Yes, Virginia, despite what the Media may say, there is a very real War on Christmas. It comes every year at the beginning of November, and it is one of the most culturally devastating wars we currently face. However, unlike the other cultural wars we fight (the war on drugs, the war on crime, etc.), this one does not feature a faceless villain. The villain has a face. It has a voice. It has a white beard.
The villain in the War on Christmas is Santa Claus, and I am one of the ones fighting him.
As of this writing, we are a week and a half away from Thanksgiving. But you would not know that walking into any store in America. There are Christmas trees, Christmas lights, snowflakes, Santas, reindeer, and all manner of wintry wonder. There is virtually nothing there that celebrates the most important holiday of the year: Thanksgiving.
Yes, there is a War on Christmas. But, Santa’s imperial claims over November and now October are the casus belli for such a war. We as Americans are under attack, just as we, as Americans, are to blame.
Yes, I’m bitter. It is the greatest holiday in the world, and it gets overlooked in favor of the bloated elf that gives us free stuff (yes, Santa is a Democrat). It is a chance to celebrate the very things that make our nation awesome: the original settling of the American soil, diversity of thoughts and ideas, over-indulgence of large quantities of food, and football.
The commercial appeal of Christmas is so much more enticing, however, because we spend our money on THINGS. Shiny THINGS. Appealing THINGS. The next big THINGS. We want them all for ourselves. It’s not even like this invasion is a Crusade, expanding the cause of Christianity into heathen domains. It’s all about the THINGS. All the THINGS. We have given up heritage for the shiny, and we run the risk of losing culture as a result.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not some liberal that believes the corporations are out to suck our souls dry and leave us as empty husks devoted solely to the machine (that’s education’s job*). I just oppose the conversion of what is supposed to be a time to celebrate the very beginnings of American heritage, as well as the most important thing we have on this earth – our families – into something entirely commercial, that is based entirely on oneself.
And so, every year at this time, I grab one of my rifles and I sit in the rocking chair in front of the fireplace. I have declared war on Santa before, and I know he will come after me next.