Monday, December 26, 2005


HItchy Taking Cranky Bastard to a Whole New Level

Bah, Humbug - The horrors of December in a one-party state. By Christopher Hitchens: "On all media and in all newspapers, endless invocations of the same repetitive theme. In all public places, from train stations to department stores, an insistent din of identical propaganda and identical music. The collectivization of gaiety and the compulsory infliction of joy. Time wasted on foolishness at one's children's schools. Vapid ecumenical messages from the president, who has more pressing things to do and who is constitutionally required to avoid any religious endorsements... No believer in the First Amendment could go that far. But there are millions of well-appointed buildings all across the United States, most of them tax-exempt and some of them receiving state subventions, where anyone can go at any time and celebrate miraculous births and pregnant virgins all day and all night if they so desire. These places are known as "churches," and they can also force passersby to look at the displays and billboards they erect and to give ear to the bells that they ring. In addition, they can count on numberless radio and TV stations to beam their stuff all through the ether. If this is not sufficient, then god damn them. God damn them everyone."

Compulsory INFLICTION of joy, just in case you missed it. Coal in a grown man's stocking anyone? I mean really. One day to be giggly and make others giggly, and he can't even take the CB hat off for one day. Actually, he did make me giggle with this, so maybe he did his part, less the gits and tall trees. I wonder what he and his wife, Blue, do to celebrate this week at the end of the year. No turkey and mistletoe, I suppose. His decorations probably consist of a sign for the door, "Carolers will be shot on sight". Naah, he's probably not to the right enough to be a member of the NRA. Maybe the sign says, "Carolers will be beaten to a bloody pulp". Blue, being a girl and all, probably bought a secret house in the Hamptons where she can put up decorations and take part in the holiday. It takes a great deal of restraint, as a woman, not to love red and green and fat Santas. Fat Santas are a chromosonal must. No exceptions. Even females of the Jewish and Hindu faiths, look at fat Santas and say, "Everyone will understand. It's cute." And females of all beliefs love the excuse for shopping. Does Blue get to warm the credit card at Nordy's in December? For a woman who I probably don't need to worry much about, I would feel for her if she had to repress the natural desire to shop, decorate, and unwrap gifts to celebrate solstice, Hanukkah, or just the end of another year. I don't see my cranky Hitchy down in the floor fighting with the tape to make sure frosty the snowman paper is fully covering a box with lovelies for his wife. To each their own, but seriously, lighten up. If you're around him next Christmas, don't bother to wrap the Johnny Walker and Marlboros.

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