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Thursday, December 22, 2005

Victory in the War on Christmas

It's nice to know that Bill O'Reilly doesn't pull his punches when it comes to calling out the true face of evil. While those weak-kneed sob sisters on the left might mewl about genocide or torture chambers, Bill knows that strong epithets like that should be reserved for much more sinister forces -- namely those who criticize Bill O'Reilly.

Those egg-sucking devils at Media Matters? "[T]he most vile, despicable human beings in the country...the worst...non-criminal element in the country...despicable, vile...ankle biters."

Andrea Mackris? "[T]he single most evil thing I have ever experienced --— and I've seen a lot."

And now, joining this illustrious predecessors: The New Yorker Magazine, who this week made it to the number 4 spot on the O'Reilly enemies list.

Lucky bastards.

How did they earn the coveted title? Well by daring not only to pshaw the War on Christmas which they deride as phony (and here we must concur with Bill -- we worked damn hard to plan that war) but also for having the audacity to compare him to Henry Ford:
Christmas itself, in something like its recognizably modern form, with gifts and cards and elves, dates from the early nineteenth century. The War on Christmas seems to have come along around a hundred years later, with the publication of "“The International Jew," by Henry Ford, the automobile magnate, whom fate later punished by arranging to have his fortune diverted to the sappy, do-gooder Ford Foundation. "It is not religious tolerance in the midst of religious difference, but religious attack that they -- —the Jews -- “preach and practice." he wrote. "“The whole record of the Jewish opposition to Christmas, Easter and certain patriotic songs shows that."” Ford'’s anti-Semitism has not aged well, thanks to the later excesses of its European adherents, but by drawing a connection between Christmas bashing and patriotism-scorning he pointed the way for future Christmas warriors.
Much as we'd like to dismiss the New Yorker's victory as being the product of nepotism, happenstance or the well-placed cocktail weenie, the sad truth is they earned it.

And while the crossover audience of the New Yorker readership and Factor viewers can probably be counted amongst the world's shortest lists, we know those New Yorker editors are walking with just a bit more spring in their step tonight for being the newest inductee into that pantheon to which so many aspire.

Our hopes for 2006 are renewed. Who knew O'Reilly could read.