Sweet baby Jesus the war on Not Christmas is heating up. Not Christmas is trembling in the corner as Father Christmas, having broken and entered, romps around a giant nativity scene bellowing, off-pitch, about a child who just saw a fat burglar in a red pajama suit kissing her mom. Egg nog in hand, he clumsily shifts to a different track, warning that he sees you when you're sleeping, knows when you're hiding from him under the bed. He's inside your head, along with Jesus. He'll punish or reward you based on how you conform to his wishes. He doesn't mention how his offerings of sugar and plastic are made by Indonesian child slaves. That's too obviously evil.
Whoops, did I say the war on Not Christmas is heating up? I meant flaring up, because Christmas is a hemorrhoid on the ass of the universe, at most. This entire scene is intra-hemorrhoidal. Not christmas only exists in relation to Christmas. That ass will heal, friends.
Anyway, how about that war on Muslims, a war that's actually a war, with bombs and whatforth?