Today I had to hold myself back from taking a pitchfork to all the inflatable Jesus snowmen, women, reindeer, assorted elves, and things seen only in the deepest darkest lagoons...or the front lawn with lights hanging off them.
But I held back because they are after all, the front line of the War On Christmas. Everyone knows it's the ten foot tall inflatable reindeer that puts the Christ in Christmas. Who can argue with that or the humping wire mesh reindeer that everyone thinks they thought of first. Hey guys, you weren't first with that one. Jesus was. Jesus had the first humping reindeer in HIS yard. I dare you to prove otherwise. I double dare you!
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Friday, December 17, 2010
War On Christmas: Day 5
Five days into the war and it's a wasteland out there of cheap crap from China blessed by Santa Jesus and the holy spirit of Wall-Martus. The only path to salvation is through a minefield of screaming brats, stressed out and broke parents, jaded gift buyers, and the poor who can only stare wistfully in the toy store window as they lust in their heart for Saint i-Crap.
So quick! Put on those robes, grab your ass and head on down to Bethlehem Motors where Jesus Wagons are going for astonishing year end prices. Don't be stuck hauling your ass through the desert heat when you can drive in air-conditioned comfort in your 20ll Jesus Shaggin' Wagon.
Those mangers fill up fast this time of year so don't get left out in the cold. Come on down to We FleeceEm Mobile Sheep/girlfriends built especially for those in need of something to confess so you can be absolved of any personal responsibility or responsibility for your actions. This week only you can kill someone and get immediately absolved and forgiven. But act now because this deal is only good for the Christmas season when it's all about Jesus being the reason for the season.
We knew it had to be someone's fault, didn't we? No one could come up with this pile of crap on their own. Jesus is the reason for the season. Don't forget now...
So quick! Put on those robes, grab your ass and head on down to Bethlehem Motors where Jesus Wagons are going for astonishing year end prices. Don't be stuck hauling your ass through the desert heat when you can drive in air-conditioned comfort in your 20ll Jesus Shaggin' Wagon.
Those mangers fill up fast this time of year so don't get left out in the cold. Come on down to We FleeceEm Mobile Sheep/girlfriends built especially for those in need of something to confess so you can be absolved of any personal responsibility or responsibility for your actions. This week only you can kill someone and get immediately absolved and forgiven. But act now because this deal is only good for the Christmas season when it's all about Jesus being the reason for the season.
We knew it had to be someone's fault, didn't we? No one could come up with this pile of crap on their own. Jesus is the reason for the season. Don't forget now...
Thursday, December 16, 2010
War On Christmas: Day Four
In any war it is important to know what kind of people make up the opposing army. After all, you wouldn't want to be stuck playing Chess with an idiot. But that's basically the position morons who insist there's a War On Christmas put sane people in--a Chess game played against idiots.
Think about it. This time of year (actually it started sometime between the pumpkins decaying on the porch and the racoons eating the last scrap of turkey carcass from the garbage) you can't drive down the street without being blinded by war victims. Every house is lit up so insanely, the war can be seen from space! Inside, the suffering masses huddle around dead trees dressed up and waiting for Santa to tell them it's safe to come out.
While the homeless huddle in doorways of condemned buildings, the war effort goes to building tight little mangers for plastic babies dressed as Muslims. And like most pet-loving people, they make space for their asses and other family members in the manger.
And of course by now most moderately sane people have several times a day imagined the feeling of piercing their own ear drums with knitting needles as something not as bad as chipmunks singing Silent Night over and over again in the market.
It's only day four but I'm ready to club the next raging lunatic that lunges at me wild-eyed and feral as they screech "Merry Christmas" at me as if it were the most vile insult on the planet. Somehow, in spite of the eternally damning hell of continual Christmas music sung, muttered, whined, yelled, and turned into electronic mayhem, and in spite of so much red and green and tinsel all draped over everything as if the Jolly Green Giant was being gored and displayed like a holiday roast, in spite of the continual warfare of commercials bombarding us everywhere we turn, these crazed Christian asylum escapees see me and others as enemies that can only be subdued by screeching Merry Christmas at us.
I can only fight them with their own words because that way they hang themselves and I can sit back and eat kittens wrapped in tissue paper with bows for breakfast.
Think about it. This time of year (actually it started sometime between the pumpkins decaying on the porch and the racoons eating the last scrap of turkey carcass from the garbage) you can't drive down the street without being blinded by war victims. Every house is lit up so insanely, the war can be seen from space! Inside, the suffering masses huddle around dead trees dressed up and waiting for Santa to tell them it's safe to come out.
While the homeless huddle in doorways of condemned buildings, the war effort goes to building tight little mangers for plastic babies dressed as Muslims. And like most pet-loving people, they make space for their asses and other family members in the manger.
