John Waters is back, with Christmas lunacy throbbing in his veins. Cockeyed. Rabid. Ready to reinfect the lunatic fringe with holiday jeer. “The Pope of Trash,” as William Burrough once called him, is coming to Austin on his annual festive home-invasion to slide down your chimney of burning giftwrapped needs, igniting your lust for presents and sparking the sexual desires of the newly perverted.

It’ll be a combustion of Christmasly-incorrect kindling that will blaze into a glorious nut-case Noel fire from hell. Go ahead! Knock over that tree! Stomp your presents! Manger Danger! A raging new critical theory that no PTA can ever stop. Scream! Scream again! It’s a John Waters Christmas for Chrissake.