Henry Rollins: The Column! The War on Christmas Starts With Me
[Look for your weekly fix from the one and only Henry Rollins right here on West Coast Sound every Thursday, and come back tomorrow for the awesomely annotated playlist for his Saturday KCRW broadcast.]
I am a veteran of the War on Christmas. I am just emerging from a battlefield strewn with dead trees and torn shreds of brightly colored wrapping paper.
It's an annual conflict. Atheist haters and readers of Richard Dawkins come out of the woodwork to attack the sacred holiday and its holy birthday boy with everything they've got: cynicism, satire, biting wit, parody, and Saturday Night Live skits.
Thankfully, Fox News hosts like Bill O'Reilly stand on the wall and make sure that Christians -- this oppressed, under-funded and constantly maligned measly 78% slice of America -- isn't getting put upon too injuriously by the other 22% who in reality, can't be bothered to do more on the 25th day of December than order pizza and play Call of Duty for twelve hours at a time.
The true believers, to the delight of retailers everywhere, hurl their cars into parking garages and deploy into places like The Grove and the Beverly Center, push their credit cards beyond their limits and buy items made by godless ChiCom scum. They rendition them back to their compounds where they are detained until the biggest, bestest birthday of them all.
A few days before the JC Shock & Awe light show I was in Seattle, overwhelmed by the amount of people dressed as Santa Claus. It was a santastic thing to behold. The streets were teeming with people dressed as this celebrated obese socialist, who I guess utilizes one of the many intelligence agencies started under the small government Bush administration, to find out whether you have been naughty or nice.
Standing out in this explosion of red was a man whose Santa suit was black and white. The anti-Santa! No doubt, one of those know-it-all ACLU loving threats to national security who hates freedom and thinks Toby Keith makes comedy albums. "This big dog will fight / When you rattle his cage." Really? The dog is in a cage. It can't fight because it's in a... Anyway, it seemed to me that there was no war on Christmas.
Days later, flying out of the SeaTac Airport down to Los Angeles, my privacy was assaulted by women wearing Santa caps, walking with someone in a huge snowman outfit. They were approaching people and greeting them as they busily engaged their small communication devices. At 0707 hrs., not having slept the night before, it was a little much.