All Entries Tagged With: "Western"
Ancient Druids Revered Mistletoe Berries
(Ireland) If you’ve ever wandered the woodlands of Ireland you couldn’t help but trip over the mistletoe. It grows everywhere. Surprisingly when all the other green is in hibernation the mistletoe plant continues to produce berries all winter long.
The Druid physician-priests held the berries dear for their medicinal benefits and very likely in prevention of conception. The berries contain high concentrations of progesterone (rhymes with testosterone) which stimulates the libido. We will paraphrase what may have happened next as theorized by Dr. John Lee, author of Natural Progesterone – The Multiple Rolls of a Remarkable Hormone.
Here’s the scenario: For many centuries the Druids sponsored a winter solstice festival that, according to our calendar fell on December 22 or 23. The event, which lasted one week was meant to keep the sun from disappearing completely from the sky. (The pagans were uptight about things too – especially the sun god taking a powder). The celebration was held so that Spring would someday return and the world would not die. Katy, bar the door! Debts were paid, gifts exchanged and feasts presented. In addition a sacred concoction of hot mead laced with mistletoe berries was plentiful.
Once the party got started the influence of the warm alcohol and the progesterone helped everyone get quite relaxed, and get to know each other better…real better.
Modern medicine recognizes the fact that menstrual shedding is the result of an abrupt fall of progesterone, which no doubt occurred after the week of Celtic carousing had ended. Therefore, any conception that took place during the week of unrestricted sex would be lost in the induced flow. Besides allowing participants access to primitive sexual license, the solstice party reinforced the perception that festive sex without subsequent responsibility was merely another gift from the gods. Simple enough.
With the start of the new year everything returned to normal. And you thought you’d been to some parties…Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah and Happy Solstice. Mistletoe berries and mead…
– Finn McCool
“The trouble is, you think you have time.” – Buddha
Editor’s Coroner
Happy Hollandaise! This month we’re coming to you from the same place as we did in November, only it’s a different month and a different place. Can anyone tell us what month? That’s right, December, and it’s much like last year. Jingle Bells hasn’t changed. The elves don’t look much older. It’s dark early. The Broncos still stink. Big Business is still milking the public. The Homeland Security Agency is still counting paper clips and we’re still waiting for the big dump, of snow that is, followed by several larger, frightening accumulations of snow.
One positive development that just came down is the announcement that our friends over at Wal-mart will close for the holidays so that somebody else can make a living for a change. Do you shop there? Shame on you. We hope you get a lump of used Chinese coal for Christmas. This is an evil corporation that mistreats your fellow man all over he world. Couldn’t you just buy your socks someplace else?
Imagine what it would be like to take off the entire month of January because the snow was too deep to go anywhere. Fiction? It used to be the norm, well almost the norm. That’s what the old timers told us when we were nippers. In any case, keep your cupboards filled, your stilts handy and your snowshoe socks dry.
Stories which merit attention this month include the latest segment of Lord of the Oil Rigs where Frotho and Texo find themselves transported to a sand-bagged Hobbit-hole just a few clicks from Baghdad’s Hard Rock Cafe in the Trump Towers. Who’s got the ring (or at least a pint) and where is Gandalf (played by Forest Whitaker) when we need a little magic?
Yes, the world is flat and getting flatter.
Trendy Middle East coverage: Funny how Palestinians think they are the good guys too. Thrill to vintage film of the annual Baghdad New Bath Party Christmas Gift Exchange in Eating Their Kurds Away. Over in Iran the big question remains: Do the weapons inspectors get to hang their stockings too?
Had enough? Did you know that many NFL players employ aliases to protect them from fiscal chicanery and other forms of fraud aimed at their pocketbooks? That’s why there are so many Smiths, Johnsons and Washingtons across the backs of jerseys. We cover the story in here. Another sports page gem tells us why lawsuits have overtaken jogging suits in the annual holiday fashion parade.
Don’t miss a candid conversation with Evelyn Marmotbreath as she shares with us recipes for Eating Patriotically. Right across the page take a look at Spicing Up Your Julgrot, and continued coverage on the arrest of freeze-dried giant, Little Jack Horner as a suspected terrorist. Let’s hang him from his plums!
This month’s News In-Depth takes us to the North Pole where Santa has threatened a run at the White House in 2020, as an Independent to boot. Will attempts by the Trump people to discredit him as a leftist make the decision for him? What about Hillary and her plan to train pig-tailed sloths to pick coconuts? Will Bill come on board after the last fiasco? What about Rand Paul? Has he survived any more beatings outside of his home?
