There are angry, joyless, man-hating feminists and then there are angry, joyless, man-hating feminists. Amanda Marcotte would circumcise her own son with her teeth. Except she would never have any kids because babies are “too needy.”
As you might guess, Miss Andrea does not like Donald Trump.
It wasn’t a conscious decision, but it’s time for me to admit it: I’ve mostly given up on Christmas.
It was never a holiday of great importance to me. I’ve never put up a Christmas tree, for instance, though I have often indulged in some tinsel and lights to mark the holiday. But for most of my adult life, Christmas still had some meaning, and I’ve made an effort to mark the day as somehow special. I made pancakes for breakfast. My partner and I opened gifts. We tried to make something out of it.
But that has dissipated in the past couple of years. Even putting forward a minimal effort to mark the day as anything but a boring 24 hours that isn’t even attached to a three-day weekend feels too hard.
The gross fact of the matter is that whatever enthusiasm I once felt for Christmas has dissipated entirely in the age of Donald Trump. He ruins everything he touches, and Christmas, for me, is no exception.
I’m an atheist, and have been at least my whole adult life. So the concept of Christmas as a religious holiday has never had any hold on me. But for believers and non-believers alike in this country, it’s always been more of a secular holiday, at least in the United States. It’s about celebrating family togetherness and a larger sense of the nation coming together in the spirit of joy and generosity.
But all that feels like a lie in Trump’s America.
Forget Tiny Tim declaring, “God bless us, every one!” It’s clear that for that 40% of people in the Trump cult, it’s closer to “Damn anyone to hell who isn’t exactly like us!”
For years, Fox News has been hyping the annual “War on Christmas” lie, falsely claiming that “liberals” have banned saying “Merry Christmas” or other expressions of Yule-specific cheer. But Trump and his minions have taken this lie and pumped steroids in it. Now it has morphed into something even uglier, a way to imply that the point of Christmas is to declare white supremacist America as the only “real” America and to tell everyone else they can go hang.
I recognize that many people react to this campaign by declaring the intent to reclaim Christmas in the spirit of love. No doubt that’s the correct response. Good for them. But I don’t have the energy for it anymore.
For me, it’s personal. My family is mostly a bunch of Trump voters, sucked up into a vortex of propaganda and lies, unable even to admit basic facts about the world that run contrary to what their tribal politics dictate. That sort of thing is stressful on a normal day, but makes a mockery of the idea of familial love and harmony.
This isn’t a matter of political differences that can be set aside for the sake of the holiday. This is about not being able to make merry with people who think nothing of voting for a man who is on tape bragging about sexual assault, a man who cheats in elections and runs concentration camps on the border. A man whose racism has inspired a wave of terrorist violence, including in my hometown of El Paso, Texas.
I first became aware of Amanda Marcotte way back in 2006 when she ran John Edwards’ campaign blog but quit when some of her anti-Catholic screeds were uncovered.
“Writing on the Pandagon blogsite, December 26, 2006, Amanda Marcotte wrote that ‘the Catholic church is not about to let something like compassion for girls get in the way of using the state as an instrument to force women to bear more tithing Catholics.’ On October 9, 2006, she said that ‘the Pope’s gotta tell women who give birth to stillborns that their babies are cast into Satan’s maw.’ On the same day she wrote that ‘it’s going to be bad PR for the church, so you can sort of see why the Pope is dragging ass.’ And on June 14, 2006, she offered the following Q&A: ‘What if Mary had taken Plan B after the Lord filled her with his hot, white, sticky Holy Spirit,’ to which she replied, ‘You’d have to justify your misogyny with another ancient mythology.’
She was an angry and bitter blogger back then, and she is angry and bitter now. She has been angry and bitter every moment in between. She is a walking, talking weenie-shrinker.
And she blames Trump for it.
My favorite part of her anti-everything screed:
I can sense the shaming, criticism and condescension coming my way, let me be clear: I am not a joyless person. On the contrary, I’m a lucky and even privileged person, who gets to have a lot of fun in her life.
Sure, Amanda. I believe you. I bet that you’re a real hoot at parties. There is an old saying I just made up that goes, “You ain’t been high until you smoke weed with Willie.” Well, you ain’t had fun until you’ve
tortured small animals partied with Amanda Marcotte.
Amanda has a new book out. It sounds like a fun read: “Troll Nation: How The Right Became Trump-Worshipping Monsters Set On Rat-F*cking Liberals, America, and Truth Itself.”