Onward, Anti-Christmasian Soldiers!
(from here)
"Hello, this is Liberal Controlled Media, coming to you with a breaking report on the War on Christmas."
[Camera angle narrows in on anchorman]
"Today, Anti-Christmasian forces launched a decisive assault on the remaining pro-Christmas Arctic stronghold. Our LCM teams are on the story, and will bring you round-the-clock coverage of this breaking story. First, we go to LCM Foreign Correspondent Sarah Townsend. Sarah?"
"Thanks, Jim."
[image of firing artillery piece, crash of the gun, ejection of shell casing]
"Jim, I'm here at Fire Base Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, where Anti-Christmas forces have been launching devastating barrages for the last several hours at the Pro-Christmasians. ACF commanders believe that 100 enemy forces have been killed."
"Sarah, is that writing on one of the shells?"
"Yes, Jim, it is. It says, 'Eat this, Santa!' Despite the freezing Arctic weather, spirits are very high here, Jim. Earlier, one serviceman told me that 'We're going to fire a missile right up Blitzen's posterior.'"
"Alright Sarah. Now over to LCM's Roger Johnson. Roger?"
[flash to newsman, lying down, huddled behind snow-covered outcrop, with gunfire crackling all around. Newsman shouting over background noise.]
"Roger, I'm here with the forward elements of Operation Dead Elf, where the fighting has intensified over the last few hours, as the noose around the Claus family and the last few elven dead-enders tightens. Earlier today, I accompanied these ACF soldiers as they stormed one of the outer fortifications surrounding Santa's hideout. ACF Command sources claim that 100 Pro-Christmasians were killed in that engagement."
[Suddenly, shouting in background, and the pace of fire increases. Johnson springs up. Tracer fire whizzes past. A loud roar passes overhead as a wing of fighter bombers streaks by, followed by the dull crump of explosions. The image shakes slightly and then begins to move wildly as the cameraman begins to run.]
"Jim, we're moving out. This is Roger Johnson, reporting for LCM."
"Ok, Roger, stay safe."
"Now, for what this latest offensive means, we turn to Senior War Correspondent Alvin Holmes in our LCM studios. Al, what's the latest you've heard so far?"
"Well, Jim, ACF intelligence sources tell me that documents captured in the offensive confirm what we have suspected all along--Mall Santas are, indeed, sleeper cells of the Pro-Christmasians."
"Al, let's put this latest offensive, Operation Dead Elf, into a larger context."
"Sure, Jim."
[camera turns to Holmes]
"Two years ago, the ACF decided to move from a defensive posture to an offensive one. Said one ACF commander, 'We are fighting them up there, so we don't have to fight them down here.'
"As part of this new strategy, last year, the ACF launched Operation Reindeer Roadkill which, tragically, turned into a disaster. As you know, what was expected to be a knockout blow against the Clausians, became a booby-trapped ambush, as the unfortunate assault targeted a decoy headquarters manned only by a few very drunk elves.
"Learning from that failure, before today's assault, the ACF began Operation Grandma's Revenge several months ago, which involved the insertion of AC Special Forces elements to locate Santa Claus' secret base of operations."
"Well, Al, it appears Grandma's Revenge was successful."
[Holmes chuckles]
"Yes, Jim, it does. My sources told me earlier today that in the target area, only Santa and Mrs. Claus, along with 38 Number Two elves remain."
"So, how did the ACF manage to gain the upper hand so dramatically?"
"Well, Jim, while those elves were making wooden ponies, the ACF was building jet fighters and aircraft carriers. And at a tactical level, elves aren't very big: they have a hard time handling heavy weapons."
"Are there any concerns that rogue Pro-Christmasians might retaliate in response to today's offensive?"
"I'm told..."
[Anchorman puts hand to ear piece.]
"Sorry, Al, we're getting live footage from an ACF anti-air missile battery."
[Image of missile launched, streaks skyward and target detonates.]
"See Jim, that's the response that the Pro-Christmasians should expect if they attack the Homeland!"
"Uh, Al, we're getting unconfirmed reports that the target was a FedEx cargo plane, and not a flight of reindeer."
[Holmes looks somber.]
"Jim, while all Anti-Christmasians regret the loss of civilian lives, no price is too high in the War on Christmas."
"So, Al, when do we think the ACF troops will cease major combat operations?"
"Jim, the troops will be home by Christmas."
[anchorman pauses]
"Thanks, Al. That ends this special edition of the War on Christmas."
"And to all, a good night."
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[I posted this little pastiche about a year ago as a comment on Cuttlefish's blog. It still holds up, I think. It's my contribution to the literature of the War on Christmas.]
Laetit Triumphants
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through slush,
Till on the twinkling lights we turned our backs
And towards our distant cars began to trudge.
Men shopped asleep. Many had spent their cash
But bought on credit. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the crash
Of tired, bawling children that had dropped behind.
Nog! Nog! Quick, boys! â An ecstasy of drinking,
Draining the festive tumblers just in time;
But someone still was going out and shopping,
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime . . .
Dim, through the candy canes and colored light,
As under green chai tea, I saw him dropping.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, muttering, cursing, shopping.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the debt that we soon found him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could see, at every month, accounts
Drained dry of each last hard-earned dollar,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the mounts
Of pale riders, laboring under heavy collar,
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for designer pants,
The old Lie; Adeste fideles,
Laetit triumphants!
Bah, humbug. It's "Laeti triumphantes".
It was December 25, nearly 20 years, a brisk day. I had done some cleaning up work at our synagogue, and was waiting out front for my ride to pick me up. It was quiet out, too quiet, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse, when hark! a person came up the street, all bundled up. Not noticing my fashionably long rabbinical beard or the name of our synagogue in large letters or all the Jewish stars in our windows, he wished me a "Merry Christmas!" as he passed. I just ignored him. He kept going, and after about 20 feet, he turned around and shouted out with glee, "Merry Christmas to me too!"
Sure, buddy. I can only hope I ruined his holiday. Garrison Keillor would no doubt have approved.
@ william e emba: As an atheist gentile living in my neighborhood, my great fear is that I will be going for a walk some evening unaware that it is Passover, when a neighbor will throw open the front door and invite all passing strangers to come in, and I will just stand there, like a deer in the headlights, uncertain what to say or do.
What would be right? You have a rabbinical beard, perhaps you know. (I have only a Viking beard, which is like a rabinnical beard, but much less intellectual.) Should I walk in all uncomfortable, and announce that I can't eat bread (unleavened or otherwise) because I'm a diabetic? "I'll just have some bitter herbs, if that's okay. Hmm... Romaine? You know what's good is cress or mache." I wish I had your certainty and willingness to ruin other's holidays. At least I know I wouldn't shout out a big, "Fuck you, Jew," so I've got that going for me. Or maybe I could stand there in the street and say, "No, thank you, but I appreciate the offer!" I've never been to Egypt, so maybe that's the right thing to do.