12-12-2005, 10:05 PM | #1 | |
Ring-smith
Join Date: Nov 2004
Location: Either walking across Rohan or riding through Fangorn forest
Posts: 2,000
|
Merry Christmas
MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!
__________________
My status: Novice avatar maker. Elf lord Has no authority whatsoever Master of messing up
Thread killer Ring smith Merry Christmas! They'd never say that (Part 2) What happened to the dragon? |
|
12-12-2005, 10:10 PM | #2 |
Cardboard Harp of Gondor Join Date: Sep 2001
Location: IM IN UR POSTZ, EDITIN' UR WURDZ
Posts: 6,433
|
It's not Christmas yet.
BAH HUMBUG! |
12-13-2005, 01:04 AM | #3 |
Fenway Ranger, Lord of Red Sox Nation
Join Date: Aug 2005
Location: College!
Posts: 1,976
|
Ah cmon it's close enough!
(beware the ghost of PC...)
__________________
Adventure...betrayal...heroism... Atharon: where heroes are born. My wife once said to me—when I'd been writing for ten or fifteen years—that I could always go back to being a nuclear engineer. And I said to her, 'Harriet, would you let someone who quit his job to go write fantasy anywhere near your nuclear reactor? I wouldn't!' (Robert Jordan) |
12-13-2005, 04:44 AM | #4 |
Elven Warrior
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Prince George BC Canada
Posts: 139
|
humbug this
*if you dare to read it* Five minutes before the Winter Solstice circle was scheduled to begin, my mother called. Since I'm the only one in our coven who doesn't run on Pagan Standard Time, I took the call. Half the people hadn't arrived, and those who had wouldn't settle down to business for at least twenty minutes. "Merry Christmas, Dave." "Hi, Mum. I don't do Christmas." "Maybe not, but I do, so I'll say it," she told me in her sassy voice, kind of sweet and vinegary at the same time. "If I can respect your freedom of religion, you can respect my freedom of speech." I grinned and rolled my eyes. "And the score is Mum -one, Dave - nothing. But I love you, anyway." People were bustling around in the next room, setting up the altar, decking the halls with what I considered excessive amounts of holly and ivy, and singing something like, "O, Solstice Tree." "It sounds like a...holiday party." Mom said. "We're doing Winter Solstice tonight." "Oh. That's sort of like your version of Christmas, right?" I wanted to snap back that Christmas was the Christian version of Solstice, but I held back. "We celebrate the return of the sun. It's a lot quieter than Christmas. No shopping sprees, no pine needles, no tinsel, and it doesn't wipe me out. I remember how you had always worked yourself to a frazzle by December 26." "Oh honey, I loved doing all that stuff. I wouldn't trade those memories for all the spare time in the world. I wish you and Eve would loosen up a little. When you were little, you enjoyed Easter bunnies and trick-or-treating and Christmas things. Since you've gotten into this Wicca religion, you sound a lot like Aunt Betty the year she was a Jehovah's Witness." I laughed nervously. "Yeah. How is Aunt Betty?" "Fine. She's into the Celestine Prophecy now, and she seems quite happy. Y'know," she went on, "Aunt Betty always said the Jehovah's Witnesses said those holiday things were Pagan. So I don't see why you've given them up." "Uh, they've been commercialized and polluted beyond recognition. We're into very simple, quiet celebrations." "Well," she said dubiously, "as long as you're happy." Sometimes long distance is better than being there, 'cause your mother can't give you the look that makes you agree with everything she says. Eve rescued me by interrupting. Hi, Ma." she called to the phone as she waved a beribboned sprig of mistletoe over my head. Then she kissed me, one of those quick noisy ones. I frowned at her. "Druidic tradition, Dave. Swear to Goddess." "Of course it is. Did the Druids pick mistletoe from MY apple tree?" "Always. We'll be needing you in about five minutes." "Okay. Got to go, Mum. Love you." We had a nice, serene kind of Solstice Circle. No jingling bells or worn-out Christmas Carols. Soon after the last coven member left, Eve was ready to pack it in. "The baby's nestled all snug in her bed," she said with a yawn, "I think I'll go settle in for a long winter's nap." I heaved a martyred sigh. She grinned unrepentantly, kissed me, called me a grinch, and went to bed. I stayed up and puttered around the house, trying to unwind. I sifted through the day's mail, ditched the flyers urging us to get a new credit card