During the last couple of months, certain people were starting to think we were on the verge of some sort of weird cultural Armageddon.

Concepts and cutting rhetoric crashed into each other like thundering herds of lemmings duking it out just to see who got to take the first madcap header off the highest dogmatic platform, much to the amusement of cooler thinkers who opted to take a more grounded path.

Yeah, there was an election but that pot will probably simmer for years with philosophical shots being fired from both sides while trolls interject blather from their “safe places” fueled by pitchers of power drinks served with side a of syrup soaked Twinkies.

So, let’s set aside all of that kerfuffle for now and discuss some really exasperating circumstances that started surfacing weeks before Halloween: the growing inundation of Christmas ads.

Television commercials commenced caterwauling about Black Friday specials before November could tip-toe around the backside of October and onto our day calendars.

Awe, come on now!

My buddies Turk and Willy haven’t even reached the apogee of their annual dust up trying to decide if their communal Thanksgiving turkey will be basted or deep fried.

They could care less about the fact that Wal Mart is hawking a drivable pumpkin carriage for only around $380.00.

They consider it as irrelevant information rather than a good idea for a niece who would more than likely end up using the box it came in as a doll house and the carriage as a planter when its first wheel falls off.

Meanwhile, their girlfriends are being deluged by demented elves infesting the internet pitching smoked nuts as gourmet Christmas gifts while they search for side dishes that won’t clog the artery of a water buffalo despite the fact that their guys insist they are mortally allergic to anything vaguely related to vegetable matter.

Aw, come on now.

October is becoming a swamp of $19.99 specials for cheap laser lights that make room walls resemble an ocean of floating green blow flies and/or draping tree configurations that come across as multiple strings of glowing ping pong balls stuck along something that resembles elongated fly strips.

It’s bad enough that November’s advent is accompanied by a tsunami of questionable “best buy” discounts prior to the arrival of the infamous Black Friday where hordes of bargain hunters descend on businesses like it’s free pizza day at Dominos.

Would it be too much for these commercial outfits to give the Thanksgiving celebration a bit of break?

Nope, although there are finally a few companies allowing their employees family time during the buying blitzkrieg.

After this last election families and friends should be focused on coming together rather than early shopping for lumps of coal for their opposition siblings or plotting to make the losers sit on newly purchased preschool stools at the feast’s kiddie table.

Add the fact that, beside the cacophony of corporate sales pitches, we are constantly exposed to tired and dusty commercials from Anchorage outfits featuring some obnoxious and repetitive skits with a doofus in a pink tutu trying sell eye glasses or a “Shop Buck Naked” car commercial with a soundtrack that makes sharp fingernails pulled across a blackboard sound like a classic symphony.

By the time they throw in a woman dressed as an irritable bowel syndrome and a Pepto-Bismol advocate band singer waving a tambourine at his backside to dissipate gas, you begin to wonder what type of mind comes up with that sort of drivel without first being nailed by a rabid fruit bat.

Unfortunately, the list of inane offerings will now begin their crescendo with toy commercials riding the crest of efforts aimed at getting the little ones to pester their parents until they declare a grown-up “time out” in an old laundry hamper after shredding the credit cards.

Yes, it will probably be difficult to ignore sale pitches blasting from the airways featuring screeching banshees who sound like they inadvertently sat on the frozen pointy cap of a garden gnome but it can be done.

The rule around here is that, on Thanksgiving Day, the only thing guests can bring through our front door is great food, muted cell phones and a super sense of humor.

These simple rules have worked for years although, admittedly, there is always some tension when the games begin because it’s tough to wait for actual football to breakout between breaks in the commercials.

Finally, Jane and I wish all of you a peaceful and bountiful Thanksgiving but please don’t forget to show some empathy for those failed political soothsayers and deflated pompous pundits who will be dining on crow.

They should have looked before they leapt.

Nick can be reached at ncvarney@gmail.com.