04172014Headline:

Sarah Palin Christmas Book an Intellectual Journey

Sarah Plain and Tall(National Report) – Sarah Palin is one smart Christmas cookie, a sugar-coated petard thrown into the War on Christmas.

“Good Tidings and Great Joy: Protecting the Heart of Christmas”, by the erudite Grizzly Mom is a masterwork worthy of a Booker Prize or Oprah’s reading list. It is surprising the paperback does not include some kind of embossed sticker of significance, or a Papal book review.

According to one 5 star Amazon reviewer, Palin’s work is not for the faint of brain. Described as a “challenging read, but worth the effort.” The same reviewer adds:

“With dictionary in hand, I plunged into the sweet abyss that is this tome. Not since Sartre has one done more for Christianity. I can’t say I understood all of it (especially the section on epistemology), but I eagerly await its companion study guide. Good recipes too.”

Who hasn’t received grainy Christmas fudge from a dicey co-worker? The Governor tackles this issue with the same gusto she twitters the smack down upon her attackers. With “Good Tidings and Great Joy” Palin delivers a one-two punch in the O’ Tannenbaum with sassy one liners and her patented aplomb.

Nothing says Christmas like this cheerful sweater. Liberals would probably have this outlawed under ObamaCare.

Nothing says Christmas like this cheerful sweater. Liberals would probably have this outlawed under ObamaCare.

“This war on Christmas is really the tip of the spear when it comes to a greater battle that’s brewing,” Palin told CBN News. “And that battle that’s brewing is those who would want to take God out of our society, out of our culture, which will lead to ruin as history has proven.”

Christmas is the Christian celebration of the humble birth of Jesus Christ. Mary, 15 and pregnant, rode her fiancé’s ass to Bethlehem so she could anchor-baby her child as a Roman citizen, as required by tax laws of the day. Mary was engaged, but never married Joseph, classifying her as a single (Jewish) mom. Unable to get a room, Mary gave birth in a stable, wrapping the newborn in rags for warmth – or so the liberals would have us believe.

This liberal and scripturally dubious interpretation, along with the “Happy Holidays” notion that Jesus is anchored to humanity rather than Constitutionally conservative principals of lower taxes, limited immigration, corporate welfare and personal fiscal responsibility that cuts food stamps, WIC and help for the poor, is ruining America.

Every time someone says “Happy Holidays” they are disrespecting Christ, firing another shot across the bow in the War on Christmas by even suggesting that other faiths exist in our society. America is a Christian nation, founded by Deists who had a wholly Christian society in mind.

Governor Palin has intellectually been hoisted  by her own petard with “Good Tidings and Great Joy: Protecting the Heart of Christmas”, perhaps liberals can learn to do the same and put an end to “Happy Holidays”.

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9 Responses to "Sarah Palin Christmas Book an Intellectual Journey"

  1. Real Christian Patriot says:

    God I hope the runs for office. We need a major heavyweight who can break the witchy curse of Hillary on this nation! Of course, she’ll need a strong man to run with her, but Arnold won’t return my phone calls.

  2. If there were a “War on Christmas” it would look very different than the simple attempts at inclusiveness and challenging of privilege which right-wing Christians choose to perceive as persecution.

    http://www.waronxmas.info

    • Saying “Happy Holidays” usurps the politics from the conversation, BOD.

      What Palin and many conservatives feel they are being throttled by a jackbooted notion of the Christmas season that demands complete obedience to a secular vision of America. The only reasonable thing to do is throttle a jackbooted notion that “Merry Christmas” is the proper greeting. This may seem like an Edward/Jacob Twi-hard fight, but trust me, the folks on the fighting end are not sparkling.

  3. Zeke Gobfitz says:

    We need to get back to the way things used to be before Alan Alda,i prefer Merry Krampusnacht!

  4. lillian fabricant lillian fabricant says:

    Thanks for the terrific, informative review, as usual, Ms. Bagwell! I usually don’t bother buying books after you review them, because there are SO MANY extra sentences, too many really, but I’m going to get this one because I want to try Alaskan food at least once, and Ms. Palin must be a super-good cook since she has excelled at everything she has ever quit to do something else instead, WHATEVER it was or is! I hope she shares her recipe for moose lasagna, not because I like italians particularly, but tomatoes is ok in my book.