to purchase all the Seasonal Joy we could afford. I opened the card from Eve's parents. Another sermon: a manger scene and a bible verse, with a handwritten note expressing her mother's fervent hope that God's love and Christmas spirit would fill our hearts in this blessed season. She means well, really. I amused myself by picking out every Pagan element I could find in the card. When the mail had been sorted, I got up and started turning our ritual room back into a living room. As if the greeting card had carried a virus, I found myself humming Christmas carols. I turned on the classic rock station, but they were playing that Lennon-Ono Christmas song. I switched stations. The weatherman assured me that there was only a twenty percent chance of snow. Then, by Loki, the deejay let Bruce Springsteen insult my ears crooning, "yah better watch out, yah better not pout." I tried the Oldies station. Elvis lives and he does Christmas songs. Okay, fine. We'll do classical ~ no, we won't. They're playing Handel's Messiah. Maybe the community radio station would have something secular humanist. "Ahora, escucharemos a Jose Feliciano canta `Feliz Navidad'." I was getting annoyed. The radio doesn't usually get this saturated with holiday mush until the twenty-fourth. "This is too weird." I said to the radio, "Cut that crap out." The country station had some Kenny Rogers Christmas tune, the first rock station had gone from John and Yoko's Christmas song to Simon and Garfunkel's "Silent Night," and the other rock station still had Springsteen reliving his childhood. "--I'm tellin' you why. Santa Claus is comin' to town!" he bellowed. I was about to pick out a nice secular CD when there was a knock at the door. Now, it could have been a coven member who'd forgotten something. It could have been someone with car trouble. It could have been any number of things, but it certainly couldn't have been a stout guy in a red suit—snowy beard, rosy cheeks, and all--backed by eight reindeer and a sleigh. I blinked, wondered crazily where Rudolph was, and blinked again. There were nine reindeer. Our twenty- percent chance of snow had frosted the dead grass and was continuing to float down in fat flakes. "Hi, Dave." he said warmly, "I've missed you." "I'm stone cold sober, and you don't exist." He looked at me with a mixture of sorrow and compassion and sighed heavily. "That's why I miss you, Dave. Can I come in? We need to talk." I couldn't quite bring myself to slam the door on this vision, hallucination, or whatever. So I let him in, because that made more sense then letting all the cold air in while I argued with someone who wasn't there. As he stepped in, a thought crossed my mind about various entities needing an invitation to get in houses. He flashed me a smile that would melt the polar caps. "Don't you miss Christmas, Dave?" "No." I said flatly, "Apparently you don't see me when I'm sleeping and waking these days. I haven't been Christian for years." "Oh, now don't let that stop you. We both know this holiday's older than that. Yule trees and Saturnalia and here-comes-the-sun, doodoodendoodoo." I raised an eyebrow at the Beatles reference, and then gave him my standard sermon on the appropriation and adulteration that made Christmas no longer a Pagan holiday. I had done my homework. I listed centuries; I named names -St. Nicholas among them. "In the twentieth century version," I assured him, "Christmas is two parts crass commercialism mixed with one part blind faith in a religion I rejected years ago." I gave him my best lines, the ones that had convinced my coven to abstain from Christmassy clichés. My hallucination sat in Eve's favourite chair, nodding patiently at me. "And you," I added nastily, "come here talking about ancient customs when you--in your current form--were invented in the nineteenth century by, um...Clement C. Moore." He laughed a rolling, belly-deep chuckle unlike any department-store Santa I'd ever heard. "Of course I change my form now and then to suit fashion. Don't you? And does that stop you from being yourself?" He said, and asked me if I remembered Real Magic, by Isaac Bonewits. I gaped at him for a moment, and then caught myself. "This is like `Labyrinth', right? I'm having a dream that pretends to be real, but is only made from pieces of things in my memory. You don't look a thing like David Bowie." "Bonewits has this Switchboard Theory." Santa went on amiably, "The energy you put into your beliefs