Trump Turned Christmas Films Into Horror Ones Or Something

Trump Turned Christmas Films Into Horror Ones Or Something

Teach moonbat

A bit of Trump Derangement Syndrome, aimed at those who voted for him and himself

How Trump Turned Christmas Films into Horror Films

My family was never into Christmas. We were just too African to really feel it. Christmas is a feeling. The gifts, the trees, the little lights, the stockings, the carols were all a big bother without this feeling. For my family, Christmas was a time to go to a loud bar, drink heavily, wake up late the next morning with a hangover, and have a big brunch with the hair of the dog. When I relocated to the United States, married, and had kids, my African Christmas came to an end. I was now an American with an American family and American relatives who, like all Americans, were super into the day that celebrated the birth of a man who claimed to be the son of the man who created the whole universe.

You can feel the derision for our way of celebrating Christmas, can you not, and for America? Typical Democrat. And typical that the writer, Charles Mudede, decides to slam small town America

My kids particularly love a house in Kelso that’s across the street from a gas station. A sheriff lives there, and his entire garden is covered with shimmering lights and ornaments. There is a glowing Santa by the home’s front door, a glowing overgrown elf near the side of the garage, a glowing snowman by a pine tree, and the star of Bethlehem on top of that tree.

Sounds nice, this little town well to the north of Portland, where Mr. Mudede lives. Of course not!

Kelso is in Cowlitz County, and like all of the other rural and small-town counties in Washington State, it voted for Donald Trump by a considerable margin (17.1 percent). But when someone made a cardboard sign that directly quoted Trump’s line “Grab them by the pussy,” Kelso made its police department take it down. The sign, made by a local resident and intended to “start a conversation,” was deemed offensive by a number of upstanding Kelso citizens—it was posted less than 500 feet away from a school (think of the children) and violated the city code of disorderly conduct by encouraging sexual assault. And yet these people voted for Trump. What’s wrong with Kelso? Was the town under some evil spell? How could all these fine Americans, so passionate about the birth of Jesus Christ, overcome their repulsion for Trump’s very own words and make him their leader?

How could Democrats want to make Hillary Clinton, with her graft, her lies, her violations of the law, and her defense of her husband’s sexual assault and rape of women, president?

It’s like a horror movie, the kind that takes place in a classically American small town. The people are friendly and satisfied with their quiet, normal way of life. But you can’t help feeling there is something that’s not quite right. While walking down the town’s main street one night, a person, usually a woman with frightened eyes, pulls you into an alley and warns you to get out of town before it is too late. You ask her to explain herself. But just as she is about to provide an answer, the sheriff with the Christmas lights appears out of nowhere and asks if everything is fine. The woman hurries off with her head down, and you are left looking after her and back at the sheriff with confusion, and then the strangely smiling sheriff offers to give you a ride back to your motel at the edge of town.

Mr. Mudede continues his oh-so-typical liberal derision of small town America for a bit more, before ending with

We’re now living in a world where the people of Bedford Falls have sided with nasty old Mr. Potter. Instead of banding together to bail George Bailey out of a jam with their nickels and dimes, they’ve formed a lynch mob to string him up. Donald Trump has made Christmas movies into horror movies for anyone not born into the comforting illusions of white, small-town America.

This Christmas, I’m going to revert to my African ways. I will go to a Portland bar on Christmas Eve, drink until last call, wake up late in the afternoon (spent wrapping paper of long opened presents on the floor or in the bins), eat something heavy with the hair of the dog, and, on the return trip to Seattle, not stop in Kelso or any other small town. I never want to see the horror of Christmas lights in rural America again.

And Democrats wonder why they are losing. Even those who live in small town America who might agree on policy understand that Democrats hate small town folks, that they hate those in “flyover” country, what some call “Jesusland” and “Dumbfuckistan”, and are checking out. Perhaps they didn’t vote Trump, but, they surely didn’t vote for Hillary, nor for Democrats in general.

Crossed at Pirate’s Cove. Follow me on Twitter @WilliamTeach.

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