The Day Before the Day Before...

I was driving around doing Christmas errands in Christmas traffic this morning, Bush, and I confess I tuned in to a talk radio station. I haven't actually done this for years, because it had gotten so grating, so one-sided, so polemical that I just couldn't stand it any more. I couldn't even laugh at it. Well, I was right. This morning the station offered a smorgasbord of three different hosts--I won't mention their names, although two of them I'd never even heard of. But I was frankly sickened. Not by the conservative point of view, Bush. I think I can handle that, no matter how much I may disagree with it. But by the tone. The aggressiveness. The aggrievement. The intolerance. The anger. And, yes, the absolute absence of any sign of charity toward the targets of their wrath. And their callers were no better.

These are the same folks who have been whining about the war on Christmas, Bush. As though such a war existed. As though the sounds and symbols of Christmas weren't everywhere in evidence, as though you could walk into a mall or a supermaket anywhere and not be regaled by Christmas carols heralding the birth of the baby Jesus! As though Christmas had not already been stolen by those who have turned it into the festival of commerce--with whom these belly-achers presumably have no quarrel.

What struck me as remarkable on my return visit to talk radio, though, was the venom. The vitriolic name-calling. The hatred for those they rant against, the verbal abuse. It's worse than ever--worse, certainly, than when I last tuned in. So much for Christian charity on the occasion of Christ's birth. So much for the vaunted spirit of Christmas. So much for loving your neighbor as yourself and turning the other cheek. I'd love to hear you, just once--at Christmas, maybe--disown some of this poisonous cant.