influences the real existence of the archetypal--oh, let me put it simpler: `in the beginning, Man created God'. Ian Anderson." He lit a long-stemmed pipe. The tobacco had a mild and somehow Christmassy smell, and every puff sent up a wreath of smoke. "I'm afraid it's a bit more complicated than Bonewits tells it, but that's close enough for mortals. Are you with me so far?" "Oh, sure." I lied as unconvincingly as possible. Santa sighed heavily. "When's the last time you left out Sherry and Mince Pies for me?" "When I figured out my parents were eating them." "Dave, Dave. Remember pinda balls, from Hinduism?" "Rice balls left as offerings for ancestors and gods." "Do Hindus really believe that the ancestors and gods eat pinda balls?" "All right, y'got me there. They say that spirits consume the spiritual essence, and then mortals can have what's left." "Mm-hm." Santa smiled at me compassionately through his snowy beard. I rallied quickly. "What about the toys? I know for a fact they aren't made by you and a bunch of non-union Elves." "Oh, that's quite true. Manufacturing physical objects out of magical energy is terribly expensive and breaks several laws of Nature--She only allows us to do that on special occasions. It certainly couldn't be done globally and annually. Now, the missus and the Elves and I really do have a shop at the North Pole. Not the sort of thing the Air Force would ever find. What we make up there is what makes this time a holiday, no matter what religion it's called." "Don't tell me," I said, rolling my eyes, "you make the sun come back." "Oh my, no. The solar cycle stuff, the Reason For The Season, isn't my department. My part is making it a holiday. We make a mild, non- addictive psychedelic thing called Christmas spirit. Try some." He dipped his fingers in a pocket and tossed red-gold-green-silver glitter at me. I could have ducked. I don't know why I didn't. It smelled like snow and pine needles, and cedar chips in the fireplace. It smelled like fruitcake, savoury herbal stuffing, like that foamy white stuff you spray on the window with stencils. It felt like a crisp wind, Grandma's hugs, fuzzy new mittens, pine needles scrunching under my slippers. I saw twinkly lights, mistletoe in the doorway, smiling faces from years gone by. Several Christmas carols played almost simultaneously in a kind of medley. I fought my way back to my living room and glared sternly at the hallucination in Eve's chair. "Fun stuff. Does the DEA know about this?" "Oh, Dave. Why are you such a hard case? I told you it's non- addictive and has no harmful side effects. Would Santa Claus lie to you?" I opened my mouth and closed it again. We looked at each other a while. "Can I have some more of that glittery stuff?" "Mmmm. I think you need something stronger. Try a sugarplum." I tasted rum ball. Peppermint. Those hard sugar sticks with the words all the way through, my favourite fudge. A chorus line of Christmas sweets danced through my mouth. The Swedish Angel Chimes, run on candle power, say tingatingatingating. Mum, with a funny smile, promised to give Santa my letter. Greeting cards taped on the refrigerator door. We rode through the tree farm on a straw-filled trailer pulled by a red and green tractor, looking for a perfect pine. It was so big; Dad had to cut a bit off so the star wouldn't scrape the ceiling. Lights, ornaments, tinsel. Dad lifted me up to the mantle to hang my stocking. My toy soldiers stayed up to see Santa Claus, and in the morning they all had new clothes. Grandma carried in platters with the world's biggest Christmas dinner. Janie's Christmas puppy chased my Christmas kitten up the tree and it would have fallen over but Dad held it while Mum got the kitten out. Dad said every bad word there was but he kept laughing anyway. I sneaked my favourite plastic horse into the nativity scene, between the camels and the donkey. I came back to reality slowly, with a silly smile on my face and a tickly feeling behind my eyes like they wanted to cry. The phrase "visions of sugarplums" took on a whole new meaning. "How long has it been," Santa asked, "since you played with a nativity set?