Christmas. Let’s talk about it for a minute, shall we? Of course, you’ll be lucky if you ever read this. Once the Man gets wind of the truth about Christmas coming out, the men with their black helicopters will show up, shut down the website, and leave you mindless sheep to your aimless milling.
What’s that? I’m bitter? I don’t think so. I just happen to live in reality. Let’s just look at our celebrated Christmas traditions, shall we?
Ah, our friend in the North Pole – what a sweet, quaint tradition. Oh wait, except for the pinko Communist commune of “elves.” Let’s see, a group of simple people all dressed the same and distributing their resources to everyone equally. It all smacks of a twisted scheme to perpetuate the tenets of a dead socio-political system to the impressionable children of the world. Meanwhile, Stalin Claus – oh, sorry, I mean Santa Claus (wink, wink) – grows fatter and fatter off the labor of his working class serfs. It’s not without reason his cheeks are red.
That’s right folks, and Santa is just the beginning. Rally round the Communist flag to the strains of some of our traditional joyous Christmas music. It’ll be a “Silent Night” when your speech is oppressed by the instruments of the state, let me tell you. And when the first shock troops come goose-stepping “Home for Christmas,” you’ll be sorry you didn’t listen to me. Oh, and if you think Christmas songs don’t have some sort’ve twisted agenda, why don’t you explain the virtues of a “White Christmas” to me you bigoted bastard?
Hey, let’s have a Christmas dinner! Go ahead – support the wholesale mass murder of nature’s anti-Communists. That’s right, turkeys! Those untiring cheerleaders of capitalism – spurring on our rabid consumerism with strident cries of “gobble, gobble” (think about it) are a threat to every twisted scheme cooked up by the subversive Christmas conspiracy. So why not silence them and at the same time feed the toiling masses a soporific spread to lull them into complacent servitude?
It’s not that I’m bitter here, people, it’s just that I’m sick of seeing our Christmas hopes and dreams ground to dust under the booted heel of the afore-mentioned Mr. Claus. Christmas is a season of hope, a season of joy, a season of debt. A season of good cheer. I call upon all readers of this essay to remember that and to rise up against Santa and his minions of evil. This is your chance! Join me and take back the season – crush the symbols of the Communist conspiracy. Burn your stocking, smash your Christmas lights, throw out your tree, dump out your egg nog, kill your-
Wait. I kinda like egg nog. A little rum, a little nutmeg, mmmm. Uh, I mean – egg nog! Yet another twisted, sick, evil, subversive, frosty, creamy, silky smooth, glass of eggy goodness!
Ah screw it. Merry Christmas.