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Amanda Marcotte’s Trigglypuff Christmas

On December 25, SJW scribe plans to immiserate herself to show Trump how bad he is
Screen Shot 2019-12-03 at 8.08.18 PM

When I was a little kid, my father used to delight my sister and me by singing this ditty:

Maw and Paw went to the circus;

Paw got hit with a rolling pin.

Maw and Paw got even with the circus

They bought tickets, but they didn’t go in!

That came to mind when I read this Amanda Marcotte essay about how she’s allowed Donald Trump to steal her Christmas joy, such as it was. Excerpts:

I’m an atheist, and have been at least my whole adult life. So the concept of Christmas as a religious holiday has never had any hold on me. But for believers and non-believers alike in this country, it’s always been more of a secular holiday, at least in the United States. It’s  about celebrating family togetherness and a larger sense of the nation coming together in the spirit of joy and generosity.

But all that feels like a lie in Trump’s America.

Oh boy. It’s showtime at the Prytania! More:

For me, it’s personal. My family is mostly a bunch of Trump voters, sucked up into a vortex of propaganda and lies, unable even to admit basic facts about the world that run contrary to what their tribal politics dictate. That sort of thing is stressful on a normal day, but makes a mockery of the idea of familial love and harmony.

This isn’t a matter of political differences that can be set aside for the sake of the holiday. This is about not being able to make merry with people who think nothing of voting for a man who is on tape bragging about sexual assault, a man who cheats in elections and runs concentration camps on the border. A man whose racism has inspired a wave of terrorist violenceincluding in my hometown of El Paso, Texas.

To be sure, my partner and I had already, for the sake of our sanity, given up visiting relatives back in Texas for the holidays.

And all the kinfolks back in El Paso be like, “Make Bloody Marys ’cause we ALL WANT ONE!”

It goes on:

Family is a touchy subject and the spirit of communal joy seems like a joke. The only thing left is the materialism of the season. Which, to be fair, seems to be going full force. The pull of capitalism is such that, unless you can plead poverty, the annual round of gift exchanges will go on no matter how much the nation appears to be collapsing around us. Gift baskets, I have discovered, are the saving grace of the person who has to put the bare minimum into Christmas but whose heart is not in it. And unlike the  often baffling gifts people give you when they try to guess at what you might like, getting a box of cookies is usually pretty welcome.

I can sense the shaming, criticism and condescension coming my way, let me be clear: I am not a joyless person.

She’s a joyless person.

Read it all. 

Maybe she should call up Elie Mystal and Trigglypuff to see if they want to meet up on December 25 and drink baijiu-and-Sprite cocktails, and listen to “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” on tape loop all day long. Bet all those horrible Texas Trumpers down in El Paso are just real sorry not to be seeing Amanda.

Can you imagine letting a politician live so completely inside your head that you end up hating on Christmas? Miss Marcotte’s most recent book is titled Troll Nation: How The Right Became Trump-Worshipping Monsters Set On Rat-F*cking Liberals, America, and Truth Itself. I think we see the problem here, folks.

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