I shan’t say Merry Christmas, for indeed it is not. Rather, I would say It’s a Merciless Christmas. Christ roamed Palestine until a few Romans, with a wooden cross and some spikes, sent him to Kingdom Come. If he were to return, he would not last a New York minute before he would be blown up to Kingdom Come again by the Romans of our time; and he would rise with the black smoke of mans inhumanity to man Islander..