I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones my grandparents used to know. I know I’m not the only one.
This Christmas season, many traditional Christians will be reminiscing of times we ourselves never knew. Many of us Gen X and Millennial Christians are too young to have known what it was like to walk down the street and have a snowball fight with our neighbors without fear of cops getting involved or tribal affiliations getting invoked. We never knew the American Christmases that the movies of our parents’ generation ridiculed in A Christmas Story and National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. We grew up in ironic and post-ironic America where everything was criticized and nothing held sacred, not even the Christ Child. We are accustomed to seeing Piss Christ funded by federal dollars and displayed for taxpayers to see. We are used to pundits raving about a Curb Your Enthusiasm episode in which (((Larry David))) urinates on a painting of Jesus in a restroom. Our America is the one in which consumerism, pornographic secular holiday specials, NBA basketball, and long lines at the returns desk on December 26 mark the Christmas season.
We are basically the Home Alone generation. (BEWARE: SPOILERS) We are the kid who got left behind — forgotten — while the rest of the global population raced to its next globalist, consumerist, godless destination. Unlike the famous Macaulay Culkin movie, though, there is no mom or dad who is going to remember us and save us. There is no loving matriarch of the family who will risk life and limb to undo a terrible wrong she and our other relatives knew better than to commit against us. We are the forgotten people, a nation and race of disposable, fungible, and even deplorable people.
Like the hero of that movie, we will have to fend for ourselves. Many members of our movement share in common the experience of moving through the same stages of enlightenment which Kevin McCallister went through. First we were just disoriented. Kevin had gone to bed one night and expected to be awakened by his family en route to their family vacation in France. However, the rest of the family abandoned Kevin. He woke up befuddled as to where everyone was. Similarly, in life we realize that we are alone, even when we are in a crowd. Far too often, there is no one actually on our side, even those who know better and are obligated to take our side on account of our shared name, blood, or faith.
Kevin had experienced a lot of antagonism at, and from, his relatives. So once he accepted that he was home alone, he got excited. Finally he could do things his way! He jumped on the bed, ate the ice cream, watched the movies he had never been allowed to watch. Many of our recently-awakened people indulge themselves when they realize that they are not morally beholden to the world system’s politically correct rules. For a season they do all they can to thumb their noses at feminism, multiculturalism, pacifism, and cuckolded religion.
However, that season comes to an end. Like Kevin, we find out that life is more than rebellion against a degenerate system. Then comes the real work, like learning how to provide for ourselves, hold ourselves with dignity, and interact with other people in a way that will result in mutually satisfactory relationships. For Kevin that meant going to the grocery store, learning how to cook, and transforming from a kid who never wanted to bathe into a young man who took pride in his appearance and odor.
At the same time as these things happen, we grow in our awareness of the threats around us. Like Kevin, we often tried to avoid these threats, or reason with them, but to our dismay found that they persisted in pursuing their conquest over us and our ancestral home. Therefore, like Kevin we are forced into a decisive confrontation with those threats. We use whatever we have at our disposal — in Kevin’s case it was a BB rifle, paint cans on ropes, strategically placed nails and tar, various power tools, a nasty tarantula, and more. We don’t have all the money, power, or connections of our enemies. But then again, neither did Kevin. And Kevin won.
To avoid spoiling the ending I won’t go into more detail. If you haven’t seen Home Alone, it’s a pretty family-friendly, clean movie (minus a few expletives), centers on cartoonish violence rather than real peril, and requires little fast-forwarding for kids to watch. Home Alone 2: Lost in New York is another good story and isn’t too bad for family viewing, either.
The most important difference between us and Kevin is that we have no 1980s suburban America to come home to. What remains of that world is disappearing thanks to things like federal housing policy and the federal government’s resettlement of Third Worlders in hamlets far and wide, from Maine to Iowa to Montana. Our mom is not going to jump in a box truck with a polka band to come save us. (That may sound weird but in the movie it’s very wholesome, trust me.) Our mom Lady Liberty is either dead or too preoccupied nurturing our adopted Somali “brother” to care about us. She has no interest in what our “brother” is doing to our biological sister, or the fact that we will never have a home of our own unless some big changes take place.
We are Kevin McCallister. If we want a white Christmas for ourselves or our posterity, we are going to have to win this battle ourselves. Just like Kevin in Home Alone, we have God on our side. Like Kevin, the Jew and his gentile ally is prowling to rob us of our Christmas joy. Like Kevin, our motivation is ethical, rock-solid, and based on one simple fact. “This is my house. I have to defend it.”
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