Wingnut Christmas

Here it is, the holiday season. The time of year when 'Peace on Earth' and Good Will toward men' rule the day. Or so it should.

At least that's what the Men in Robes taught me long ago in Catholic school.

The voices of change and accountability won the day. The long nightmare is coming to an end but not before the Agents of Darkness take a few, desperate long shots our way in fleeting hopes that we will falter before we begin our ethical cleansing. To quote a famous Vice President - they are in their 'death throes'.

Souless pundits on Faux News and hate-talk radio go ballistic on cue; mysterious, double top secret, timely terror alerts spring forth with new abandon; chest-thumping blathering from the village idiot we elected president - yes, it must be a Wingnut Christmas.

"Santa Miller (Claus is too foreign-sounding) comes down the chimney with guns blazing. You never know if the homeowner is armed and lying in wait. He fills his sack full of toys and goodies he finds around the house. After relieving himself in the fishtank, he breaks a great wind that carries him back up the chimney then off to the next house. Good boys and girls are in their rooms dreaming of skeet shooting migrant workers, or watching the last boat leave shore taking the last group of black people back to Africa. Visions of sugar futures and oil company stocks dance in their heads."

Evenings are spent decorating the tree with gilded nooses and white-hooded angels with flashing light crosses. After decking the tree, our wingnut brood sit before the television to watch lively Christmas specials by Dennis Prager, the Promise Twins: James Dobson and Chuck Colson, and of course the Christian Coalition. No liberal voices here, no sir. Only real god-fearing, stuck-in-the-Dark-Ages, fire and brimstone brand of fear and bigotry for these people.

One Wingnut

Two Wingnuts

A Whole Bag of Wingnuts get punk'd on the radio

"But Jesus Christ wasn't a Christian"


It's going to get a lot worse before it gets any better. In the narrow, finite world of the Wingnut there are no rules, no loyalty, no honor

- only the hollow victory of consumption and greed.

take a break this holiday to kiss your dog, pet the cat and tell a good joke to your fish. At least they'll appreciate it.


So Mote it Be...

David A.