O’ Christmas, fuck you…

This is one of the few posts ever on this rambling chaos (all apologies to Donald Trump and Jeb Bush) that I call a blog.

I nearly always think of a title after I’m done with my spiel. The title usually fits the subject, and sometimes, during the composition, a title will make itself know. Sometimes I reach and strain to push out a good title. That is not pleasant.

Nah. Not now.

This title preceded the thought, the cognitive scourge I’m about to lay out.

Christmas is such a pain in the ass.

I hate it. I invest as little time and energy in it as humanly possible.

I hate everything about it. Goddamned gifts, goddamned trees, goddamned Santa Claus, goddamned mangers, hate.

And to an atheist, whose child is grown, what the hell does this end-of-the-year refutation of good sense do for me?
Absolutely nothing.

Even if I choose to opt-out, everyone around me has not. And I still get to experience that second-hand Christmas madness, that Jack Frost assault on my sensibilities.

There is no escape. There can be none, not in this society.

Hate. Christmas.

Is it supposed to be like this?

I remember running home late on Sunday Winter nights after picking mistletoe with the boy scout troop to watch The Little Drummer Boy. So magical, so genuinely spirited and humble.

The Little Drummer Boy is Christmas.

Donald Trump, the laxative worker.

Althouse posted an insightful character insight into the enigma that is Donald Trump, a political chameleon if ever there was one.


Donald Trump is, always has been, a peddler of images and facades. Even his national boundary walls are symbolic rather than brick. And his demagoguery? He is smoke and mirrors, a shifting mirage that beacons the modern American Aggrieved Class.



My support for Donald Trump is not for the man, the aspiring politician. It is for the tumult and entropy his roaming disaster is bringing to the impacted stagnation that American politics has become.



Althouse wrote, concerning Rush Limbaugh’s epiphany on the “substance” of Donald Trump, the Great Chameleon.


Rush proceeds to observe that Trump’s supporters really are not all that conservative and Trump’s positions aren’t that conservative. Trump attacked Cruz for opposing ethanol, and he took a shot at Antonin Scalia for bringing up the mismatch argument in the affirmative action case. These are “red flags” for conservatives.



American political practice, its procedural manifestation and mired encasement, needs to be upset. And for this, I am “grateful” for Donald Trump’s Presidential aspirations. I welcome an “outsider’s” presence who might very well upset the apple cart, regardless of the egomania driving his crusade.



Donald Trump is no ideologue or principled man; he is a carnival barker. At least he’s making people sweat.

Trump Ex