Does Jesus Prefer Birch or Ash?

Blinded by the Light

With Thanksgiving out of the way, the Christmas decorating has started in full-force. Not at our house, mind you, I haven't been kicked in the ass by the Christmas-spirit fairy, yet. However, our fellow-Arkansans seem to be completely full of Christmas joy and goodwill. And, what better way to show their love for this festive time than to litter their lawns with tacky, plastic Virgin Marys and blinking lights? Of all the Christmas displays I've seen so far, 95% of them are horrible. I passed one house the other night, and I swear it looks like they took one end of the lights and plugged them in, and then got their dog drunk, gave him the other end and turned him loose in the yard.

And even though it pains me to mention it, I feel I must. To all of you who live in portable housing and have old cars and discarded living room furniture scattered on your lawn: 1. You should probably be spending your money on something other than Christmas lights, and 2. The lights aren't going to make your lawn look any better. They aren't going to hide your white-trashiness, oh thou who hast copulated with thine cousin. And do you know why they won't? Because, the plastic nativity scene in your yard already gave that little secret away. Not to mention the cars, furniture and the fact that you still have your Halloween decorations up.

Even the town square in Fayetteville is a disappointment in the Christmas display department. I expected white lights strung gracefully on branches in a tasteful display, but instead my sense of style was assaulted and violated by a plethora of multi-colored lights that were strewn about. That's right, people. Strewn. They were horribly strewn. There were trees with multi-colored lights up top and then red or green or blue lights on the trunk. Blue lights, red lights, orange lights, pink lights, green lights. Thousands upon thousands of lights in every shade of the rainbow. It was as though I'd stumbled into Liberace heaven.

Even the romance is gone from the town square Christmas debacle display. In previous years, there was a horse and carriage ride for the more amorous among us, but this year...there's a camel. Yeppers, you can ride a live camel. And, really, what bespeaks of love more succinctly than camel sweat?

I'm sure in some cultures it's an aphrodisiac.

What Wood Jesus Do?

The Guy Who Thinks He's Boss went to southern Arkansas over the Thanksgiving weekend and he brought this back just for me:

Well, we are apostrophe happy, aren't we? Do you suppose that maybe Joe and Wanda have this huge stockpile of cabinets behind their house waiting for Jesus to return? What on earth do they think Jesus would do with cabinets? Is this some new cult I don't know about? What would the saviour of mankind possibly keep in cabinets? I mean besides the wine, bread, fish and holy grail.

I really shouldn't make fun of Joe and Wanda, because Jesus was supposed to be a carpenter. So, they're just furthering the Lord's work in bringing the joy of cabinetry to the world. Praise Jesus for wooden repositories that hold our dishes and foodstuffs. Amen and again I say, Amen.

Take Care,
The Bablatrice - who isn't multi-colored, blinking or plastic.