Thursday, December 22, 2011

My War On Christmas

The guy across the street has done up his house and yard in what can only be called a real hillbilly Christmas motif. You got your quarter mile of lights and multiple Santas and reindeer and snowmen and angels and a manger complete with Baby Jesus and wise men (some of whom look suspiciously like Osama Bin Laden) and, who's that way in the back? Winnie the Pooh!

Did I mention the tape loop of every effing Christmas song ever recorded? Well, he has that, too. And he cranks that mother up so that everybody can share in the joy of the season. I tell you people drive by in gape mouth wonderment.

He does this every year, starting sometime around Thanksgiving. And every year Mrs. Franklin and I grit our teeth, because hey, it's Christmas! And besides, the guy has young kids, and blah, blah, blah...

And we don't want to be the neighborhood Scrooges--but Jesus Christ! Winnie the Pooh?!

Anyway, today I saw this quote on a website somewhere, "I cannot eat your prayers."

That pretty much sums it up, OK? So, if you really believe in the true meaning of Christmas, please don't buy any more inflatable Santas or another strand of lights or one more "So And So Sings The Joyous Songs of Christmas" CD.

Instead, give that money to the nearest food bank or homeless shelter.


Because it would be the Christian thing to do...

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