It's day 8 of the War on Xmas and from the looks of things the mall rats are worshipping at the altar of human consumerism. I can report they're fat little suckers as they swarm through food courts and suck up grease and corn syrup globules in astonishing quantities. They're definitely winning on this front while the rest of us are held prisoner to vegetables and sensible shoes.
I do understand the sacredness of it all as there is nothing more Christ-like than a crazed shopper knocking over frail old ladies and small children in their hurry to get to the bargain counter where life-sized arks with dinosaurs are going fast.
There's nothing more holy than elbowing grandpa out of the way so the feeding frenzy winner can walk away with a pair of boxers that ask the ultimate meaning of life question: "Who's your baby daddy?"
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