Such is the deal with central Cuba's Parrandas, a vaguely carnival-like holiday tradition where competing districts parade their elaborately constructed floats in what inevitably evolves into a friendly, joyful street party with fireworks and shit. They've been doing this since 18th century, and, over time, the inevitable competitive nature of the event has blown the floats from simple sticks-and-stones affairs to, well, this:

Wikipedia

That picture is from freaking 1940, by the way. Here's what the floats look like these days:

YouTube

Holy shit, look at that thing! That's what we should be doing with all this Christmas decoration bullshit. It's a competitive sport no matter what we do, so we might as well channel that energy in a positive way. Just turn it into an actual competition by joining forces with our neighbors -- yep, even that asshole Steve, you know he has the good orbital sander -- in a friendly joint effort to design-whoop the butts of those jerkoffs in the next borough, all followed up by a great party. Isn't that what Christmas is all about, really?

As the police departments of many major cities are all too keen to point out, I'm a big proponent of fire as part of any and all holiday celebrations. Who isn't? Especially during the cold months, there's no one out there who doesn't enjoy a great big fire built specifically to celebrate the season, as well as handily mask your usual drunken hobo antics by rendering your unruly stature into a cool silhouette against its brightness. Everyone enjoys a bonfire. Unless you're a witch, I suppose. Are you a witch? And if you are, why are you celebrating Christmas in the first place? Is it like some hipster thing among witches? A hipster witch? That's awful. Get out.

Piecework Productions/Photographer's Choice/Getty Images
"I mean, I know these things killed a bunch of my ancestors, but I enjoy them ironically."

Louisiana, on the other hand, doesn't mess around when it comes to Christmas and fire. As befits the state most likely to be haunted by Nicolas Cage's vengeful ghost, they approach the whole bonfire thing with an admirable amount of ridiculous overkill: On Christmas Eve, they light a whole damn river bank on fire. The bonfires on the levee are huge, 30-plus-foot pyramid log structures that the locals build all along the Great River Road between New Orleans and Baton Rouge, only to burn them all down simultaneously in a glorious mess of flaming Mississippi madness.

YouTube.com
Yes, of course, there are fireworks.

The tradition goes back for generations and may have originally had something to do with honoring harvests. These days, this fire road is built to act as a guiding light to Pere Noel, the Cajun Santa who must be a pretty hardcore entity for flying toward the man-made hell in order to throw presents at people. Some of the more ambitious builders embrace their pyromaniac tendencies by building their giant bonfires in the shape of houses and even river ships.

Or, optimistic allusions that the Saints could ever be on fire.

Oh, and did I mention there are more than 100 of these things?

So, yeah. This year, as you're panic-wrapping your improvised last-minute gifts, remember that a bunch of Cajuns spend the night gleefully roaring fire at the sky with triple-digit amounts of insanely huge log fires. After witnessing that, the actual Christmas must seem like a bland afterthought.

Tour Louisiana
"Tomorrow will burn. The world will burn."

If you want to go with just those basics, I guess you could just make the costume and spend your holidays running about town like the Grim Reaper of horses, neighing threats at anyone who doesn't buy you a shot. However, be warned that this particular approach carries far more risk of someone using a Taser on your dick. Or, uh, so my friend tells me.

With that in mind, there's one final part to the tradition that can make things even more awesome: Instead of making the alcohol-acquiring part of the equation just "give me whiskey or, so help me, I'll headbutt you," Mari Lwyd and its entourage are usually required to negotiate their liquor with a back-and-forth song ritual known as pwngco. The Skull Horse Posse turns up at someone's door by sing-requesting admittance, and then the owner of the house counters with several excuse songs. These are all countered one by one by the Mari Lwyd until no songs are left. Basically, this means some Welsh regions celebrate Christmas with a freestyle battle between a large horse-monster and a bemused guy whose larder and drinks cabinet is about to be empty. But, I guess your Christmas tree and "Jingle Bells" are pretty all right, too.

What's that? You don't want to run a marathon during the holidays, especially in a cheap-ass Santa costume that smells like old farts? Of course you don't, and, in fact, that's not the point. This, friend, is strictly a spectator sport. Grab a couple of friends and/or family members, some folding chairs, and watch as a flock of insane people flails through the winter wonderland as you sip from your flask and reflect on life, the universe, and how lucky you are not to be stupid enough to run a fucking Santa marathon. And if you want to ramp up your participation? We can absolutely do that. In fact, there's a very specific version of this holiday event, custom-made for our particular level of athleticism:

The Santa pub crawl.

What, did you think I would expect anyone to do something like this sober? Hahahahaha! What do you think I am, some kind of person with common sense? No, we'll go about this the most awesome way available to someone stumbling about in a Santa horde, which is "with all the booze available to us." People realized pretty early on that running about, dressed like Santa, is a fool's errand at best and decided to make things a little more festive (and give themselves an excuse to stumble about in a red carnival costume) by getting roaring drunk in the process. As is the case with Santa marathons, there are quite a few of these things around the globe, usually attached to some sort of charity. Arguably the most famous of these events comes from Australia, which unsurprisingly adds an extra element to the experience. This is a country that celebrates Christmas during its absolute hottest season, meaning that they voluntarily add stumbling around blinding drunk while wearing an unwieldy red winterlord costume to their normal holiday-time antics of dodging poisonous fauna in unforgiving, convict-cracking heat.

During this period -- and even without counting all the traditions of different ethnic groups and assorted private Christmas parties, gatherings, and antics -- there are nine important holidays on a Thanksgiving/Christmas Day level, all with their own particular delicacies, feasts, and celebrations. Christmas Day itself is a fairly pious family affair that involves presents of cash money (while on Ninos Inocentes, it's historically OK to Punk'd people to borrow money and never pay it back). Then, there are various feasts, festivals, and light shows that occupy the majority of the calendar until well into January, or even early February.

They're also big on huge-ass lanterns.

Does this sound like your very own personal hell so far? Of course it does. No one wants literally months of Christmas, especially as the time frame would eat into much more fun holidays such as Halloween. But, I'm not suggesting we should adapt everything from the Philippines' Christmas ways. Just the time frame (and maybe the money-for-gifts thing, because I hate, hate, hate Christmas shopping). We already have everything else we need.

Think about it: As I've listed now and before, almost every Christmas tradition that has somehow managed to elude Western mainstream culture is far closer to a really neat way to blend Halloween and New Year's Eve together with creepy and badass traditions than the plastic, tinsel-y commercial Christmas we know and begrudgingly indulge in. Forget caroling and having to fight 350-pound housewives for the last piece of garbage hit toy your niece can't live without in the store. Let's bring on the fire, the pub crawls, the parties, the Krampus and Nuuttipukki antics, the vodka-fueled Russian Christmas, and that giant Swedish straw goat they keep burning down. Let's spread that shit all over the Philippines-style Christmas calendar and have a holiday to remember.

As a downside, the world could probably only take two or three of these months-long super-Christmases before everything would devolve into Mad Max-style anarchy. But, really, isn't that the aftermath of pretty much every holiday time?

This Wednesday, Cracked editors will discuss post-apocalyptic movie worlds with scientists and special guests during a LIVE PODCAST. The best part? You're all invited! The show is at UCB on Dec. 9 at 7 p.m., and tickets are on sale now!

If you have to spend thousands of dollars on Christmas, we would much rather use it on a crazy floating light show then on a sticky overpriced Christmas tree. Here are more traditions we could do without in 8 Dumb Holiday Traditions That Need To Be Retired, and see how Iceland takes Christmas caroling to a whole new creepy level in 5 Creepy Christmas Traditions From Around The World.

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