As America’s foremost embedded reporter in the current War on Christmas, I am sending this encrypted message to you from the front lines: Macy’s.

Dear Soldiers for the Baby Jesus:

Once again, pagan combatants, wielding verbal grenades made of non-specific cheer, are on a militant rampage to retake the Winter Solstice, a holiday invaded and occupied by Christians over 1,700 years ago. 

Friends, we stole December fair and square — and are going to stay the coarse ones in turning a season devoted to love and joy into an vitriolic turf war all about us!

The first shopping skirmish of the season occurred when my Personal Shopper spotted secular insurgents maraudering behind the Estee Lauder counter.  I personally overheard several of these “Happy Holidays” extremists, uniformed in the Lauder infantry’s blue, paramilitary smocks, boldly declare a jihad on the Baby Jesus’ birthday.  As I feigned interest in an egregiously harloty shade of bright red lipstick, I overheard the make-up militia chant such bellicose, Christmas-hating greetings as “Have a wonderful holiday!” to civilian shoppers.  They also brandished IEDs (introductory exfoliating devices) to Christian foundation buyers, Bible-believing bargain hunters simply looking for a Christmas gift that came free with a $35 purchase.

Moments later, bell-ringing infantry from the Salvation Army were called in to drown out the battle cries of “Ho! Ho! Ho!” from a sidewalk Santa. This invasion appears to have been based on faulty intelligence as it turns out that the Santa bellowing “Ho! Ho! Ho!” was merely greeting Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton and Britney Spears as they drunkenly stumbled out of Neiman-Marcus. Before Baptist mercenaries realized this mistake, angry Pentecostal militia had already rounded up striped-stockinged enemy combatants (pint-sized operatives calling themselves “elves”).  They were wrestled to the ground just outside of their bunker, a Styrofoam gingerbread house in Bloomingdale’s window.

Yes, friends, this year’s War on Christmas has been the most angry and dangerous yet.  Several shoppers’ eyes were taken out as called-up shopoholic reservists from Landover Baptist Church carpet bombed mall parking lots with “Jesus is the Reason for 40% Off Selected Merchandise” Bible tracts.

Bill O’Reilly and I undertook a reconnaissance mission to undercover anti-Christmas propaganda militants.  Holiday hostilities began after I resourcefully used a “Noel” candle from Pottery Barn (which Bill mistook for a candy-striped pagan tribute to Jeb Bush’s crackwhore daughter) to ignite an appalling “Peace on Earth” banner dangling just outside a notorious secular stronghold called Sephora.  As Bill jumped up and down on the flaming banner, he screamed at frightened eye-shadow and fragrance browsers, “Peace on earth?  You can take your anti-troops, anti-Bush, pinko pacifistic agitprop and shove it right up your –”

Fortunately, a resourceful spritz of “Hillary Duff with Love” Eau de Parfum Spray not only prevented Bill from completing his proctologic entreaty, it also caused so much collateral damage to bystander shoppers that “Hillary Duff with Love” has replaced Polonium-210 as my favorite disabling spray during our current campaign to retake the fur department at Saks for Jesus.

As all of you arm yourselves for CHRISTmas shopping this season, know that your comrade-in-arms, Mrs. Betty Bowers, is with you in the AMEX-accepting trenches.  Your Commander-in-Cashmere wishes all of you a joyous Baby Jesus Day and asks you to remain vigilant against secular uprisings, such as shockingly rude cards that wish so-called “nice” things without pandering to your particular brand of faith.  And a special word of warning to you lady shoppers out there: Watch out for Pastor’s notoriously inaccurate missile-toe!

So Close To Jesus, I Still Haven’t Forgiven Him For Stretching Out Last Christmas’s Lovely Elie Tahari Paulo Sweater By Allowing The Entire Trinity To Try It On All At Once,

Mrs. Betty Bowers

America’s Best Christian

A NOTE FROM BETTY: Allow me to introduce Prophetess Debbie, who goes to my church, Landover Baptist. Frankly, I became so utterly vexed with my Savior (and that dreadful hick from Alaska) pestering me while I shopped at Neiman-Marcus (it was nothing short of salvation stalking!), I hired Prophetess Debbie to act as a go-between, at least until I’ve finished my holiday shopping. In this way, I will treat my Debbie as the Catholics treat their Mary, as a glorified gofer to take messages to the Lord. A word of warning: Prophetess Debbie tends to speak with unseemly candor. She fails to couch her Republican thoughts in the politically correct, focus-group tested phrases that more sophisticated, savvy right-wing Christians — me! — instinctively employ. In other words, she says thing publicly that are best left behind thick church doors. But please bear with me: There really isn’t a wide selection when it comes to Baptist prophetesses this late in the season!

