First, read this from Mr. Keillor, wherein he bags on Emerson, Harvard, intellectualism, Unitarianism, and delivers a borderline anti-semitic rant about how Jesus is the reason for the season:
Wow, huh? Somehow, for me, he's even less funny than he was before--which is saying something since as a child I was convinced that A Prairie Home Companion was some kind of devious adult plot designed to confuse and alienate children, some kind of contract agreed upon in back rooms over cigars and brandy, wherein parents would foist the show upon their kids, often on Sundays after Church, laughing hysterically over things that were obviously not funny at all. As I grew older, I wondered if my failure to find anything amusing about Garrison Keillor was a failure to develop properly, like I missed some important stage in evolution wherein Guy Noir suddenly becomes the funniest damn thing you've ever heard. I'm happy to discover, thanks to Mr. Keillor, that I may have just been too smart for my own good, too elitist and intellectual. Too much Emerson in Elementary school, perhaps. Too many verses of "Jingle Bells, Batman Smells," "Grandma Got Runover by a Reindeer," or other crass corruptions of the Holiday Spirit. Thanks, G. for reminding us what's important.