-" "But it symbolizes--" "The winter-born king. The sacred Mother and her sun-child. Got a problem with that? You could redecorate it with pentagrams if you like, they'll look fine. As for the Christianization, I've heard who you invoke at Imbolc." "But Bridgid was a Goddess for centuries before the Catholic Church- oh." I crossed my arms and tried to glare at him, but failed. "You're a sneaky old Elf, y'know?" "The term is `jolly old Elf.' Care for another sugarplum?" I did. I tasted gingerbread. My first nip of soy eggnog the way the grown-ups drink it. Fresh sugar cookies shaped like trees and decked with coloured icing. Dad had been laid off, but we managed a lot of cheer. They told us Christmas would be "slim pickings." Janie and I smiled bravely when Mum brought home that spindly spruce. We loaded down our "Charlie Brown Christmas Tree" with every light and ornament it could hold. Popcorn and cranberry strings for the outdoor trees. Mistletoe in the hall: plastic mistletoe, real kisses. Janie and I snipped and glued and stitched and painted treasures to give as presents. We agonized over our "Santa" letters...by now we knew where the goodies came from, and we tried to compromise between what we longed for and they thought they could afford. Every day we hoped the factory would reopen. When Janie's dog ate my glove, I wasn't brave. I knew that meant I'd get gloves for Christmas, and one less toy. I cried. On December twenty-fifth we opened our presents ve-ery slo-wly, drawing out the experience. We made a show of cheer over our socks and shirts and meagre haul of toys. I got red gloves. We could tell Mum and Dad were proud of us for being so brave, because they were grinning like crazy. "Go out to the garage for apples." Mama told us, "We'll have apple pancakes." I don't remember having the pancakes. There was a dollhouse in the garage. No mass-produced aluminium thing but a homemade plywood dollhouse with wall-papered walls and real curtains and thread-spool chairs. Janie's dolls were inside, with newly sewn clothes. I was on my knees in front of a plywood barn with hay in the loft. My old farm implements had new paint. Our plastic animals were corralled in stick fences. The garage smelled like apples and hay, the cement was bone-chilling under my slippers, and I was crying. My knees were drawn up to my chest, arms wrapped around them. My chest felt tight, like ice cracking in sunshine. Santa offered me a huge white handkerchief. When all the ice in my chest had melted, he cleared his throat. He was pretty misty-eyed, too. "Want to come sit on my lap and tell me what you want for Christmas?" "You've already given it to me." But I sat on his lap anyway, and kissed his rosy cheek until he did his famous laugh. "I'd better go now, Dave. I have other stops to make, and you have work to do." "Right. I'd better pop the corn tonight; it strings best when it's stale." I let him out the door. The reindeer were pawing impatiently at the moon-kissed new-fallen snow. I'd swear Rudolph winked at me. "Don't forget the Sherry and mince pies." "Right. Uh, December twenty-fourth, or Solstice, or what?" He shrugged. "Whatever night you expect me, I'll be there. Eh, don't wait up. Visits like this are tightly rationed. Laws of Nature, y'know, and She's strict with them." "Gotcha. Thanks, Santa." I kissed his cheek again. "Happy Christmas." The phrase had a nice, non-denominational ring to it. I thought I'd call my parents and in-laws soon and try it out on them. Santa laid his finger aside of his nose and nodded. "Blessed be, Dave." The sleigh soared up, and Santa really did exclaim something. It sounded like old German. Smart-aleck Elf. When I closed the door, the radio was playing Jethro Tull's "Solstice Bells." Happy Whatever...!!!
__________________
If you must judge others.....do not judge others by the height they have climbed; rather, judge them by the depths they have risen from. Think before you act, but act before it's too late. He is a man of sense who does not grieve for what he has not, but rejoices in what he has. You can stand tall without standing on someone. You can be a victor without having victims. The Utopian Oldschool Champ. http://games.swirve.com/utopia www.Orderofavalon.com |
12-13-2005, 05:13 AM | #5 |
of the House of Bëor
Join Date: Jul 2005
Location: Eastwards.
Posts: 979
|
I LOVED this story, Drgnslayer (why didn't it update the thread? Hope my post will.)
Happy Whatever...!!! (Christmas for me)
__________________
I'm good in bed - I can sleep for days Last edited by littleadanel : 12-13-2005 at 05:15 AM. |
12-13-2005, 12:39 PM | #6 | |
Ring-smith
Join Date: Nov 2004
Location: Either walking across Rohan or riding through Fangorn forest
Posts: 2,000
|
Merry Christmas to ALL and to ALL a good night.