Hey, you all! Now, darling, I know, in the wake of that sad little election we just had us, this is a time when our country is rightfully resentful of the usurpation of godly-ordained Republican power by Satan’s stooge, the Anti-Christ Barrack Hussein Muhammad Ali Baba Obama. In such a stressful (end) time, it is easy to concentrate on all the bad things dark people do. I would join you, but I simply don’t have that kind of time. But, good gravy, I’m not trying to stop you all from that very healthy, cathartic, truly Republican undertaking.

Instead, what I would like to do is to provide a little balance. You see, the Lord Jesus came to me while I was in the powder room at The Olive Garden (which, I assume, he confused for the Garden of Olives), and He reminded me that people “of color” are not always off color and are surprisingly capable of moments of Christian righteousness.  My stars, He made them sound almost like real, actual Christians!  LOL!!!!!

For example, Proposition 8, banning so-called “gay marriage” in California only passed thanks to the overwhelming support of colored Californians. The sad truth is that, if left to white people, homos in that state would still be free to pretend to be joined in their disgusting “marriages,” the very thought of which make me want to vomit up countless garlicky breadsticks.

To be honest, I was worried that, due to their supposed struggles (dear Lord, when will ever hear the end of that?), Negroes would be more susceptible to choosing so-called “civil rights” over Jewish law. (And, between us chickens, I was also a tish concerned that they would realize that scrupulously enforcing the rules of the Old Testament would open the door to going back to giving the Lord’s helpful hints on beating your slaves in Exodus another go!) Fortunately, I found that most Blacks (or whatever it is they like to be called this week! LOL!) are apt to only fuss over their own so-called “civil rights” and were happy to squash the so-called civil rights of homos, as Jesus would have commanded, had He gotten around to remembering how much He loathes them and everything!

So join me and Jesus in saying, “Thank you, you darling, precious people of colors for giving the homos what for!  But, just so we are clear: This still doesn’t make us even on the whole black president thing. OK?” 

Meet Tonya Jenkins. She died of shock this morning. You see, the poor thing had spent the past two years getting all of her information from Sean Hannity. She would then go to her favorite website, Free Republic, and read thousands and thousands and thousands of vitriolic posts, all containing no facts inconsistent with Mr. Hannity’s and no opinions that caused Tonya to rethink her own.  

Tonya went to bed last night with a tumbler of cold tequila and a head full of comfy knowledge. She knew that the Lord Jesus would answer her prayer to never let no colored Muslim communist terrorist be no durn president. She was certain she would wake up to find that sassy Sarah Palin and her running mate, a wonderfully mavericky war hero, had been elected instead. In her Christian heart, Tonya was confident that Americans were every bit as racist as Republicans hoped they’d turn out to be, as the much discussed, posted about and wished for “Bradley Effect” would work its reactionary magic at the polls. 

But this morning at work, Tonya got sloppy. Maybe she was tired. Maybe just a bit hungover. Whatever the cause for her lapse, she became infected by the Liberal Elite Mainstream Media. As she carelessly bused her table, she inadvertently glanced at a New York Times a suspiciously informed dinner had mischievously left behind. Sensing danger, she tried to look away, but it was too late. She’d already read the headline. Before she could blindfold herself with the rag she was using to wipe the table and repeat her “la la la la MR. FACTS I DON’T HEAR YOU!  la la ” incantation, inconvenient information had already burrowed into her head like anthrax spores. Poor Tonya’s bitter heart just couldn’t take the shock: The America of FoxNews and her favorite right wing website wasn’t the America she was walking and breathing in. Before I could call out “But Florida and California still hate the homos!” to revive her, she was gone.

