When you come right down to the bottom of the chafing dish, Thanksgiving is a holiday of great ambivalence. A day allegedly dedicated to thanking the great Whoever that enough white people survived the winter in Plymouth to kick off 300-odd years of continent-wide genocide. A day dedicated to celebrating the simple gifts that the great Whoever bestowed upon this land, yet one that we mark by going crazy over cheap, Chinese-slave-labor produced crap at 12:01 a.m. the very next morning. Also, too: the Detroit Lions. Sometimes, America is a very tough room.
Late to the Party
But as ever Mr. Pierce had a pithy and brilliant denouement of Thanksgiving: