I appear to be lost.

Anyone who isn't Eartha Kitt singing "Santa Baby," but Madonna in particular because she is so ubiquitous.

I have decided that this blog is the perfect place to air the things that bug me that are so petty I'd feel like an asshole even mentioning them.

So let me mention them here.

One, penguins have absolutely nothing to do with Christmas. Unlike polar bears, who have a tenuous link to the winter holidays because they share the North Pole with Santa, penguins live in the SOUTH Pole. Also, unlike farm animals, they were not present in the stable when Jesus was born. Hence, they have NO FUCKING PLACE in Christmas décor.



Also.

Crosses are out of place at Christmastime. It is an anachronism, and a buzz-kill, and it makes no sense. The only one I've seen who seems to be similarly bothered by this theological incongruity is an atheist.

Please do not include those two items among your Christmas decorations, because I may or may not be receiving a flame thrower for Christmas, and if I were you, I wouldn't take any chances.

Thank you for your prompt attention to this matter.

I'm like an 80's stock trader doing coke in the afternoon and drinking scotch to fall asleep at night, only with me it's Sudaphed at 7 p.m. and chamomile tea in the middle of the night. In my zeal to avoid another sinus headache at all costs, I seem to have overmedicated myself by taking the aforementioned Sudaphed (12 hour), a Claritin and two squirts of Nasonex in each nostril, and now I've got the shakes and can't sleep. But enough about my glamorous drug-addled life, and onto why I think what's happening to Christmas heralds the destruction of humanity's underpinnings.

I do believe Christmas is under attack, but it's not at the hands of atheists or the ACLU or non-Christians. And, it's not just Christmas -- I theorize, with absolutely no evidence except my gut feelings, which is what I base most of my cockamamie theories upon (cockamamie's a fun word, isn't it?), that the same forces are fighting a "war on weddings."

But let's focus on Christmas for now. What's destroying Christmas is not an effort to squash it outright, but a mighty successful campaign to replace it. It's not a "don't celebrate Christmas," but a "celebrate Christmas THIS way."

How much of the ubiquitous cultural "Christmas" machine is actually religious? How many made-for-TV movies starring Patricia Heaton have anything to do with Jesus being born? How many Claymations specials? Is it the incarnation of Jesus Christ and the story surrounding it that drives people to the psychiatrist's couch?

No, it's the incessant Andy Williams songs pushing "The Most Wonderful Time of the Year" down our throats with military precision, and the accompanying "What's wrong with you?" if you don't agree.

And there is a prescription to what makes it "wonderful," and it has nothing to do with God. It's about maintaining stability, keeping the herd of cows in line, and the commercialism and consumerism is the icing on the cake. Playing the "Why do you hate Baby Jesus?" card is a convenient club to keep people from questioning the "traditions," many of which are completely contrived and only about 50 years old.

I also feel Christianity in general is being threatened in the same way, by Mega-churches whose goal has nothing to do with God and everything with promoting the "American" way of life. This is the brand of "Christianity" that is growing.

Right now, I feel like studying the propaganda techniques of the former Soviet Union and other totalitarian regimes, because I have the sneaking suspicion they're being used on us.

Of course, that could just be the Sudaphed talking.

I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed lately.

In case I don't get a chance to post, I'll leave something to cheer up my sick sister:

Does Moxie always have to "do her doggie business" at 3 a.m., but she just holds it until morning?

What is my neighbor kid doing outside? No, not a little one -- one of those college-age kids that live across from Tim in the house that got new siding this year. What kind of job does he have?

Why are Don and Arlene coming home from somewhere? And what's in the plastic bags?

Is that a possum? It's HUGE!

Why does my ear hurt?

Why can't I sleep?

If I do a mind dump into blogger, will it help?

I've got way too much to do tomorrow to be missing sleep like this.

I have to remember to drop off the clothes for the donation at school. I might as well bring the M&M's too.

Is this because I had a Coke with dinner? But I fell asleep at the normal time. Actually, early. Is this because I fell asleep too EARLY? But I was really just dozing. I mean, I got up at 11:30 to take the Sudaphed 12 hour. Is this because of the Sudaphed 12 hour?

I need to go to the grocery store. I hate the grocery store. I hate all shopping.

Why am I so nervous?

In Canada



And in my own home state of Illinois

What is with Illinois governors, anyway?

What do YOU think it is?

