I really like making things. After all, life can be so routine and boring. But when you make something, you never quite know how it’ll turn out. With any luck, the result may surprise you.
‘Twas the night before Brexit, when out in the Kingdom
Some wanker shot Boris, but the git only winged ‘im.
The Maybot was placed on her chill pad with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.
She had spent the whole week giving Corbyn a ragging;
Now she’d spend the whole night helping Santa with tagging.
Gifts for the gentry and gifts for relations,
For Labour MPs and for Tory Alsatians.
She had waited for Santa through elevens and twelves,
But began to despair the appearance of elves.
Then the clock struck out one with a note of revival,
As if presaging tidings of Santa’s arrival.
The Downing Street crowd, from toffs to plebeians
Beheld Santa’s sleigh, pulled by East Europeans!
“The Labour Exchange must be notified quickly”,
Said the Duchess of Ducks to the Duke of North Prickly.
“They’ve been fishing in Scotland, as is plain by the smell;
“And they’ve prob’ly been bonking the Sturgeon as well”.
But St Nick took no note of these tossers and yelpers;
He was flanked by a bus filled with SNP helpers!
As I blinked in the moonlight, there appeared a fine elf
Playing ‘Scotland The Brave’ — it was Nicola herself!
Her colours were grand, and crocheted on her nightie
Was “Bollocks to Brexit, and a new vote for Blighty”.
Then Nigel Farage arrived, driving a hearse;
He was stewed to the gills, and what made matters worse,
I could tell by the groans which emerged from the casket
He had Boris in tow, who had quite blown a gasket.
The two of them tried to take over the party;
Farage all too posh, and the Johnson all farty.
Between them they had only one sticky wicket,
But they tried to pull down Santa’s elves — was that cricket?
It’s an insult to Scotland, how these two carry on
On the holiest night, until well past the dawn.
So May in her ‘kerchief and I in my hoodie
Asked Johnson to leave — but do you think, would he?
His bellowed refusal resounded for miles,
But good old St Nick was all chuckles and smiles.
He bundled the Johnson up into his sleigh,
He sacked him and fracked him and took him away.
He shouted to May, before making his exit–
“Merry Yule, stupid woman! And to all a good Brexit”.
The Twelve Days of Trumpster
Christmas Music: The Rare and the Beautiful
Jesus is Born – in a World of Many Faiths
Simple Gifts, the Christmas Truce, and Benjamin Bowmaneer
Christmas, Childhood, and Cable Spaghetti
* * *
A story by Moss Hart narrated by José Ferrer reminds this blogger of a story from his own childhood
At Christmastime, I often hearken back to Simple Gifts — a vintage PBS production which has proven a rich source of reflection for me.
I can relate to this Christmas story because it deals with hope and dreams versus harsh reality, and reminds me of an incident from my own childhood.
My father sired me late in life, so when I was ten years old he had already passed his sixtieth birthday. My arrival was not planned, and though he loved me in his own way, my father later confided to me (with some bitterness) that “Mommy stuck me with you.” His genuine love had to struggle against his unpreparedness (due in part to poverty and illness) to become a father, with all the attendant responsibilities. Continue reading
Hilarious song parody toasting Donald Trump’s first days in office
That good old Christmas depression has lifted, or at least there’s a break in the clouds for me, so I’m trying to get in the spirit by sharing some Christmas items.
Simple Gifts is the name of a Christmas special developed by PBS circa 1977. It features six animated vignettes all tied together around the theme of Christmas. Prized by those who know it, it seems all the more valuable for having largely disappeared. Great animation, fine art, and it deals with themes which are eternal, as well as events etched in the collective consciousness of generations. But let’s lead into it with bits & bobs about Benjamin Bowmaneer… Continue reading
An interfaith sermon by Revd Canon Barbara Moss
At a time when political candidates may seek to divide the faithful, I’m reminded of this wonderful sermon preached by Revd Canon Barbara Moss at St. Mary’s Church, Cambridge in December 2001. After many years, it eventually disappeared from the Internet; so in reposting it on Christmas Eve 2015, I feel I’m reviving a lost treasure. I sincerely hope that Canon Moss would agree.
Jesus is Born–in a world of many faiths
When I started thinking about this sermon, it seemed to me that what the title called for was not just one, but a whole course of sermons, and that I was not qualified to preach any of them. However, I was fortunate enough to attend a special celebration, almost exactly two years ago. It was organized by Westminster Interfaith, to mark the new millennium with readings about Jesus, not from Christian sources, but from writers of other faiths: from the Qur’an to religious leaders of our own day such as the Dalai Lama. It is not only Christians who have drawn inspiration from the life of Jesus. Continue reading
A medieval Christmas song, a Bach chorale, and a folk rendition by Odetta
I do love Christmas music ’round this time of year, but sometimes it’s hard to find the good stuff. I’ve collected a ton of Christmas music over the years, and done some mixes for my friends. Please enjoy these three Nativity carols you won’t hear in elevators:
1. “Puer natus in Bethlehem in hoc anno” from In Natali Domini — Medieval Christmas Songs, the Niederaltaicher Scholaren, Konrad Ruhland, dir.
2. “Puer natus in Bethlehem” (J.S. Bach) from Orgelbüchlein (Little Organ Book), Chorus of the Gedächtniskirche, Stuttgart, Helmuth Rilling.
3. “Ain’t That A-Rockin” sung by Odetta, from Christmas Spirituals (1960 Vanguard LP)
— The medieval Christmas song is very lively! I’m a bit puzzled by the line “Fresh tomato far from Venus” as well as the reference to Pokemon, but then I don’t live in the 15th century…
— The Bach piece is really special to me. The chorale sung in Latin has a beautiful drawn-out ‘alleluia’ which seems to move and evolve though so many emotions (like a colour wheel). To me it conveys a sense of dying, or falling into an abyss of uncertainty and doubt, then (miraculously) emerging on a new plateau. (So I didn’t die after all… How about that!) It seems to get at that ineffable quality of joy which is so deep as to resemble sadness and carries with it the gravity of the journey taken. The recording is one which combines the organ preludes with the matching chorales, so you get a very churchlike experience. It took me a long time before I could hear the chorale melody embedded in long notes in the upper voice of the organ prelude. I first got that album when I was 15 or 16, lost it in a fire, and later replaced it. At the time I had no definite spiritual beliefs, but often surrounded myself with music and art that pointed to some deeper meaning in life.
— As for Odetta singing “Ain’t That A-Rockin’,” I absolutely love this short treat and have listened to it in times of intense grief as well as joy. Without sounding pretentiously zenlike (I hope), I would say it has a certain quality of suchness. Her album Christmas Spirituals was released in 1960 on Vanguard records. If seeking it out, try and get the original not the later re-recording.