    My nephew Thommy listens to me read your column out loud in my big train conductress voice, with his head in the sink and the cold water running and his jeans all torn up again, nearly EVERY morning, so he’s a big fan too, probably. He’s the one that got me to thinking about moose lasagna so much…not that he’s ever brought any home, but I get real hungry and a little nervous for some reason whenever he starts talking about how Moose Lasagna is EXACTLY what it looked like, and how damn much of it he was eating last night down at that sailor bar by the docks, The Anchor’s Chain, where, apparently, for some reason you aren’t allowed to use your hands to eat it, just your face.

    He just laughs at me when I try to get him to explain why they won’t let you use a fork, but to young peoples like him I’m just some unhep old cat lady who isn’t up to the jive of today’s twerkys I guess, and he’s probably right. But without Thommy around I’d never be able to change a light bulb in this place, so I put up with him, and all them supertall, big-eyebrowed girlfriends of his stomping around the house, not to mention his all-ages, all hours boy scout troop/ military hiking club thingy what’s always practicing maneuvers soon as the sun sets in the woods back behind the old mattress factory.

    Now, honestly, I don’t want to have to bury my face in a pile of moose lasagna, Barbara, just to find out what it tastes like, not even if it was Sarah Palin’s very own moose lasagna, one that had her fingers in it before it went into the oven. But what DOES sound nice to me is more like a small square of meat and noodles on one of mother’s pretty painted-bouquet, sandwich-sized tea plates, along with the gold-tone silver, on a Pope Francis Placemat, whatever pope really, I don’t keep track of statue-kissing antichrists these days, not since that JFK.

    Oh, anyway, so last night he was eating moose lasagna’s all night at Anchors, like I was saying, and the night before was more of the same at PluckFrat’s Sausage Grill down by the bus depot, which btw is short for Pot Luck Club For Runaways And Travellers. Nobody has the last name of Pluckfrats in these parts anymore, not since Imogen passed. Remember her, from high school, Barbara? Always complaining about her father and uncles tickling her, to anyone who would pretend to listen, 24-7. Then off to paris for a semester, ooh-la-la, and back she comes with a red-headed baby not 6 months later, talk about a fast corruption!

    They must keep half-raised foetuses all over France, in covered bowls in warm places, like above a stove or refrigerator, rising like yeasty bread, just waiting to shove into a nice american girl the moment after she’s stepped off a plane and they’ve crammed a cigarette or 800 down her throat. And that is supposed to be ‘sophistication’, and we are expected to applaud politely? No Thanks, France, no thanks.

    But, anyway, Pot Luck Club etc sounds like chinese food, or something full of some kind of squinty, spicy dirt cabbage, which is the spit-on exact opposite of lasagna if you ask me. No moose would even touch that stuff. Even Thommy won’t get his slobber all over that, and the big lunk’s big ol’ girlfriends with their crazy big hair and make-up and big hands and hairy arms all say he’ll eat anything, usually right before he chases them big-booted gals politely out of my kitchen and upstairs to rearrange the furniture for half an hour or two, That boy ought to be an interior decorator the way he works the furniture in that room. He certainly knows enough of them, always so polite when they drop by, but fainty and terrified at the same time, esp. when Thommy slams a six pack down hard in front of them, and kicks their chair. He’s even friends with dreamy Lindsey Grahams’s nephew! Several of them in fact, so…”Calgon, take me away!”

    Sorry, we was talking about oriental food before I had my little Lindsey hot flash, ha ha. Did you know that you can plant beans in a pile of Bwonnnggg gong food, and they will sprout? Like it’s manure! Fu Man chUREre, Ha ha! Poo Man Chew, tee hee, ok, I’ll stop. PASS, I think, thank you very much anyway. I don’t like fancy chinese food that isn’t from a can, anyway, ever since I ate one of them little shrivelled wrinkly penis peppers the chinese got. That thing had me jumping up and down and running around like a kicked-over chinaman’s ant nest I tell you! I don’t know how Chinese Ladies stand it, or for that matter, recognize which house they live in, there’s just so many of them.

    So many Ms. Palin can probably see them from anywhere she’s up on a chair, I betcha! Get down from there, Lady!, I’d tell her if she did. I never climb on the furniture in heels, can you imagine? With my tin leg? Praise Jesus both of Sarah’s are real, there’s nothing worse than an ugly leg, right? But two? yuck.

