...Courtesy of who my good friend and I always refer to as, looking up at each other in unison when he comes up in the shuffle: "The Terrorist." The great and awesome Cat Stevens, a singer songwriter who's singing and songwriting still send chills up my spine decades later. Timeless.
Peace, like anarchy, begins at home. Get your own shit in order; number one. Mind your own business; number too. Live in peace; number three. 1, 2, 3. It's fucking easy.
God and virgin birth myths aren't enough. Obviously. The eternal tragedy of monotheistic religious myth is that they accomplish the exact opposite of their purported purpose. Even more tragically, they are so fucking good at accomplishing the exact opposite. It's baked into the cake of monotheistic myth.
But anyway...Merry Christmas Myth.
...And no, I don't care which myth you pick—I argue that people ought to put them in context, like the Santa myth: hella fun. Whether or not Cat Stevens becoming Yousuf Islam was a a religious epiphany, conversion, or a transformation...seems to me that whatever the case, his heart is in the right place.