__________________
My status: Novice avatar maker. Elf lord Has no authority whatsoever Master of messing up
Thread killer Ring smith Merry Christmas! They'd never say that (Part 2) What happened to the dragon? |
|
12-13-2005, 01:49 PM | #7 | ||
Friendly Neigborhood Sith Lord
Join Date: Apr 2005
Location: USA
Posts: 2,080
|
Merry Christmas To ALL
__________________
I was Press Secretary for the Berlioz administration and also, but not limited to, owner and co operator of fully armed and operational battle station EDDIE Quote:
Quote:
|
||
12-13-2005, 05:19 PM | #8 |
of the House of Fëanor
Join Date: Apr 2005
Location: Los Angeles
Posts: 6,150
|
At first, when I saw the title of this little thread, I thought to myself, 'Fine, I'll just pop in real quick & bah humbug this silliness,' but then I read that AWEsome little story, and the part about how she remembers that dollhouse that her parents refurbished got me actually slightly crying. Wow. DAMN good story!!! It instantly reminded me of being a child, with my family, those old Christmases past so long ago, memories I've buried so deep but then there it was again. Reminded me of how much I love & miss my family. No bah humbug; Happy Christmas you guys!
__________________
Few people have the imagination for reality.
~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe |
12-13-2005, 06:05 PM | #9 | ||
Friendly Neigborhood Sith Lord
Join Date: Apr 2005
Location: USA
Posts: 2,080
|
and a very joyful, happy, and last but not least MERRY CHRISTMAS to you.
__________________
I was Press Secretary for the Berlioz administration and also, but not limited to, owner and co operator of fully armed and operational battle station EDDIE Quote:
Quote:
|
||
12-13-2005, 06:18 PM | #10 |
of the House of Fëanor
Join Date: Apr 2005
Location: Los Angeles
Posts: 6,150
|
Xmas 2 U 2!!
__________________
Few people have the imagination for reality.
~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe |
12-13-2005, 11:59 PM | #11 |
Hobbit in the Music
Join Date: Nov 1999
Location: Westmarch
Posts: 1,111
|
That story reminds me of an article I read: How "Merry Christmas" became "Happy Holidays". I think it's good to be aware of the holidays of the people we live with and help them celebrate, no matter how or what we celebrate ourselves. Merry Christmas to all of you.
|
12-14-2005, 02:30 PM | #12 |
An enigma in a conundrum
Join Date: Oct 1999
Posts: 6,476
|
OK, but first is Festivus!
__________________
Vizzini: "HE DIDN'T FALL?! INCONCEIVABLE!!" Inigo: "You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means." |
12-14-2005, 04:05 PM | #13 | ||
Friendly Neigborhood Sith Lord
Join Date: Apr 2005
Location: USA
Posts: 2,080
|
oh hey great story drgnslayer, i just finished reading it, couldn't see it before for some reason, anyway really funny, but true, no matter how cynical you are, christmas will bring out the best memories.
__________________
I was Press Secretary for the Berlioz administration and also, but not limited to, owner and co operator of fully armed and operational battle station EDDIE Quote:
Quote:
|
||
12-14-2005, 04:53 PM | #14 |
Half-Elven Princess of Rabbit Trails and Harp-Wielding Administrator (beware the Rubber Chicken of Doom!)
Join Date: Sep 2002
Location: Not where I want to be ...
Posts: 15,254
|
Merry Christmas to everyone that celebrates it
To me, it means the long-awaited, promised coming of Emmanuel, which means "God with us" - it's so cool to me that the creator of the universe would come into our world in order to be with us in a way that we could comprehend I don't know which holiday I like better - Easter or Christmas - I love them both
__________________
. I should be doing the laundry, but this is MUCH more fun! Ñá ë?* óú éä ïöü Öñ É Þ ð ß ® ç å ™ æ ♪ ?* "How lovely are Thy dwelling places, O Lord of hosts! ... For a day in Thy courts is better than a thousand outside." (from Psalm 84) * * * God rocks! Entmoot : Veni, vidi, velcro - I came, I saw, I got hooked! Ego numquam pronunciare mendacium, sed ego sum homo indomitus! Run the earth and watch the sky ... Auta i lómë! Aurë entuluva! |
12-14-2005, 05:31 PM | #15 | |
Ring-smith
Join Date: Nov 2004
Location: Either walking across Rohan or riding through Fangorn forest
Posts: 2,000
|
And merry christmas to everone who doesn't celebrate it too!
