Hooray for Christmas (and a myriad of other end-of-the-year holidays that I can neither pronounce nor spell correctly)! Conservative talk radio blesses me with a daily reminder that, owing to my God-hatin,' latte drinkin,' Subaru drivin,' baby killin,' tree huggin,' hippie, liberal tendencies, I am waging a silent War Against Christmas. Or "WAC" for brevity's sake. Yes, America, I hate Christmas because I don't have a plastic, light-up Jesus on my front lawn. Ironically, I did once have a plastic, light-up He-Man sword, which did an equally good job of reminding me about the Christ child, but I really don't think that qualifies me as an anti-Christ-child warrior.

See, I dig Jesus's style. JC was the original hippie love muffin, dig? Peace? Love? Bearded? He was a cool dude, that Jesus. So what the holy fuck would he think about our WAC? Would he be pissed to see a giant Santa statue replaced by a gargantuan menorah at the mall? I doubt it. In fact the idea of Jesus at the mall in the first place, or even cast in pressure-molded translucent plastic, is borderline offensive, even to a non-Christian Jesus fan like myself.

So, what to do, what to do...

In a rich tradition dating all the way back to Jonathan Smith, I propose we meet stupidity with absurdity. I say we join the pro-Christian ranks in their war to "preserve and promote the true meaning of Christmas," which as far as I can tell means spending eleven hundred dollars at Brookstone. I say we march right down to the mall and meet these anti-Christmas warriors head-on with big signs that read:


Now that's preserving the true meaning of Christmas. Happy Hanukkah day 4! Read what smarter people have to say.

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