I realized my darker impulses had taken over when I Googled "Happy Sunshine Fun Time," with the intention of switching to happiness and light over here, found this, and felt so compelled to mock and degrade that poor woman. Bill King is of the opinion that I should totally do it, and make her commit hari-kari with her pinking shears. But this is a man who tried to kill me, and who is a recognized source of pure evil. [EDIT: Here's how he tried to kill me. As you can see here, poisoning often causes the victim's face to form a forced grimace.]

Do I choose evil, or good?

I feel like Sylar on Heroes. Fans of that show understand.

I must grab hold of myself.

I will distract myself by planning feverishly for the event of the social season:

Thank you all for your concerns about my brother. He's fine. Well, he didn't have a heart attack, anyways. And Cuntzilla isn't willing to let him die, or uncaring if he is dying, or anything like that. She just is ... anyone here a farmer? Who has dealt with chickens? And how brainless and easily terrified and unable to comprehend anything outside of a very narrow band of self-interest? Yeah. That's her.

I may be back later. If I find myself in a tizzy. You'll be the first to know.

I had started another post, but I got interrupted.

Cuntzilla,

I don't know if your ignorance is willful or not.

Either you are so stupid and infantile you don't know that chest pains are dangerous*, or you are a murderous harpie waiting for my brother to die. It doesn't matter at this point. He is not safe with you.

Jeanne Martini is headed to your house, because after talking to me on the phone, she knows that YOU are not safe with ME, and she doesn't want one sibling in the hospital and one sibling in jail for Christmas.

The best case scenario, which is not a good one, is that my brother is driving himself to the hospital. The worst one is he didn't go. Actually, he might be safer having his heart attack at work, since they'll actually call an ambulance and he'll receive more care and compassion there. So, maybe that's not so bad after all. The worstest worst case scenario is if he stayed home with you.

I don't know if it's possible to get you legally removed as a potential source of harm to my brother, but I sure wish I could.

In case you can't tell, I am not pleased with you right now.

*For two days, Cuntzilla? My brother, who is under tremendous stress because you are on the brink of losing your house because you can't fucking GROW UP and control yourself, who is 45 years old and at peak heart attack age, should have chest pains looked at IMMEDIATELY. You fucking selfish stupid cow.

I was going to update a story I'd written many moons ago. It was going to be a spectacular, multi-media event, had I gotten around to it. But before I could, this happened.

I was scooped by the Chicago Tribune, who, despite yesterday's economic news and unfolding investigation of the Mumbai attacks, put that story on page 3 of Section 1. PAGE 3 of SECTION 1, not local news or human interest, but the fucking HEADLINE SECTION.

Clearly, they were so desperate to scoop me they lost control of their senses. Tribune, you may have won this time, but I will be back. Enjoy your success while you can, you arrogant bastards!

However, once again, the online version has no pictures. What good is a story like that without PICTURES??? It's in the print version. It's her in all her holiday glory. I'll take a picture later. I may have neglected several season's worth of her costume changes, including this year's Halloween spectacle with the strategically-placed pumpkins and last year's Christmasy-red slit skirt with the lights going up her dress, but I vow to you I WILL get a picture of this year's jingle bell-elf get-up.

In it's place, please enjoy the patriotic Fourth-of-July ensemble in its place, courtesy of this guy.



I will do my best to keep you updated on the newest and greatest from Downers Grove. When I get around to it.

Not that anyone asked.

I read some snippet of an editorial (yeah, I'm a credible news source. I don't feel like adequately researching or linking today. You'll have to Google stuff yourself) where some woman "cringed" because Michelle Obama cheerfully referred to herself as "the First Mom."

Horrors! How could a woman with a university degree degrade herself like that, taking on such a foul, fetid position in life. How is such a thing possible in the year two thousand and eight? Haven't we invented an army of robots to take on the disgusting, distasteful task of raising our putrid offspring yet?

If that bitch wants something to cringe about, I'll give it to her in the form of my fist aimed at her face. Being a mom is a profession, and an honorable one. If someone claims she "isn't using her brain enough" in the course of raising children, then she isn't doing it right.

I'll give you my two cents worth as to what this whole "just a mom" thing is about. Unlike people in paid positions, full-time parents don't have a boss or performance reviews or someone to give them fawning adoration for their accomplishments. They don't have an audience to clap for them.

Well, I say if you need that to fuel your "self-worth," you're an immature glory whore. What we need is MORE people willing to forgo self-aggrandizement for the sake of the common good, not fewer.

And that, my friends, is what is pissing me off today.