« They Can Only Make Trouble At This Point | Main | I Wanted to Be the Frist to Tell You »
November 29, 2006
No More Frênch Fries - They're Christmas Fries
You want Christmas? You got it. This season, I'm dropping the "happy holidays" and "season's greetings" of years gone by. I've seen the error of my ways. And to make up for all those years of liberal elitist atheist communist homomexican inclusiveness, I'm pledging to incorporate the word "Christmas" in as many contexts as possible. I'll make George Bailey look like a mute.
I'm starting early, too. Thanksgiving isn't here yet, but Christmas is. I started early, too. Christmas came well before Thanksgiving this year. Merry Christmas! Don't shop anywhere that doesn't use the word "Christmas" in their displays. Don't buy collections of music that aren't Christmas music collections.
I don't know how I got by for so long without seeing that the word "Christmas" is a sacred cornerstone of our late-year activities. I had somehow thought for years that Christmas was a religious celebration held in some of our more popular places of worship, and, if anything more, was a time when families and friends gathered and celebrated their kinship with kind, simple gifts.
Boy, was I ever wrong. Now I see, as though Rudolf himself has lighted my way. What is wanton gluttony if it's not labeled "Christmas dinner?" How can we responsibly be fiscally irresponsible unless we shop-til-we-drop fully shrouded in the spirit of Christmas? No mere "Winter" or "Holiday" or unholy combinations or variations thereof will do. The word "Christmas" is as sacred to Christmas as the Easter Bunny is to Easter.
Even other holidays will sparkle like electric wicker reindeer when I bestow honor and authenticity upon them by using the word Christmas. We're having Christmas Chanukah, Christmas Kwanzaa, and Christmas Solstice.
When I'm cursing Brainerd Road traffic in front of the Corker Memorial Wal-Mart, I'm going to pepper(mint) my oaths with the word. When I'm tripping people at the mall so I can get ahead of them in line, I'll be wishing them a Merry Christmas on their way down. When I'm drunk, I'll be Christmas-drunk.
Let's have an all-out war on the word "Holiday." Never mind that its connotation very much includes December the 25th. If you're not saying "Christmas," it ain't Christmas. Like Ricky Smith's mother in Better Off Dead, I'm reaching out, squeezing your face, in an effort to cause you to form the word.
Say it with me.
[This Christmas gift to you appears in the November 29, 2006 Pulse.]
Christmas , Pulsations | By joe lance | 07:22 AM