And of course by now most moderately sane people have several times a day imagined the feeling of piercing their own ear drums with knitting needles as something not as bad as chipmunks singing Silent Night over and over again in the market.
It's only day four but I'm ready to club the next raging lunatic that lunges at me wild-eyed and feral as they screech "Merry Christmas" at me as if it were the most vile insult on the planet. Somehow, in spite of the eternally damning hell of continual Christmas music sung, muttered, whined, yelled, and turned into electronic mayhem, and in spite of so much red and green and tinsel all draped over everything as if the Jolly Green Giant was being gored and displayed like a holiday roast, in spite of the continual warfare of commercials bombarding us everywhere we turn, these crazed Christian asylum escapees see me and others as enemies that can only be subdued by screeching Merry Christmas at us.
I can only fight them with their own words because that way they hang themselves and I can sit back and eat kittens wrapped in tissue paper with bows for breakfast.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
War On Christmas: Day Three
While driving around the internet tube thing I came across this reworked version of "Twas the night before Christmas," and just had to share it. The author's name is TOM DEGAN
‘Twas the night before Christmas
and all ’round the place
Them Liberals were plannin’
to attack us with mace
The Children were nestled
all snug in their beds
While visions of Rand Paul
stomped on their heads
And mama with her Demerol
and I with my booze
Had just settled down
for a long winter’s snooze
When out on the rooftop
there rose such a ruckus
I sprang from my bed to see
WHAT THE F**K IS GOING ON UP THERE???
A posse of Liberals
all armed to the teeth
Were doing rude things
to our poor Christmas wreath
They spoke not a word
but were vile and we shook
As they ripped out the pages
of Ms. Palin’s book
And I heard them exclaim
as they tore up the streets
“Nasty Kringle to all!
Next year leave us some sweets!”
TOM DEGAN
Today's video find comes from The Godless Liberal Social Society
‘Twas the night before Christmas
and all ’round the place
Them Liberals were plannin’
to attack us with mace
The Children were nestled
all snug in their beds
While visions of Rand Paul
stomped on their heads
And mama with her Demerol
and I with my booze
Had just settled down
for a long winter’s snooze
When out on the rooftop
there rose such a ruckus
I sprang from my bed to see
WHAT THE F**K IS GOING ON UP THERE???
A posse of Liberals
all armed to the teeth
Were doing rude things
to our poor Christmas wreath
They spoke not a word
but were vile and we shook
As they ripped out the pages
of Ms. Palin’s book
And I heard them exclaim
as they tore up the streets
“Nasty Kringle to all!
Next year leave us some sweets!”
TOM DEGAN
Today's video find comes from The Godless Liberal Social Society
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
War on Christmas: Day Two
Nothing demonstrates the spirit of xmas so completely as Gollum. You can just see him screeching as he runs over old people at Squall-Mart so he can be first in line to buy something he doesn't need or want but was built up by the media, the music--the horrible horrible music that just won't stop, and his own insatiable inner greed to want want want, even if he has to trample on everyone to get to "IT."
Monday, December 13, 2010
War on Christmas: Day One
Today begins day one of the War On Christmas. You haven't heard of it? I'm not surprised as it's drowned out by all the Christian Christmas Crap
music blaring out of every speaker in every store. It's really difficult to even know there's a war on Christmas when the stores start getting ready for it the day after Thanksgiving by hanging religious cult symbols all over the place. I perfectly understand how you could even miss there's a war on Christmas when everywhere you look, everything you hear, every place you go is an overload of Christmas crap. But it's a war, I tell you, a real war. Just turn on the TV (that ancient thing gathering dust in the corner) and watch some of the maniacal talking heads on one of those funny shows that call themselves "News." I guess the real meaning of News is "not even worth seeing," but really you should watch just for a few minutes and see there really is a war on Christmas. All those hysterical shrieking boring, ugly old white people couldn't possibly be wrong now, could they?
So, I'll do my part to be their loyal opposition because without an opposing side, there can be no war. I will be that side and I will give to you twelve days of my own personal war on Christmas.
music blaring out of every speaker in every store. It's really difficult to even know there's a war on Christmas when the stores start getting ready for it the day after Thanksgiving by hanging religious cult symbols all over the place. I perfectly understand how you could even miss there's a war on Christmas when everywhere you look, everything you hear, every place you go is an overload of Christmas crap. But it's a war, I tell you, a real war. Just turn on the TV (that ancient thing gathering dust in the corner) and watch some of the maniacal talking heads on one of those funny shows that call themselves "News." I guess the real meaning of News is "not even worth seeing," but really you should watch just for a few minutes and see there really is a war on Christmas. All those hysterical shrieking boring, ugly old white people couldn't possibly be wrong now, could they?
So, I'll do my part to be their loyal opposition because without an opposing side, there can be no war. I will be that side and I will give to you twelve days of my own personal war on Christmas.
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