Well almost, please, allow me one, out-of-season, rant, sentence. I ain't gonna do it, I refuse to do it, and not because it shouldn't be done, of course, someone should write a bitter denunciation of Jared Taylor and his Rabbis, of course, the Council of Conservative Citizens is long overdue for a change of leadership and direction, (attention Gordo), of course, these multiple, the Laud in haben only knows how many, 'immigration clubs' should be exposed for their failure to accomplish anything, of course, Sam Francis shouldn't be featured in the Spotlight, of course, Pat Buchanan should have his mouth washed out with home- made-hog-fat soap for using the oxymoronic term "Judeo- Christian," of course, so-called Revisionist and self- worshipping writers, who expend all their energies trying to convince us that they are number one, should be reviled, of course, John Rocker and the South should never ask forgiveness at the point of a Yankee, politically correct, bayonet, of course, we Southerners will never sign the new 'loyalty oath' but we will interject all manner of pre-emptive onslaughts against Ted and Jane before Teddy does his less than Brave thing, of course, I want to and will write about all these scalawags, carpetbaggers, and their inanities, and more, but not tonight. It's Christmas and the tender arms, the bright smiles, the shinning , hopeful eyes, and the angelic laughter of my granddaughters have mellowed this old curmudgeon. Yesterday, the phone rang and the party hung up, so, I said, "Somebody answer that if it rings again, they hung up on me." Halle said, "they hung up on you, Paw Paw, because you're loud and don't know how to behave." She is five. Luna, who is two, had two figurines, little plaster angels, she said, "This one is Halwee and this one is Lwuna." I took them and said "This one is Luna and this one is Paw Paw." "No, no," she snapped, "you are no angel, Paw Paw." Well, angel or no, I am determined to continue to talk straight, continue to commit CIVIL DISOBEDIENCE, overtly, and what I do covertly, only me and G-d will ever know. Why? Simple, because of tender arms, bright smiles, shinning , trusting, hopeful eyes, and angelic laughter. To me friends, here at home and around the world, to those who have helped me in this struggle, to that blue-haired, little, stooped Christian Lady, who pulls my arm at the store and says, "Jim I'm still praying for you," thank you all and to you all a Merry Christ Mass. Jim.
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