Good Tidings & Great Pain – Ch. 6, Christmas Future
We all know someone who does it. We may even have been guilty of it ourselves. I call it the “I had a dream” speech. It usually goes something like this:
Oh my God! I had the weirdest dream last night. It was so freaky, but it felt really real. I was wearing roller-skates, and I was trying to skate down the hall of the place I used to work, but the carpet was really thick so I couldn’t, and then my mom showed up, but she wasn’t really my mom… and she was only wearing underwear, and speaking some language. I think it was Portuguese.
“Fascinating,” you think. “When will it end?”
And she kept yelling at me in Portuguese, or German or something, and pointing at my roller-skates until this giraffe showed up, with a really short neck that made her run away. Isn’t that so weird? I mean, a GIRAFFE? Really? And THEN…
By this point, you feel your eyes glazing over, and your brain’s magnetic field has turned to static. You will do anything to make it stop.
Here’s where it gets good. You were in it! Remember that burger place we went to that time? Well then somehow I was there, and so were you, and your hair was totally different…
The rule of the “I had a dream” speech is that if it takes more than 15 seconds, your friend or loved one has the right to stuff something in your mouth to make you stop.
Nobody told Sarah Palin the rule. I know this, because Chapter 6 of Good Tidings and Great Joy is her “I had a dream” speech, only worse. She is telling you about a dream she never actually had, and just makes it up as she goes along. It’s a vision of the future in Anchorage, Alaska. And it lasts more than 15 seconds. It lasts seventeen pages.
SEVEN. TEEN. PAGES.
Sarah Palin believes that these seventeen pages are fascinating. She expects people to read these 17 pages. I’m here to say that if there’s anyone left who bought this book, or was given it as a Christmas gift, who is still reading it at this point, this is where they snap the book closed and put it on the bookshelf next to Glenn Beck’s The Christmas Sweater to gather dust for all eternity.
Here’s a little sample of the fascinating prose.
December 2028, Anchorage, Alaska
“You’re early, Nana,” Tripp says when he answers the door. I’m always surprised at how tall he is, though I swear he sprouted up yet another foot since starting college.
“Holy. What are they feeding you here?” I ask, tipping my trifocals to peer up at my strapping grandson, the newest recruit on the Seawolves hockey team. He’s dressed in team sweats.
“I haven’t had moose chili all semester, but the dorm food’s decent and Costco’s food court is just down the road,” he says. “So, I’m eating, Nan.” Two other big guys show up behind Tripp. He introduces his teammates from Michigan and Minnesota. “We’re just about to slap some pucks on the outdoor ice,” Tripp says apologetically. “Want me to bag it so we can beat the dinner rush?”
My Christmas dinner with Tripp has become one of my favorite annual traditions. Normally we meet in Wasilla when everyone comes home for the holidays. However, I had business in Anchorage that day so I decided to surprise him on campus by taking him out early… “
Bla bla bla bla for 17 completely italicized pages.
Not even any Portuguese. No giraffes. Nobody in their underwear. But 17 mind-numbing, interminable pages about her fantasy visit to her grandson Tripp’s college campus in the future. She has dubbed this section, “Vision of Christmas Yet to Come… If the Militant Atheists and SecularLiberals Have Their Way.”
Here are the highlights of that narcissistic morass where others refuse to tread:
- Everyone on campus has vacant, dead eyes because the Christmas spirit has been drained out of them.
- There is not a Christmas celebration to be found, only Solstice and Saturnalia ones which involve writing down bad things on slips of paper, tucking them in to a man made of twigs and setting him on fire.
- The University of Alaska offers lectures called “The Christmas Myth: Rediscovering the Pagan Roots of a Hijacked Holiday” and “Should You Trust Your Parents Again? Recovering from the Santa Lie.”
- Sarah Palin “would rather go vegan for a day than sit through these lectures.”
- A school administrator compares the annihilation of Christmas celebrations on campus with the end of slavery. Sarah Palin is horrified. “I inaudibly gulp. Did this gal just compare me wanting to celebrate Christmas to the evils of slavery?”
NO! You did not! You made it up! It is your own fantasy persecution, and is literally manufactured outrage! And whatever editor allowed the sentence, “I inaudibly gulp” to be printed in a book should die the death of a thousand paper cuts.
(I break for soup)
(I return in a better mood)
- Decorations on campus include fake pineapples and other tropical fruit, and there is not a candy cane in sight. Administrators wear “synthetic mukluks” outdoors, and Birkenstocks indoors. Holiday tree sales benefit rainforest preservation. Oh, the horror.
- She is so appalled at the murder of Christmas that she is tempted to say, “Yippee Skippee” in a sarcastic tone. She is tempted to say, “No kidding, Sherlock,” also in a sarcastic tone. But ever the diplomat, she bites her tongue so as not to offend people she hates for not wanting to offend people.
- The horrible politically correct university has created a “manger scene” to welcome the rebirth of the sun, with a girl baby, and Darwin, Einstein and Edison as the wise men. There is also a crucifixion scene in which a skeleton adorned with a Santa hat hangs on the cross to symbolize the death of the Christmas myth.
- The bathrooms are now unisex and contain foot washing stations because the Muslim students were having a hard time ritually washing their feet in the sink.
- She comes across the ending of the annual Eid celebration and wonders if they sacrificed a camel. A camel like the one she saw when she went to the Middle East more than once to visit our troops, on account of her patriotism, and the fact that she has to mention the troops in here somewhere.
- Tripp shows up still in his hockey gear and says, “Nana? Where’d you go? You disappeared like a willow ptarmigan.” He has had to abandon hockey practice early because men are banned from the facility to make room for Muslim women who don’t feel comfortable exercising in front of them.
Apparently, “militant atheists” and “secular liberals” are all about the blatant tax-funded promotion of Islam. Or, Palin wants to fan the flames of Islamophobia and sell more books to the lowest common denominator of fear and intolerance. You decide.
Our little jaunt into the future is now over. But, have hope! It doesn’t have to be all doom, gloom, and political correctness.
Let’s look at the other version of Christmas Yet to Come… Christmas carols in the quad; Christian students daring the student at the Santa Crucifixion booth to a debate; the Fellowship of Christian Athletes; and finally after six attempts the 81-year old Mitt Romney is the new President elect.
It’s your future, people. You decide.
I’ll be slogging my way through the last chapter…