As the Christmas Warriors take the Battle of Seasonally Correct Nomenclature to Fox and Friends, a few habitues of this blog have adopted a more old-fashioned, if less media-savvy approach to the holidays. Among them would be Wo’C founder s.z., who is well known as the Mother Theresa of abandoned, semi-domesticated beasts, and our friend Anntichrist Coulter, who, while recovering from extensive and painful back surgery, is leading a fundraising effort to save a friend afflicted with a life-threatening brain tumor. In today’s political and social climate their efforts may appear as quaint as a Charles Wysocki print, but then, Jesus seemed to care a bit more about healing the sick and caring for the poor and helpless then he did about which color napkins were issued at his birthday party.
Dorothy put it better than we could hope to in the comments:
So anyway…This holiday season, instead of giving money to fund the insurgency of seasonal semantics, consider giving a few dollars to keep a young woman alive. Because if we can be judged by the quality of the people who love us, then Lee must be a remarkable person indeed.
And Happy Holidays everyone.
Dorothy put it better than we could hope to in the comments:
Anntichrist’s rant is much less bizarre if you know that she and her “evil, Christmas hating cohorts” have spent the past year travelling back and forth to New Orleans to bring aid to Katrina refugees, gut destroyed homes, and rebuild broken lives and the past several weeks trying to raise hundreds of thousands of dollars to help a cancer victim without medical insurance get a life-or-death operation.And longtime friend of the program D.Sidhe, in her usually whip-smart and eloquent way, adds the delightful cherry on top:
Meanwhile, The Christmas Warriors dedicate all their time and effort drumming up support, donations, and media time for a meaningless publicity stunt propped up by rumors and lies and bigotry…and they get to lay claim to “the real spirit of Christmas”?
The Christmas Warriors who skip in here and whine that we can’t know anything about God or Christmas are an insult to the people here who I’ve watched donate time and money to all sorts of causes, often on the basis of only a few paragraphs from someone they’ve never met. And when these sorts of comments come from people who clearly believe that it’s more important to have people saying the right things than doing the right things, the contrast couldn’t be more marked.I heartily endorse her remarks in every respect, except for the limerick part. Because anyone with even a cursory grasp a demography must realize that we are already dangerously taxing the finite supply of men in Nantucket.
Jesus told a story, as I recall, about a man with two sons whom he asked to work in the vineyard. One refused, but later felt bad and did it anyway. The other agreed, but never did. Possibly you learned this in a Sunday School class somewhere along the way, but the lesson, you might remember, is that it is more important what you do than what you say.
By which definition, many here must be far more pleasing to a god some of them don’t even believe in than the Christmas Warriors who worry more about what’s on an ad than who’s in a shelter. It’s a category that absolutely includes Anntichrist Coulter, however put off you may be by her chosen nick or her way of speaking, and I’m delighted to count myself among her friends.
Also, I like limericks.
So anyway…This holiday season, instead of giving money to fund the insurgency of seasonal semantics, consider giving a few dollars to keep a young woman alive. Because if we can be judged by the quality of the people who love us, then Lee must be a remarkable person indeed.
And Happy Holidays everyone.
9 Responses to “Jesus: Friend of Tax Collectors, Whores, And Delightfully Profane Chicks From New Orleans”
Oh, fine, lay on the guilt.
And don’t worry about the supply of men from Nantucket, Scott; all those limericks are about the same guy-wotta hottie!
Seems I’ve missed out on some “fun” around these parts, what with these “Sex-mess Warriorz” round and about (“aboot?”), and, damnit, they’d hate me for a variety of reasons–just see my infamous “PlayStation3″ comment from a week-or-two ago. I never get the personal abuse I crave around here! It’s almost enough to make me a WATB, sheesh!
And don’t worry about the supply of men from Nantucket, Scott; all those limericks are about the same guy-wotta hottie!
Seems I’ve missed out on some “fun” around these parts, what with these “Sex-mess Warriorz” round and about (“aboot?”), and, damnit, they’d hate me for a variety of reasons–just see my infamous “PlayStation3″ comment from a week-or-two ago. I never get the personal abuse I crave around here! It’s almost enough to make me a WATB, sheesh!
Honestly, I don’t even know what to say.
I do have to say that while I am awed and humbled by such true and loving words, that I’m not all that Dorothy has cracked me up to be. We have raised four grand thus far, as far as I know. Haven’t heard from any of those corporate sponsors yet. And I have been to NOLA exactly once since Katrina, I never got in while it was happening, because by the time that I realized that I needed to get my fat ass down there, the state troopers had locked-down US 61 and the interstates.
I did what I could with what y’all sent down here, to help the people in the shelters, MY people, who were being rejected, slandered, and abused by many a fine white and delightsome community in this state. I did what the Red fucking Cross refused to do for six fucking days. I got y’all’s money turned into diapers and clothes and baby formula and food and water and personal hygiene products and then cash and pet food and pet toys and blankets and leashes and everything else that we could think of for the LSU Ag Center Emergency Animal Shelter.
But I never did get to New Orleans during Katrina. If I had left the house sooner, Barry Cowsill might still be amongst us, maybe not. I refuse to look through the rolls of the dead & MIA, because I don’t want to know who else I let down, down there.
