So many multicolored Christmas lights decorate the houses on my street that the night seems brighter than the day. Giant inflatable cartoon characters, also illuminated, have appeared in many neighborhood gardens, most only tenuously connected with the holidays. If you can pull a Santa hat over its head and hang an icicle from its nose then it's considered seasonal, I guess. But the overall effect is more Pink Floyd concert than any Winter Wonderland. There is no room for a one horse open sleigh here unless it is turbo-charged. The star of Bethlehem is outshone by a disco glitter ball rotating amid animated red and green lasers.
By comparison, the traditional Nativity scene erected outside the local church looks like a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. "Hello my name is Melchior and I'm a frankincense addict." The unlit wooden figures are in such poor shape it is hard to tell the poor shepherds from the Kings of Orient and the sheep from the camels. Behold one lowly cattle shed in desperate need of a Disney makeover. Even the Angel of the Lord seems itching to fly away as soon as possible. If there is a war on Christmas, then this church has shot itself in the foot.
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