__________________
My status: Novice avatar maker. Elf lord Has no authority whatsoever Master of messing up
Thread killer Ring smith Merry Christmas! They'd never say that (Part 2) What happened to the dragon? |
|
12-15-2005, 12:48 PM | #16 | |
Ring-smith
Join Date: Nov 2004
Location: Either walking across Rohan or riding through Fangorn forest
Posts: 2,000
|
My little brother wants to say Merry Christmas too.
__________________
My status: Novice avatar maker. Elf lord Has no authority whatsoever Master of messing up
Thread killer Ring smith Merry Christmas! They'd never say that (Part 2) What happened to the dragon? |
|
12-15-2005, 11:28 PM | #17 |
Elven Warrior
Join Date: Jan 2005
Posts: 103
|
I think it's amusing how far the school systems have taken this Merry Christmas buisness.
Example: My Honors English prof. was "chastised" the other day for having a Christmas tree in her class room. So, she took it down for the rest of that day. Class started again the next day and the tree was there. Only this time, it included a menorah, the Islamic cresent, etc. Well, the headmaster stalks in (I can only assume that the class has a squeler) and opens his mouth (his face was purple...it was hilarious!) but before he could say a word she whips out one of our War and Peace handbooks and reads to him, "Article something or other section this and that states, and I quote, that the staff may chose to decorate the school in any manner of their choosing so long as it is not discriminatory to any one person, religion, or way of life." The headmaster glared at the tree for the longest time and then stalked out of the room. But, I know that he didn't get far enough down the hall to not hear the room explode with the noise of twenty-three clapping teens.
__________________
"Not only did my encounters with voters confirm the fundamental decency of the American people, they also reminded me that at the core of the American experience are a set of ideals that continue to stir our collective conscience; a common set of values that bind us together despite our differences; a running thread of hope that makes our improbable experiment in democracy work..." Barack Obama, The Audacity of Hope Last edited by Master'sBaneSwiftSnowmane : 12-15-2005 at 11:31 PM. Reason: Grammer |
12-16-2005, 09:45 AM | #18 |
Elf Lord
Join Date: Aug 2001
Location: 2nd star to the left.....
Posts: 566
|
Wonder-full story, Drgnslyer!
And a Happy (insert your holiday here) to all!!!! |
12-19-2005, 06:00 PM | #19 | ||
Friendly Neigborhood Sith Lord
Join Date: Apr 2005
Location: USA
Posts: 2,080
|
Feliz Navidad and
Merry Christmas!
__________________
I was Press Secretary for the Berlioz administration and also, but not limited to, owner and co operator of fully armed and operational battle station EDDIE Quote:
Quote:
|
||
12-19-2005, 06:25 PM | #20 |
Elf Lord
Join Date: Oct 2004
Location: sikeston, MO, usa, earth, sol
Posts: 3,114
|
May the Mass of the Nativity of Our Lord Jesus bar Joseph of Nazareth be filled with blessings as you make anamnesis of the Incarnation of the Lord of Glory!
Or, in the vernacular, MERRY CHRISTMAS!
__________________
Inked "Aslan is not a tame lion." CSL/LWW "The new school [acts] as if it required...courage to say a blasphemy. There is only one thing that requires real courage to say, and that is a truism." GK Chesterton "And there is always the danger of allowing people to suppose that our modern times are so wholly unlike any other times that the fundamental facts about man's nature have wholly changed with changing circumstances." Dorothy L. Sayers, 1 Sept. 1941 |
|
|
Similar Threads | ||||
Thread | Thread Starter | Forum | Replies | Last Post |
Increased Islamic Influence in European Nations | inked | General Messages | 198 | 03-20-2011 06:36 AM |
Star wars funnys | me9996 | The Star Wars Saga | 176 | 06-27-2008 03:48 AM |
Merry Christmas everyone | Sween | General Messages | 42 | 12-28-2004 05:48 PM |
Merry Christmas Greetings Thread! | zavron | General Messages | 1 | 12-19-2002 03:11 PM |
Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas! | galadriel1 | General Messages | 21 | 01-06-2001 04:30 AM |