In closing we’re happy to report that we’ve finally gotten the bears to sleep for the winter. Endless stories, lullabies, kisses on the forehead, glasses of water and promises of pancakes in the spring (with blue berries and whipped cream) did it. As in past years all winter residents, especially ice climbers, are asked to observe Quiet Zones above 8,000 feet until at least the Ides of March.
Quote of the month: “Mountain lions are of little use in a technological society.” – Unknown.
Patterns in the shade, textures in the tree
The plaza Ciudad Bolivar, Colombia. Amid daytime color a barrage of Christmas lights then accentuates the Andean night.
Congressional GOP Resignations Corroborated
Many Republican legislators intend to vacate their Congressional seats, effective on the passage of a divisive and contentious tax bill.
“We have done our job. We have unselfishly served the rich and saved America from the Godless Welfare State. But by doing so we have taken ourselves out of the running for reelection,” said Corey Parvenu of Mañana. “Who would vote for us now? Our Congressional salaries are chicken feed compared with the money we make from campaign contributions and other payoffs, so who gives a tinker’s damn.”
“We hate to eat and run but hasta la tonta,” taunted Tar Sands, of North Dakota. “Once voters suffer the fool and realize that we have screwed them we will not be electable, and so, without further fanfare, we will bid adieu…”
Democrats in the House breathed a sigh of relief at the news. “Winners like that make too many losers, to coin a Donna the Buffalo song. They sold their souls and turned our backs on everything the Republican Party once held dear,” said Oregon Democrat, Fanny Albright. “If all of them actually resign we might be ale to pass something besides gas before November.”
At risk of reprisals, retiring lawmakers will go into seclusion until the debris settles, which they hope won’t be “real long”. Insiders, fearing violence, say that poor people “will soon want blood but may have to travel to off-shore bunkers to get it.”
People like Donald Trump and Paul Ryan, who don’t need the money, are slated to save millions on taxes with the new passage while the working poor will get stiffed big time, especially on safety nets. Many of these poor unfortunates to be voted for these wealthy scoundrels and most of them are sticking to their guns, preferring a fatal fall from a high precipice of lies rather than an admission that they were hoodwinked.
“I’ve got a place up river where no one will find me for a long time,” whispered former house whip Mitch “Clear Skies” Pettifogger. “People around here like me. The others will forget in no time. Then we can make a pincher comeback without all the half-cocked liberal investigations.”
Indictments in the ongoing Penis Inquisition will be downplayed in the mainstream press so as to allow the honorable brahmans to safely sneak out of town before mobs understand the consequences and guillotines begin rolling into the the National Mall.
“‘Tis the season, heh?” asked one defrocked “journalist” from Faux News. “It’s like our man Santa legislating the elves out of health insurance, pensions and even free internet while they tighten the screws. Isn’t it an exiting time to be alive!”
Meanwhile in Colorado the state GOP continues to blame the drought on Barack Obama and Jimmy Carter. Many plan relocation to Argentina and Paraguay.
– Tommy Middlefinger
Amazon Acquires Christmas
(Montrose) On-line retailer, and now communications giant, Amazon has reportedly purchased Christmas for an undisclosed sum. The acquisition sent shock waves through major stock exchanges already paralyzed by news that the Afghani Poppy Cartel had been admitted to the Wall Street’s exclusive market.
What this often hostile buyout could mean for the age-old tradition of Christmas was not clear at the time of the report. Already most retail giants and the credit card companies have sought to placate the new owners with sales and other promotions aimed at selling more junk to the consumer. What the communications concern will do with Christmas for the rest of the year was not discussed.
“We just hope they don’t ship it out of the country do to lower overhead and a workforce that will toil for less than the traditional employees at the North Pole,” said one consumer advocate.
White House spokesperson Sarah Huckabee Sanders welcomed the news for no apparent reason while President Trump tweeted about golf and North Korea.
In reference to the Afghani quotes many brokers here say they under the assumption that it was poppycock, not poppy stock that was being considered.
All agree that margins for the agricultural commodity have risen sharply since the “elimination” of the Taliban. Poppies are cultivated all over Afghanistan with each pretty flower containing high quantities of opium which is then processed into heroin either there or who it arrives in the U.S..
