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One reads this book and one can only say, "Palin!"

Finally! At long last someone has said what has needed to be said. One brave soul has trumpeted it from the rooftops. Forget about the Iraq War with their hundreds of thousands of innocents dead. Remove your mind from worrisome drone strikes hitting children and families in Afghanistan. Our returning soldiers--battered, maimed, wounded in every human way possible, and now, most likely jobless, could not have returned from a more glorious conflict than the War on Christmas. This annual melee, swift on the heels of the Satanic orgy of demon-worship and candy corn that is Halloween, should be front and center on the radar of every God-loving, red-blooded American. While women line up for their holiday abortions and those godless gays don their stylish gay apparel, Mrs. Palin has reminded us that the fight for Christmas is the fight for our very souls. As the Pilgrims exchanged gifts with the Indians, as Paul Revere rode up and down that night to warn us of the British plans to take our guns and Christmas trees, and as Ronald Reagan reminded the Soviets when he said, "Mr. Gorbachev, it's 'Merry Christmas!", so we must take a stand against the liberazis who intend to topple the entire edifice of Western Civilization through their insistence on wishing one and all a "Happy Holiday." Being a Christian nation, the celebration of the Divine Child born in Bethlehem that cold, snowy night is the cornerstone of our republic and our society--certainly not the anti-family liberal aggrandizement of unwed teenage mothers or families with two dads. In concise, two-syllable words and plenty of illustrations, Mrs. Palin calls us to battle, Constitution in hand, Bible in the other, and the Declaration of Independence in the other against the forces that would steal our Christmases and in doing so, return to the greater, snow-white America that we love. Mrs. Palin, I doff my tri-cornered hat to you and humbly lay my godless degrees in Bible, history, and theology at your Alaskan feet!

5.0 out of 5 stars
There really is another War on Christmas coming soon!

Having lost my left eye in the First War on Christmas, it takes me a while to get through books. It took me even longer than normal to get through this one, however, because of the post traumatic stress disorder and flashbacks that it inspired. Picture yourself in my shoes, there on the battlefields of the Paramus Mall, the mist rising off the fields that but days before were fertile farmland, now smoldering in the aftermath of egg nog bombs and fruitcake.



What's that sound? Incoming peppermint strike! The second one this morning. I dive underneath the nearest open sleigh just as the gingerbread mortars rained hellfire down on me and my platoon. Sons of bitches! The psy-ops teams are playing that godless Rudolph song through our comms radios. Damn you, Saturnalia! A gingerbread hits my buddy Ricky just to my right and he drops in a quivering heap. Riiiiiiiiky! NooooooO!



I peek out behind the bough of a douglas fir and there.... I see it. Do you see it? Approaching on the horizon and rising out of the mist. So this is how it ends, eh, Claus? This is how you want to play? Fine. I can take so much, but I'm not going to die here on a frosted field, lights twinkling above me, without a final fight. I grab my tube of wrapping paper and charge out from my hiding spot, and a white-hot sensation rips through my skull. The tinsel! The tinsel! Arrrrrgh.



Sorry.... need to focus on the here and now. For those of you who say there's no war on Christmas, I can only say that you don't know... you can't know... unless you were there. For those of us who survived, though broken and emptied of our humanity, it was all too real.

5.0 out of 5 stars
Is the Pope Catholic? Not according to Sister Sarah.

It's my favorite time of year again! It comes earlier every year and grows in strength every time. Is it Thanksgiving? No. Christmas? Closer.



It's the War on Christmas, that festive time of year when we reflect on the true meaning of making sure other people know there is a war against Christmas.



What would you say is the greatest threat to the greatest of holidays Jesus gave to us? Is it over-commercialisation, which Charlie Brown was complaining about back in the '60s? Or the fact that Christmas shopping next year will start just after St. Patrick's Day? Or just the general un-Christmas like behavior of people fighting for parking spaces and hot new toys at the mall while ignoring their families at home?



If you answered any of the above three, you're probably one of those godless liberals who need this book. No my friend, the answer of course is those atheists, bah-humbuging this joyous time for all of us and trying to take it back to the Roman Saturnalia, where men would give each other gifts, drink and fornicate with each other. Wouldn't those sodomites forcing equal marriage on us love that?



Sarah Palin, truly the voice of our grandparent's generation, bravely sets out to right this wrong. Christmas isn't about sharing the holiday quietly with your family. It's about shoving it down the throats of people who don't believe (or don't believe hard enough), and creating animosity and fear so we get rid of those people stopping us from spreading a holiday about peace and good will to all men.



This is a book necessary for this day and age, not just a cheap cash-in that can be rolled out every holiday until consistency=tradition. I will share this book with my loved years every year, and keep it prominently on my shelf right next to my copy of Ayn Rand's It's a Wonderful Life, where Mr. Potter is praised for his cleverness, and Clarence lets George kill himself for creating a culture of dependency.