With the delicious news that the GOP spent $150,000 to play dress-up Caribou Barbie and that Governor Palin likes to stay at the $700/night Essex House (in, mind you, notoriously not so “pro-America” New York City) for four nights to attend one-day seminar on the taxpayers’ dime, I am realizing that when it comes to spreading the wealth around, Sarah Palin can always be counted upon to have her palm wide open.

Let’s think . . . a fascist misrepresenting her background, spouting lies and nonsense while being repackaged for the benefit of the little people? Who does that remind you of? Oh, I know! I think it’s time for an updated production of Evita! It helps if you picture a chorus of self-conscious, pasty males in Brooks Brothers suits and felt elephant trunk baseball caps. 

 GOP DRESSERS:

Eyes! Hair! Mouth! Glasses! Dress! Strut! Smirk! Slander!

Per Diem! Winks! Glamour! Face! Fibs! Excitement! Image!

SARAH “EVITA” PALIN:

Did you hear ‘bout the coats and handbags I took?

Poor people, I want your votes, but not your look!

My tresses? From the GOP, saucy and slattern

New dresses? I now get for free, not from a pattern!

Do you think I fill hangars with men ‘cause I’m bright?

No, they just want to screw me!

So open toe shoe me!

Make my skirts short and tight!

Throw out my frayed jeans and parkas!

I look like a hick

So have Cindy pick

A de la Renta from Neiman Marcus! 

TUCKER BOUNDS:

Stale platitudes, yadda yadda, by rote

Sound much fresher in a Prada fur coat!

CINDY McCAIN:

And nothing works with deceitful attacks

Quite like an Armani silk suit from Saks!

SARAH “EVITA” PALIN:

Yes, Joe Plummer, it’s hard to care ‘bout your sticky tax bracket

When I just spent your monthly wage on a kicky Saks jacket!

And Joe Six Pack, I’d know your pain if only I read the news!

And you’d know mine if Cindy McCain chose all your shoes!

Please read the marvelous take on “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina” written by Mrs. Bowers’ divine acolyte Fama Keen: Read the rest of this entry »

This past week, Sarah Palin told a rally that she “loves visiting pro-America parts of the country.” She probably said this as some Americans might say, “I love visiting the Amalfi Coast.” It is, after all, always fun to go to a place with a different culture than the one back home.

Truly, the novelty of being in a “pro-America” state must be thrilling for Sarah. After all, she and the First Dude are used palling around with the Alaska Independence Party, which was founded by Joe Vogler.

Joe Vogler was wont to say things that might strike even the most wanly patriotic as somewhat shy of “pro-America.” For example: “The fires of hell are frozen glaciers compared to my hatred for the American government. And I won’t be buried under their damn flag. I’ll be buried in Dawson. And when Alaska is an independent nation they can bring my bones home.”

So you can see why being in places that are “pro-America” would be as new and different as a tropical breeze to wide-eyed Sarah Palin!

WARNING: Viewing this video can cause people with even negligible intelligence and civility to experience an overdose of self-respect.

My dear friend Janet L. Folger at Faith2Action called me last night. As usual, she was furious — and drunk. Two of Fred Phelps‘ loud and vulgar relatives have been invited to speak at a debate about Amendment 2 (against so-called “gay” marriage) in Florida.

As America’s Best Christian, I have devoted my life — and your generous tithes — to adding a glossy, coy sheen to the message that Jesus hates people who are not exactly like me in every respect.

I join Faith2Action in being appalled that those odious Phelps Sisters (not to be confused with the charmingly limber duo who juggled Fiesta® Ware while licking their own ankles in chiffon on the Lawrence Welk show) have been invited to Florida to rant and froth about Amendment 2. As a deliciously naughty Jesus is wont to remark, “Those gals are a pair of braying bumpkins no longer on speaking terms with mental health — or mirrors!” And, in contradistinction to me, Faith2Action, and Focus on Wringing Cash from Families, et al., these dowdy gargoyles lack the sophistication to couch their livid distaste for others in a more careful, media-friendly manner.

As founder of the world’s most profitable ex-gay ministry, BASH (Baptists Are Saving Homosexuals), I must support Amendment 2. After all, anything that can denigrate and delegitimize the hobby of being a homosexual, can only lead to less gays feeling secure and happy and, therefore, more likely to tithe at one of my many BASH franchises! (Look for my new BASH kiosk in Coral Gables!) Besides, since evangelical Christians have the highest divorce rates in the country (even higher than those dreadful Mary-Worshipers or hellbound atheists!), it behooves us to do everything possible to make sure that the gays don’t show us up by having happy, long marriages!

