…and God Bless You ANYWAY

Since it’s been a while, and since I’ve been receiving complaints about the conspicuous lack of new posts on my diary, I thought I’d take a break from arming my outdoor Nativity scene (I’ve just replaced the second Wise Man’s frankincense with a hand grenade) to do a little storytelling.

This weekend, I witnessed the unthinkable. Something so reprehensible, so appalling, that my character shall remain forever sullied by its message.

This weekend, I witnessed…an honest to God Christmas play: “A Christmas Carol,” as presented by a public high school drama club.


Aspiring pundit and incendiary columnist that I am, I went in to this experience with more than just visions of sugarplums dancing in my head. Not surprising, considering the amount of ideological word vomit flowing from such glowing havens of democracy as Olympia, Washington, as of late. Moreover, I have been given visions into our glorious future (should our current trend of stomping all over the Bill of Rights continue), courtesy of our friends across the pond. Here’s a tidbit:



Coming from a country that pays its government employees to inspect private garbage bins for proper dimensions and labeling, this isn’t surprising, I know, but it does offer quite a lot of insight into what happens when an overarching doctrine of political correctness is unleashed on an entire country of sheeple. Anyway, enough link dumping. Back to the thespians.

As I walked into the auditorium, I kept an eagle eye out for atheists and religious extremists, just so I’d know which way to duck the first time the cast spewed forth such incendiary and discriminatory dialogue as “Merry Christmas!” and “God bless us, everyone!” I counted at least three headscarves in the audience, a handful of Jews, and a compulsory gaggle of WASPs (“Caucasian Americans” sounds pretentious.) Standard fare.  I took my seat, and set out to examine the program: the script seemed close enough to the classic (the miser, the ghosts, the impoverished orphans,) so I took off my “indignant Republican” hat and prepared to enjoy a somewhat-sterilized version of my favorite secular Christmas story. What I saw over the next two hours amounts to one of the greatest blessings of my life.

I didn’t think that, in this day and age of completely sterile, nonoffensive feel-good garbage, a public high school would even risk mentioning putting on a play so full of genuine Christlike sentiment. A group of about 50 high schoolers scooped me up out of the hateful mire of the holiday season and gave me an incredible gift: a pure, honest, unedited and uncut version of the greatest Christmas story not directly related to the birth of Christ. Even more COMPLETELY SHOCKING and/or TOTALLY UNBELIEVABLE was the fact that nobody seemed offended by this atrocious display of love and charity. There were no protests or expressions of atheist outrage. No one threw their shoes, and when Tiny Tim sat upon Scrooge’s shoulder and proudly proclaimed, “God bless us, everyone!” no one burst into flames.

In fact, a few people burst into tears.

It kind of made me wish the peace mongering, equality-loving atheists of the Pacific Northwest had been there to see it, even though it would have undoubtedly caused their minds to be closed and their hearts to be hardened. Tragic. ::simper::

It’s a little late in the game to lay out the legal principles surrounding the War on Christmas (already done splendidly by a certain Mr. DeVine), or to condemn the idiots who get their jollies from exploiting the Christian high holidays. Personally, I couldn’t care less who these people are or why they’re so incredibly angry. I am a Christian. I celebrate Christmas as the birth of Christ. But you know what? One of my best friends is Jewish, and I most definitely helped her celebrate Hanukkah last year—not because I was looking to pick apart her religious practices, or to discount my own faith, but because she is my family and I love her. Celebrate Kwanzaa? You go ahead and do your thing! Personally, I don’t care if the atheists ring in the Winter Solstice by building a Harry Potter shrine and howling at the moon—their poor attempts at “making a statement” are nothing but chum for the media sharks. We all know what they’re trying to do in this country, and what that sign in the capitol building was. It wasn’t an expression of faith in the Snow Queen or Most Holy Frosty Potentate or whatever it is that serves as a tangible representative of the Winter Solstice. Letting loose that kind of animosity is NOT “just like” having a Nativity scene or menorah or Christmas tree or Festivus pole (for the rest of you) or whatever else people are now petitioning to display in public. It is not to be legitimized by debate, scholarly or otherwise, over its veracity.

But you knew that already.

Before I get back to testing the trip lines I’ve installed to protect the integrity of my outdoor Christmas tree (not “outdoor Hanukkah bush” or “outdoor Kwanzaa shrub”), I’d like to encourage everyone to closely guard the true spirit of the holiday season. There’s a reason why people have designated December as open season on religion in America, and this Reason is what gives me the courage to stand up to those, friend and foe, who find it their mission in life to hold something as innocent as the message found in “A Christmas Carol” in the highest level of contempt. As for me, I plan on living the last 9 or so days of Christmas in complete disregard for our lily white standards of political correctness. I won’t be out tipping over menorahs or stomping on Kwanzaa decorations, but I won’t condone the promotion of one viewpoint by way of the trampling of another.

And I certainly will not tolerate anyone laying a finger on my lawn decorations.