An Open Letter

The rage and utter frustration I felt when I composed this all in my head are long since gone, dissipated by good food and warm hugs,  fleece quilts and Christmas songs on the radio, but the sentiment isn’t any less valid because it’s calmer now. I believe it bears saying, even if I’m no longer in the mood to yell.


You may take your dumbed down, jazzed up, desanitised, demoralised, degraded and disheartening excuse for a “Holiday Season” and shove it up your collective ass. You have taken Christmas and wiped it clean, leeched it dry of emotion and meaning, made it pc and palatable for the average consumer’s consumption. We have become a nation of overly sensitive, pansy-assed whiners far too willing to cry victim, and you are doing nothing to slow that process by giving in to the madness of equal freedom through opression of all.

I have been thus far able to ignore the swelling tide of intolerance by cheerfully doing just that – ignoring it. This year, you have struck a personal blow. You have taken away my music. The songs I grew up with, the songs I sang as a child, the songs I still sing to myself in the car, in the shower, in the dark at night when there’s nothing left but the frost on the window and the glow of Christmas tree lights – you have dubbed them all outdated, old-fashioned, and unworthy of your new, improved Holiday.

This year, I will send away every customer I serve with a smile and a “Merry Christmas.” And they will return that smile, and that greeting, and some of them will even thank me just for saying it, for not giving it to the “Happy Holidays” craze. You have no heart, no soul; there is no magic in your world of “buy and sell and get gain.” This does not give you the right to take it from ours.

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