    • lillian fabricant lillian fabricant says:

      Just listen to me go on, my lord, I hope you have an ear left! (Gross.) That’s why I hate short hair on ear cancer-surviving women and other women, I guess. Hope all is well with what’s left of YOUR family, ha, ha, we miss you at the office my dear, but we got a really beautiful artificial philodendron plant. Really pretty! So, MERRY CHRISTMAS!

      • Lillian, you are like three day old egg nog, dangerously delicious, yet possibly requiring a visit to the urgent care.

        Why did Mary wrap that baby up in old rags? She had a big family, those Jews know how to make babies, so it is really puzzling that she didn’t get a bunch of hand me downs from a cousin or even have a baby shower. The point is, I think the libruls make a big deal about the poverty aspect of Christ’s birth when the reality is probably not that different from today.

        I don’t know about this new Pope, Daddy says he’s a communist and probably an atheist simply because he seems to genuinely try to love humanity. I personally think that dressing up like the poor and walking among them is creepy. The guy reminds me of Inspector Clouseau, not sure who Kato would be in the Vatican, but I’m sure some of those Swiss guards would do just nicely. Oh and My those young men are easy on the eyes.

        That Lindsay Graham is a hoot and holler! I saw him once in Myrtle Beach, although it could have been Val Kilmer, my glasses were washed to sea when I fell asleep on the beach. (Both Val and the LG have become a little jowly, although Ms. Graham packs her face in kitty litter to ease this genetic sign of aging) Anyway, let’s just say s-p-e-e-d-o and rest assured I could tailor a pair of trousers for the man without any left-right issues, if I had any skills in tailoring.

        I’ve never tried Bwonnnggg gong food, I avoid feng shui, it just seems so impractical worrying about the “money corner” and “fire colors” while not having a toilet or chair to sit in. What is the point of that stuff if you can’t live with it?

        Listen to me waxing all religious. So how are you?

        • Lillian Fabricant Lillian Fabricant says:

          Oh, cancel christmas! I’ve simply refused to Google Mr. Graham not wanting to know if there was a MRS. Graham. Poopers. I bet she’s a real cracker, but she probably has better mobility than I do these days (I just KNOW he’s a chaser!)

          Everything’s just the same as it ever was, since that refrigerator fell on my dang foot two years ago. The good news was the size of my capacious Amana doublewide frontloader, and that it was so well stocked for that apocalypse they made such a fuss over. You’d think that apocalypse was the finale of Lost, or that Battlebot Transgendica thingy with Craterface James Almost, who I usually don’t hate, in it. Well, you can’t hold your breath forever waiting for the end I say, just like our black german maid used to shout at us kids while rolling her eyes comically and untrustworthily during bathtime. The bad news, you can probably guess, was the size and weight of my Amana doublewide frontloader, plus my bright idea to pay the electricity bill 3 years in advance. Well, that choice is actually kind of a win/lose now that I think about it.

          You know dear, the mangery parts of the bible always struck me as revisionist, most of the jews I know stay at tony hotels with lots of gold and marble in the terlets and on the walls, pardon my french. My hunch was Mary was one of them ugly ‘practice’ girls boys get so sweaty over in high school, or sheep camp, whatever it was back then, and poor little Jebus was just another prom night dumpster baby (the timing’s right) Joseph thought he could bundle up real smothery in rags and leave in some old shit shack by the road, bless their low class hearts. Education really is the only answer. But of course those places always get overrun by chinamen and Trayvon Martin types looking to lay low or move some dubious merchandise, so those Jew Honkys had to think quick, as my black german wet nurse used to bark lazily at me back in the day.

          I’m still covering stories for The National Report, and I’ve gotten a lot better at typing with my extra-long typing wands that just reach my desk in the old sewing room where my Commodore is set up, though I spend a LOT of time just proofreading, and scrabbling and clawing at my leg that isn’t pretty.

          I hope you get a new sweater for Christmas, I wouldn’t be a true friend if I didn’t tell you the one I picture you in has gotten pretty pilly!

          • Lillian Fabricant Lillian Fabricant says:

            I just know, somehow, that the whole nativity scheme is somehow opium based, which is probably what sandy people called Myrrh back then so they wouldn’t have to share it with anyone. That would explain the chinese mucking around at the back door of our bible, too. No MSG my ass.

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