Scott & S.Z., y’all have done so much good for Lee, for me, for the whole fucking blogosphere — I hope y’all know how much I admire you and everything that y’all have accomplished. If I ever grow up, I *so* wanna be y’all, although I doubt that I could live in L.A. — those people don’t even know how to EAT.
But I did need to set that record straight, because as honored as I am to have y’all passing a good word about me, I don’t want to take credit for stuff that I haven’t actually accomplished. At least not yet. We’ve still got a long way to go.
Medicaid (as in, shaming the fuck out of the State Of Louisiana) might actually help out SOME, believe it or not. I just posted about it at Lee’s blog — and I’m still waiting on word from Shreveport, where they went today to see the specialist. Once we know what the specialist recommends, then we’ll know where to go from there.
More news as we have it.
And again, as always, thank y’all so much for your neverending support. Wo’C is a helluva lot better than any fairy tale that any christian’s ever tried to push, and if an Anntichrist ever dies, I wanna come here for eternity.
I do have to say that while I am awed and humbled by such true and loving words, that I’m not all that Dorothy has cracked me up to be. We have raised four grand thus far, as far as I know. Haven’t heard from any of those corporate sponsors yet. And I have been to NOLA exactly once since Katrina, I never got in while it was happening, because by the time that I realized that I needed to get my fat ass down there, the state troopers had locked-down US 61 and the interstates.
I did what I could with what y’all sent down here, to help the people in the shelters, MY people, who were being rejected, slandered, and abused by many a fine white and delightsome community in this state. I did what the Red fucking Cross refused to do for six fucking days. I got y’all’s money turned into diapers and clothes and baby formula and food and water and personal hygiene products and then cash and pet food and pet toys and blankets and leashes and everything else that we could think of for the LSU Ag Center Emergency Animal Shelter.
But I never did get to New Orleans during Katrina. If I had left the house sooner, Barry Cowsill might still be amongst us, maybe not. I refuse to look through the rolls of the dead & MIA, because I don’t want to know who else I let down, down there.
Scott & S.Z., y’all have done so much good for Lee, for me, for the whole fucking blogosphere — I hope y’all know how much I admire you and everything that y’all have accomplished. If I ever grow up, I *so* wanna be y’all, although I doubt that I could live in L.A. — those people don’t even know how to EAT.
But I did need to set that record straight, because as honored as I am to have y’all passing a good word about me, I don’t want to take credit for stuff that I haven’t actually accomplished. At least not yet. We’ve still got a long way to go.
Medicaid (as in, shaming the fuck out of the State Of Louisiana) might actually help out SOME, believe it or not. I just posted about it at Lee’s blog — and I’m still waiting on word from Shreveport, where they went today to see the specialist. Once we know what the specialist recommends, then we’ll know where to go from there.
More news as we have it.
And again, as always, thank y’all so much for your neverending support. Wo’C is a helluva lot better than any fairy tale that any christian’s ever tried to push, and if an Anntichrist ever dies, I wanna come here for eternity.
and TCGs are rightfully spanked. And they know it, or else they’d be trolling here, too. Especially since it was posted before SZs AWESOME piece.
I just thought of something. Is the TCG guys downthread the actual TCG who were on Fox & Friends and all?
If so, wow. Not only is feeding the hungry or helping the needy way, way down below getting on national teevee to whine about semantics and lack of extra-special treatment due a White America, but it’s also below coming to a relatively minor-league liberal blog and acting like an asshole about it. And lie. And misdirect. And whine even more. And strut like a crowing rooster. Ugh.
Anti, I wish I could give more money but I hope what I have will help in some way. I ran into a good friend of mine today, one of the sweetest cats I’ve ever met, and learned that his wife’s recent health scare is working itself out. They’re musicians and, thus, poorer than church mice, but the local scene rallied around them, mainly because you can’t know the wife and not love her dearly. They’re not out of the woods yet, but the boy was positively beaming with happiness.
Much hope for a likewise recovery for your friend.
If so, wow. Not only is feeding the hungry or helping the needy way, way down below getting on national teevee to whine about semantics and lack of extra-special treatment due a White America, but it’s also below coming to a relatively minor-league liberal blog and acting like an asshole about it. And lie. And misdirect. And whine even more. And strut like a crowing rooster. Ugh.
Anti, I wish I could give more money but I hope what I have will help in some way. I ran into a good friend of mine today, one of the sweetest cats I’ve ever met, and learned that his wife’s recent health scare is working itself out. They’re musicians and, thus, poorer than church mice, but the local scene rallied around them, mainly because you can’t know the wife and not love her dearly. They’re not out of the woods yet, but the boy was positively beaming with happiness.
Much hope for a likewise recovery for your friend.
Hey, Scott, do you mind if I go around telling people you think I’m “usually whip smart”? I mentioned that to my partner, who said, “Why? What stupid thing did you just say?” I laughed and laughed and revised my Christmas list.
Crap. Hoist on my own modifier.
You’re kidding, I trust. I loved it and will charish it always. Of course, I’m easily amused.
Also I can’t spell and didn’t proofread that till I hit “submit”.
Isn’t that how it works for all of us? Heh (I’m surprised that I didn’t type that as “Osn’t that…”).
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