Seasonal Flagellation

Look, I've got no control over your front porch -- but what is it with the cutesy "seasonal" flags? Lately, they've taken down the green-leaves-and-sunshine ones and run up banners with patterns of orange/yellow leaves; the super-seasonal still have some green in theirs.

Hello? You're in Broadripple, one of the most wooded neighborhoods of one of the most tree-filled big cities in the entire Yew-natted States. The real leaves on the real trees are a-changin' and doing so with a delightfully stochastic lack of pattern, each tree in variations of the shades and hues characteristic of its kind and yet no two precisely alike. Did you think passers-by needed a reminder of what season it is? Did you need one yourself?

Possibly it's a spin-off from the mindset that can't quite believe anything is real until they've seen it on television (and the reverse, too, which is not so good considering most of what the medium delivers is deliberately or mistakenly fictional). Maybe they wanna bless the reality by posting proto-hieroglyphic recognition of it, or tap into the Mighty Morphin' Gaia Magic through sewing-room semiotics. Whatever it is, it's stupid. Take an extra half-hour and do some seasonal decoration of your porch if ya want some clean, modern version of dancin' nekkid in the woods at the equinoxes and solsticii, f'pity's sake -- or just find ya good spot and kick it old school. For that matter, there's scarcely a religious tradition lacking in seasonal holidays, rites and/or rituals; whyn't y'pick one and go interact with other people?

Or you could just cheap out and hang some trendy, goofy banner on the flagpole where y'oughta be flying some version of your polity's flag. Sheesh.

(Which reminds me, didja know you can get subdued-color Gadsden flag patches? With Velcro backing so you can change sides in a hurry, even).