My dearest Martha,

I'm writing to you from the front lines of the War on Christmas.

I know you didn't want me to enlist, Martha, but I felt I had a civic duty to my country. I am but a humble, red-blooded, white, Christian, American male. I'd rather die than look someone in the eyes and say "happy holidays."

It's certainly not my intention to frighten you, but I must be honest: This is a mighty war, Martha. We march on boldly to the beat of beloved Christmas carols like "The Little Drummer Boy, ""Good King Wenceslas," and "Silent Night." But rest assured, there are no silent nights in war, and soon we will deck the halls with the blood and entrails of our enemies.

On a lighter note, we also march along to "All I Want for Christmas is You" by Mariah Carey because it's my favorite song. That's why I insisted we play it at our wedding even though we were married in June.

Our greatest opponents, The Hanukkah/Chanukah Battalion, also have music. They play… Well, they mostly only play that one Adam Sandler song despite knowing full well that the UN considers subjecting your adversaries to Adam Sandler's music a war crime.

Now, as you know, Martha, I’m no anti-Semite. Far from it! It’s just that I think anything other than Christianity is wrong. And where I come from, that’s not called anti-Semitism. It’s called being an red-blooded American. So of course I despise Hanukkah/Chanukah.

I was hopeful that our path to victory would be swift. After all, Jesus and Santa are so much more marketable than dreidels and gelt. But it's the damnedest thing, Martha. For when the Hanukkah/Chanukah Battalion first arrived on the battlefield, we were certain they only had enough ammunition to last them one night. And yet somehow, despite all odds, their ammunition has lasted for eight days. It literally doesn't make any sense.

Also, the other day some old guy with a stick shouted something and it started raining frogs, which makes even less sense. I haven't seen raining frogs since 1999 when I took you to see Magnolia. And, to be honest, I didn't much care for that movie. I know it was a critically acclaimed film that went on to be nominated for a ton of awards, but I can't stand Tom Cruise. In fact, I can't stand watching any film with a Scientologist in it. And these days, that means I can hardly watch any movies at all. But I digress.

Our enemies have us outwitted and outmanned. At this point, our only hope is that when the great battle for December 25th arrives, the remaining members of the Hanukkah/Chanukah Battalion forgo the war and instead return home to take their families out for Chinese Food and a movie.

Of course, it would be one thing if my infantry was only going up against the Hanukkah/Chanukah Battalion. But, alas, we must also prepare to wage war against the dreaded Kwanzaa Brigade.

I must admit that at first, I feared the Kwanzaa Brigade with such intensity that my heart quivered at the thought of them; for as you well know, Martha, I am absolutely terrified of Black people. It's one of the few things I have in common with Mike Pence, John Mayer's dick, and a surprising number of American police officers.

But as luck would have it, it turns out that not all that many Black people celebrate Kwanzaa. In fact, the Kwanzaa Brigade is almost entirely comprised of white liberals arguing with other white liberals about the importance of Kwanzaa. They actually spend so much time arguing amongst themselves that they rarely pose any real threat to my infantry's bigoted perspectives, which is exactly what I've come to expect from white liberals.

Nonetheless, I remain hesitant of their Kwanzaa antics, especially since I'm still not entirely sure what Kwanzaa is about. From what I've deduced, though, Kwanzaa is the same as Hanukkah/Chanukah, but with one less day and far more dashikis.

I'm sure there are other holidays out there that pose a threat to Christmas, my dear Martha. It can't just be Kwanzaa and Hanukkah/Chanukah. Surely the Buddhists must be up to something, but the only Buddhist I know is that white guy with dreads who gives out free kombucha samples at Whole Foods. And when I asked him what he was doing this December, he said he planned on "Tokin' and pokin.'" And though I'm not entirely sure what that means, the hand motion he used to accompany the expression certainly seemed illicit. So now I hate Buddhists. After all, I am but a humble, red-blooded, white, Christian, American male, and I can only assume that all Buddhists are exactly the same as the one Buddhist I know.

Rest assured, Martha, the War on Christmas is far from over. But just as I'm sure that Jesus was a white, blue-eyed baby born in December, I'm sure that my infantry will keep on fighting. I refuse to let America's youth grow up in a country that says "happy holidays" instead of "merry Christmas."

Kiss the children for me, Martha. And when you take the girls to go see Santa, please take them to the mall across town. I hear the Santa at the mall in our neighborhood is a creep.

Yours always,

Lieutenant J.B. Curmudgeon