But I think the Phelps sisters have clearly gone several steps too far in their zeal for ostracizing homosexuals from their lives. One look at their bought-off-a-pegboard make-up, permed-over-a-kitchen-sink hair and unfortunate “House of Polygamist Compound” couture, it is clear that the one thing these gals need more than no gay marriages is a battalion of gay stylists!

So close to Jesus, I’ve seen the Polaroid of Fred that Drove the Phelps Sisters to Crazyville,

Mrs. Betty Bowers

Unretouched photo of John McCain at the end of last night’s debate, apparently possessed by demons!

Last night, we saw what happens when you have perpetually peeved fans given to screaming insults and slander. And, no, I’m not talking about the fools who paid money to see Janet Jackson lip-synch, only to find out at the last minute Miss Jackson went on a nasty bender and cancelled the concert. Well, on second thought, maybe she had the right idea. In sad contrast, John McCain would have been wise to cancel, too. Instead, he went on his nasty bender on air!

Under increasing goading from his bloodthirsty and increasingly frenzied “base,” McCain was determined to go on the attack. He played offense, but it played out as offensive. That is because it is dangerous for McCain to tap into his reservoirs of sarcastic anger. That unreserved reserve may be as flammable as our nation’s natural gas, but McCain’s reserves don’t appear to be finite. If only we had the technology to tap this angry energy, we could go back to driving Hummers!

By most accounts, McCain is a nasty piece of work, short tempered, rude and, more than his poseur “pit bull” running mate, close enough to the genuine article that any lipstick would go unnoticed. With his split-screen snarls, he may have thrown some red meat to the his base, clamoring for insults and rudeness. But the problem with acting like those people is that they scare most Americans.

What Would Joe the Plumber Do?

Let’s be honest, the smarmy, canned, patronizing references to “Joe the Plumber” were just irritating. But nevertheless rather telling. Notice how McCain sarcastically sneered, “Congratulations, Joe, you’re rich!”? McCain’s mocking was rooted in a big-time gigolo’s distain for the notion that anyone making $250,000 could be thought of as “rich.” Most Americans might feel otherwise. But, then again, they don’t spend that amount annually on servants, as do John and his android wife. What’s funny is that someone can gain notoriety as “Joe the Plumber” when he isn’t even a licensed plumber.   But he is, however, skinhead enough to make a “tap dances like Sammy Davis, Jr.” remark about Barrack Obama. Oh, dear. No wonder McCain plucked Joe out from all of America for some unseemly pandering! Joe sounds like John’s base!

Join me, won’t you?  Meet John McCain’s base: 

 

I’m fascinated by the rebranding of products that goes on in this ever-resourceful, credulous, crumbling America of ours.  John McCain, a selfish, spoiled, name-dropping chatterbox, who simply couldn’t stop yapping to the North Vietnamese, is rebranded a selfless hero.  Sarah Palin, a lying pathological narcissist, is improbably rebranded as, well, sane. And Barrack Obama, someone who made his start being kind to the poor, is rebranded an anti-Jesus terrorist!  Well, honestly, if we Republicans can successfully rebrand Jesus himself as a bellicose materialist, is anyone truly safe from an inventive Madison Avenue make-over?

What is most entertaining about John McCain and Sarah Palin is that they don’t wait for someone else to rebrand them; they are too busy marketing themselves. And they prefer their slogans as vivid as they are simple.  Barracuda!  Hero!  Pit-bull! Maverick!  It’s a conceited — and cynical — undertaking. It is also a patronizing acknowledgement of a rather base base, which prefers a good story to a real one.

In the desperate throes of ineptitude and the toxic backwash of the frenzied hatred and racism they have coyly set in motion, Palin/McCain [sic.] have turned their hobby of repackaging on their opponent. And it’s getting rather uncomfortable to watch.  And if you think what they say in public is unseemly and shocking, just wait until you see the stuff they didn’t release, on an exclusive copy of their campaign attack ad bloopers: