It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Every year, the War on Christmas comes earlier and earlier.

Where does the time go? My meeting with the Northwestern Division Atheistical Sanhedrin (NORWESDAS, for short)--at which Julia Sweeney (looking quite fetching in a Prada-made black cape and cowl), me, Henry Rollins, and the Mythbusters set fire to a ceremonial Christmas Tree while singing the A side of the fifth Black Sabbath album and popping man-sized balloons inflated in the shape of TV Pundit William Bennett--seems like it happened just yesterday. I remember how we plotted all night to place ourselves, by means both insidious and foul, in key positions to rename the Christmas decorations slated to hang in the town square of Chitting Switch, Montana "holiday decorations". I remember cackling "WHERE WILL THEIR PRECIOUS GOD BE THEN! MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

After the orgy (a bacchanalia of absinthe and Vietnamese spin-fuck chairs), we said goodbye to each other with the traditional NORWESDAS salute, and melted away in the night mist.

Now it's time to buy the onyx candles and heroin again. I swear, if it keeps up, we'll be starting the War on Christmas on Labor Day.