Fighting The War On Christmas
I admit. I have a Christmas tree. However, neither my father nor I are Christians--he says that Christmas stopped being Christian a long time ago and started being simply American. When I heard about this war I immediately took notice, because I love Christmas...I love it very much. It is, quite possibly, the greatest day out of every year--it certainly has Thanksgiving beaten; even though both involve the coming together of the family, one involves several hours of presents, which overrides the former.
But I was sucked into this war, believe it or not, and had, from watching my father's favorite show, The O'Reilly Factor, formed opinions that whoever was calling Christmas trees Holiday trees and taking Christmas from public stores was a menace to society. Some stores even refuse to say Merry Christmas, and in it's place say such terrible things as, "Happy Holidays," or some other cull. Mr. O'Reilly even called a boycott to all stores that do not say bluntly "Merry Christmas" and even had a poll on his website on whether I would shop at those stores that didn't say it all with the like-Christmas Spirit.
Well today, Your Humble Narrator went to our local restaurant to each lunch with my parents, same as I do everyday. It's a very low budget sort of eatery, with enough sitting for maybe fifty people, where the refrigerator sits in the same place as the ash-trays. We love it there, and think the owners and staff are quite possibly the nicest people in the world.
But today I made an observation. As we walked into the store, I noticed sprayed neatly in red and green paint on the front window was:
HAPPY HOLIDAYS!
And so I thought to myself, "How dare these little people do such a thing? If they don't give us, in writing, the happy old Merry Christmas, they must be participating in that little war I've been listening to all through the night-time."
And so it was. My other self walked right out and sprouted like-wings that soared into the sky screaming peace and freedom and all the sort. Me, on the other hand, had the sense and timely knowledge to know the truth. There's a war on Christmas just as much as there's a war between the clouds and the sky. If you get your tighty-whities in all of a bunch for the single reason of not seeing your favorite words posted in the air with big-old letters even God Himself could see, then you've been in the need of otherly help for some time now and have long forgotten the real-like meaning of Christmas.
The point of it all is--and this I've noticed with a listening ear--that Mr. O'Reilly and all the sorts of his likeness who need to fill their hours on the televisionary simply need to fill their hours on the televisionary! There is no othe reason for it than that...to fill those time slots in the order of making those dollars and pesos and Euros of the sort.
Think of it this way: the time he alone has spent ranting in the "name of the Christmas spirit" for a few minutes here and there for the past two months has equaled over an hour of your time.
An Hour?!
Mr. Irishman owns a business and uses it to make his money and earn his name...which is an honorable way of living, Mr. Bill. And so, here I watch again. He get's much right, and yet he makes much wrong for the sake of filling up his hourly showcase with a little twirl or a dance.
Well, Billy, the spinnnnn (insert dramatic pause and creepy smile) stops here.
