One of the defining qualities of late December is the predictable and ritualized nature of America’s holiday season. Other than discovering what’s inside the wrapped gift boxes, there’s no mystery or suspense to it anymore. The Christmas music starts right before Thanksgiving. Then come the flickering lights, the red-and-green decor, Hollywood’s vacation movie blitz, and finally, with media charlatans turning the key, the fake outrage machine rumbles back to life.
Like a narcissist’s
souped-up 4-by-4, this turbocharged colossus of self-righteous
indignation makes a lot of noise and leaves a mess in its wake—but
ultimately says a lot more about its drivers’ pitiable insecurities than
anything else.
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