HAPPY HOLIDAYS, WAR IS OVER! (Featuring Twinkles the Intern)

Twinkles the Intern

Hi! I'm Twinkles, the Intern, and I'm the guest blogger this week.  The Invisible Diva is under the weather because she got into her holiday stash of Bailey's Irish Cream a little early and now has a case of the Blarney Flu. She wants me to report that each share of this blog post counts as a thought or prayer toward her recovery!  I did not know that God had Wifi, but the Diva assured me, "Twinkles, if God didn't love social media, then why would he create the prayer emoji?" That makes so much sense!!!




Speaking of God, my Aunt Donatella called me last week with the most exciting news! "Twinkles," she said, "The President has made it official. The War On Christmas is over!" I immediately called my new boyfriend, Manbun Von Latte, to share the joy!
"The troops are coming home!" I shouted.
"What? From Afghanistan??"
"No! From wherever they are fighting the War on Christmas! It's over! Manbun, run into the streets and find a nurse to kiss!"
"Twinkles," he said, "First of all, please do not encourage me to engage in sexual assault. Secondly, the whole Christmas thing is nothing but a confabulation of the plutocracy designed to keep the masses in check so that they will engage in the capitalistic acquisition of goods to support the top 1%. Now, I have to go. I'm taking my Mac-Pro over to Starbucks so I can continue to participate in The Revolution via Twitter."

"For Christmas, I'd like a gender-neutral donation to several of my favorite charities. Please make them in my name so I can write them off on my tax returns. Also? An X-Box."

I was a little disappointed that he didn't want to celebrate with me, so I decided to call my friend, Rose O'Shannon McDohickey.  She's got a job at PetSmart, so she's practically a vet. I knew someone with her brains would understand the importance of this time in history!
"The War on Christmas has ended! Let's celebrate!" I said.
"Twinkles! What War on Christmas? I'm up to my my hind end in those stupid elf ears they make us wear during the season.  It's nothing but Christmas music all day long, filling the shelves with Santa-shaped dog bones, hanging up tiny stockings on the hamster cages.  We even have to put miniature trees in the fish tanks! Sometimes, it gets so crazy, I wish there were a War On Christmas. Now, I have to go.  I'm busy dying the parakeets red and green."

"Ho-freakin'-ho."

I was feeling dejected, so decided to visit my Great-Uncle Sam Patrioto at Our Lady of Geriatrics Nursing Home.
"No one understands, Uncle Sam. It's like the War never happened!"
"Oh, it happened, Twinkles. I lived through it! I watched General Bill O'Reilly report from the front, nightly! Our beautiful Christmas trees were replaced with Holiday Trees! All were forbidden to murmur the beloved words, 'Merry Christmas.' Nativity scenes were taken from the lawns of county courthouses and held as prisoners of war. There were rumors that the Post Office raised the price of stamps on the order of the President of the United States to make it impossible for us to afford to send Christmas cards."
"But, wait a minute, Uncle Sam!  I remember getting Christmas cards and having a Christmas tree. We said, 'Merry Christmas.' They played Christmas music in all the stores, and there were decorations in the town. Now that I think about it, I don't remember this war at all."
He slammed his hand on his TV tray and shouted, "GET OUT! You've been brain-washed by the liberal media! I'm cutting you out of the traditional exchanging of the fruitcake!"

I wandered the streets alone until I finally shouted in despair, "Is there anyone who knows what The War On Christmas was all about?"
Suddenly, a little kid appeared by my side."
"Sure, Twinkles. I can tell you what The War On Christmas was all about. Lights, please!"
I shone my iPhone flashlight on him.

"And there were in the same country shepherds, abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them! And they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, “Fear not! For, behold, I bring you tidings o great joy, which shall be to all my people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ, the Lord..."

"Wait a minute. I know this story. What does it have to do with the War On Christmas?"
He held his blanket to his cheek and sucked his thumb for just a second.
"Twinkles," he said, "The real War On Christmas happened when the story changed from this:

To this:

Then this:

"You see,  Twinkles," he continued, "when we care too much about the stuff, and what stores call a plastic tree, and how we greet one another, we've lost the war before it's begun."
"But,  I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't string lights at my Uncle Pete and Aunt Donicella's, or sing carols, or go to Midnight Mass! Are you saying that those things are wrong?"
"No, Twinkles. It's good to participate in the festivities associated with religious holidays. It's not good to make people of different religions do the same."
"But, why is saying 'Merry Christmas' a bad thing?"
"It's not. And no one is stopping you from doing it. In fact, you are allowed to worship in your church, decorate your home, watch Christmas specials on television, go to parades, visit Santa at the mall, and if you want to say 'Merry Christmas' to everyone you meet, no one will stop you. You see, there is no war, Twinkles.  But, since one of the meanings of Christmas is goodwill towards us all, shouldn't we think of the people of different religions who have holidays in December, too? Or even people who don't have a religion? Isn't it showing goodwill to wish those we do not know a happy holiday? Shouldn't we always be thoughtful, but especially at Christmas-time?"

"Yes! I think I've got it! In fact, I think my heart just grew three sizes, and....and...LOOK! I think I found ZuZu's petals in my pocket! Oh, wait. That's Manbun Von Latte's weed. Oops."
But, he was already headed down the street.
"Hey," I shouted after him, "Little kid! I don't even know your name?"
"Sometimes," he shouted back, "it's Linus. Other times, it's Clarence. Have a wonderful life, Twinkles!"
And I swore I heard a bell ring. 

Peace out!
Twinkles