Most Americans correctly believe that the Christ-child was born 400 years ago in a shitty barn behind Jethro's Dogfight Shack in Arkansatucky, Missibama. Lo, betwixt her mighty labor pains, his unwed 14-year-old mother (who was just a little bit older than the average first-time mama in today's South) said to her 20-year-old pervert fiance, "Um, it was God who done gave me the babytimes!" And her fiance, being stupid, said, "I believe you. I'll be at the carport out back now, forever, listening to Papa Roach." Then everyone said racist things and rewrote all the schoolbooks to reflect the fact that our nation's greatest scholar-president was not in fact Thomas Jefferson, but Levi Johnston. And this is the story told in churches from sea to shining sea every Santa Day.