TREES!
An editorial by Lennie

Is this how Christmas ends? Probably.
Bob Dylan once famously said, “We will bury you without firing a single shot.”
He was, of course, talking to his archrival, Mickey Dolenz of the Monkees. And Dylan was right, for he went to become rock music’s most celebrated songwriter, while the Monkees are (barely) remembered for a couple of late 1960s bubble-gum pop songs and a lame, short-lived TV show.
Dylan’s point was that wars are not won with bombs and bullets. They are won by changing hearts and minds. And that’s exactly how our enemies are fighting a war we cannot afford to lose.
I’m talking about the War on Christmas. Although you probably knew that already, having read the headline. Damn you, headline.
There are many fronts on the War on Christmas. You’ll have to watch Bill O’Reilly to find out what they are, because I forget. But the most insidious enemy of all is one we’ve long believed to be our friend. I’m talking about The Tree. (But you knew that already too, again because of the headline. Why are editorials so hard?)
We think of our green, pointy-topped brothers as so innocent and naïve. And perhaps they were… before the Arbor Day cultists recruited them for their nefarious, Christmas-hating ambitions. Don’t look now America, but trees have found their way into our shopping malls, our car dealerships, our offices, and even our homes. They’ve prettied themselves up like cheap tarts, with their blinking lights and their shiny baubles, luring you in like a fly to a rotting fruit salad. You, an idiot who is dazzled by all that sparkles and tinsels. You water it. You gaze up at it. You worship it.
Maybe I need to remind you of the second amendment of the Declaration of Independence: Thou Shall Not Worship False Idols.
With that in mind, I call upon the two most holy figures in all Christendom, Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, to join forces and stamp out false idols once and for all.
Santa, if you are reading this, I know we agree there is only one God, so please, use your unlimited supernatural powers to wipe out the arborealists who think otherwise. When you come down that chimney with your bag of gifts, destroy the foul tempter you find waiting for you in at the bottom. As for the people, snug in their beds, tired from a long day of consorting with the green devil… you must slay them. Kill them as they slumber! It’s the only way to save Christmas.
No one knows why the trees have decided to infiltrate the world of humans. Maybe it’s revenge for all the furniture. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that they have infiltrated and that we have to fight back. Humans must not go gently into the endless night!
Weep not for the forest fire. Sure, it sucks for the little woodland creatures, but all wars have collateral damage.
Disclaimer: As far as I can tell, deciduous trees are perfectly innocent in all this. I’d hate for you to get all riled up and chop down a maple tree in your yard because of what I wrote. If I didn’t make myself clear… it’s the Pines.
About the writer: Lennie is so unlikeable, his orphanage once put him in a basket and left him on the front steps of an unwed teenage mother’s house.
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