I'm sitting on my recliner watching The View, as I do every morning, and, as usual, getting quite irritated in the bowels by Sherri Shepherd, the heavy-set, African-American co-host whose big fat face I cannot stand in the least.
The ladies are bantering about how it's become politically incorrect to say or write the words “Merry Christmas” and how that complicates the process of sending holiday cards.
“All my cards say ‘Merry Christmas,'” Shepherd barks defiantly, “because people know I'm a Christian, and if they are offended, they don't have to get my card.”
Joy Behar, one of the co-hosts on The View who can actually see and shit, explains to Shepherd that the point of a greeting card is to commemorate the holiday that the recipient is celebrating. “I'm a Christian, too,” Behar says, “but I send my Jewish friends ‘Happy Hanukkah' cards.”
“No,” spurts Shepherd, “this is my holiday!”
And there you have it, folks. It's Sherri Shepherd's holiday; we're just decorating it for her.
There are few people in this whole wide world whom I despise more than that woman. Her unwavering conviction to fatuous, infantile concepts is astounding. This is a person who believes Christianity predates all religions, wasn't sure if the world is flat or round and thought that taking Andy Dick to a Pentecostal church service would get him to change his ways.
So, no, I am not surprised that Ms. Shepherd would make such a remark, but when Elisabeth Hasselbeck agreed, well, that was a bit much. Hasselbeck—the blonde, right-wing, bumper-sticker spewing co-host of The View—ain't no Copernicus, either, but she's nowhere near as vacuous as Shepherd. Or so I thought.
Says Hasselbeck, “The Christmas card is not about who is receiving it—it's about who is sending,” to which Shepherd wildly claps her hands as though Hasselbeck had just given her a gift certificate to The Weave Hut.
“It's not about you,” she says, snidely, to all the anonymous greeting-card-receivers out there who have the gall to think that a greeting card is supposed to greet them. “It's about”—Hasselbeck pauses—“you know,” stopping herself before saying that word: the word she realized would sound really, really bad if uttered, the word that explains exactly where these women are coming from. The word is, “me,” as in, “It's not about you; it's about me. Me, me, me, all me, all the time,” and twist my tits if that isn't the best news I've heard in a while. Greeting cards are about the sender? That's fantastic! I can't wait to start mailing out my “Merry Agnostmas” and “Happy Satanukkah” cards. And to think I was going to throw away my “Jesus is the Reason for the Weasels” greetings. And shouldn't the same logic be applied to gift giving? Because if that's the case, then I finally know what to buy my mother for Christmas: A bottle of Rumplemintz and the complete original re-mastered Black Sabbath box set, which I know she will enjoy watching me enjoy when I blast it repeatedly during my visit this year.
Are these ladies retarded? If holiday greeting cards are about the sender, why do they all say, “Wishing you...” and “Hope you have...” fer crissake?! What a malignant narcissistic idiot-child you must be to think the greeting cards you send should celebrate you. I can only imagine what those cards will say.
“To the Goldstein family: We are wishing ourselves a merry Christmas and praying that we have a joyous and lucrative new year. As you know, Christmas is about our lord Jesus Christ the Savior, whom you reject, because you're Jewish, so I'm sorry to report that your whole family is going to burn in Hell for eternity. Otherwise, hope all is well. Give our best to the twins. Love, Sherri and Elizabeth of The View.”
Christmas cards are about the sender? What a laugh. It's exactly this sort of self-centered, under-actualized thinking that drives the people who are against the separation of church and state and want the nativity scene on the city hall lawn, prayer in schools and the Ten Commandments posted in courthouses. They think the establishment clause was meant to establish their religion because, as Shepherd and Hasselbeck have demonstrated, it's all about them, and anyone who doesn't like it can stick a straw in the baby Jesus' diaper and suck it.
At one point in the discussion, Shepherd—the flat-Earth-believing, evolution-denying, walking contradiction to natural selection—remarks that she can't understand why anyone would be insulted by her Christmas cards.
“I wouldn't be offended if a friend sent me a Hare Krishna card. I'd just look at it and throw it in the garbage.”
Oh, Sherri, don't you know? It's not about being offended. It's about being thoughtful. That's why you would throw the Hare Krishna card in the garbage, because the person who sent it wasn't thinking about you, they were thinking about themselves. So, ask yourself, shouldn't all the Jews, Muslims, Buddhists and secularists to whom you sent Christmas cards throw those cards in the garbage as well? Not that they would. Friends don't throw friends' greeting cards in the trash. I know if we were pals and you sent me one of your drippy Jesus Christ is Lord, Hark the Herald Angels Vomit-type cards, I certainly wouldn't be offended, nor would I throw it out. I would just think to myself, What a self-important infant you are and place it on the mantelpiece, upside-down, beside my copy of the Necronomicon and set of human-sacrifice knives.
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