One more about the holiday wars

We put up our Christmas tree yesterday. It doesn’t have much to do with my faith, or more specifically, my lack thereof — it’s been a few years since Sunday School, but I don’t recall that Jesus had much to say about the relative merits of Douglas Firs vs. Scotch Pines. But it’s still an important ritual, providing a sense of continuity to the scattered threads of my life.

And you know what? I don’t want the spectral presence of Bill O’Reilly hovering over that room. I don’t want that moment to be about politics. I don’t want the yearly bittersweet act of hanging the handcrafted ornaments I inherited when my mother died to feel like some sort of concession to the right-wing knuckleheads.

Atrios said it well a few days back — these people have managed to spoil Christmas. It’s the story of the Grinch, re-told, except this time, the Grinch has learned to be even sneakier — he’s sucking the joy out of Christmas by posing as its biggest defender, creating conflict and strife where none need exist.