“When the demand is that intense in U.S. and European markets, it will soon be reflected in ridiculous profits for some war lord or the other,” said a source on the floor here. “We just hope he’s an ally in the war against terror.”
– Marcelle Paisa
SANTA TO TEACH SEX-ED
(Ridgway) Santa Claus has been hired to teach sex education here starting in January according to educators here. In compliance with guidelines set down by the Trump Administration the curriculum will be based on half-truths, superstition, misinformation, denial and outright lies permeated by faith-based interests and aimed at keeping this segment of the population in the dark about such hushed topics as birth control and good health.
Santa was chosen both because his very existence is also based on a series of myths and because he is free most of the year.
“All those elves must mean something,” said one teacher, “Our message here is abstinence. He’s got the credentials but does he have the ability to whitewash the problem in accordance with Administration twisted yardsticks.”
Although there is no solid evidence that Santa was in any way involved with the procreation of the over 400 elves that live with him, he is seen as a father figure by many which may further qualify him for the teaching position.
– Peter Salte
Snowbank Needs Donations
(Telluride) The local San Miguel County snowbank, a non-profit clearing house for all types of holiday charities is in need of donations. Canned goods, toys, usable clothing and cash are at the top of the list with Christmas only a wish away. Last year the fund collected more than $300,000 worth of loot that was distributed to poor families in the region.
Home of glitzy Telluride, San Miguel County is not considered to be a region plagued with poor people although, according to recently compiled statistics, a family of four making less than $100,000 per year is below the accepted poverty level and is qualified for assistance.
“Any moneys left over after December 25 will be earmarked for a knock-down holiday bash in downtown Cahone on New Year’s Eve,” said organizer Muffy Hollandaise of Lawson Hill. “The party is open to anyone no matter what their financial status but we will be checking fiscal statements at the door in hopes of securing pledges for next year.”
– Ripple Van Winkle
“You’re mad. bonkers. Off your head…but I’ll tell you a secret…all of the best people are.”
– Alice in Wonderland
A ROCKY MOUNTAIN CHRISTMAS
It was another quaint scene of rural Rocky Mountain Americana, long before the beautiful people landed here. A clothesline, heavy with a fresh wash, was stretched from the propped up hood of a black ’54 Chevy to the corner post of the flimsy front porch. A spotted mutt lay in the mud chewing on an old sneaker as three dirty-faced children ran half-naked through the snow and mud frolicking among the goats and chickens.
Grandma sat glum-faced in an old rocker on the front lawn bundled in a stained blanket. A dip of snuff lay soggy between her lip and gum. Brown spittle drooled down her chin, spotting the bosom of her Goodwill dress.
Mary Jane looked from the kitchen window as she kneaded dough for the Christmas baked goods. She watched as the warm sunshine melted snow from the old barn roof sending its cool droppings into a rancid mound of garbage and rotting deer hides. A mouse scurried from the pantry and into the corner. Mary Jane quickly finished her last slug of Keystone and hurled the empty at the unsuspecting rodent, shattering glass against the stove. The mouse ran back into the pantry, a sprig of parsley clutched fast between its teeth. It’s only parsley, thought Mary Jane. The kids won’t eat it anyhow.
Gus, Mary Jane’s husband, stumbled from the barn. His eyes were red from drink and blinded by the afternoon sun causing him to trip over an old rusty transmission. He fell headlong into the mud and snow cursing bitterly.
On the horizon came a fleet of pickups and vans. Here come the do-gooders, mused Gus. Then he smiled, for in the deep recesses of his foggy memory a thought emerged. Old Melvin Toole was playing Santa at the Grange today. At least he would have someone to drink with after all.
The visitors parked in the rutted road’s ankle deep mud and gathered at the gate. Phony smiles adorned their scrubbed faces. Beneath the holy makeup of a shaky Santa was the smug, devil-may-care Toole. He stepped from his pickup, hoisting a sack of toys over his boney shoulder. He swallowed the last swig of his drugstore bourbon and tossed the empty bottle into the back of the truck, the melting snow muffling the sound of the breaking atop his jack, other bottles and a huge piece of petrified cottonwood.
“I use that for ballast,” he slurred. But not a creature heard him.
Next the county sheriff marched through the gate dragging a fresh-cut spruce. Behind him was a procession of the righteous carrying boxes of decorations and food.
“Ya got anything to drink in there?” asked Gus whose request was promptly ignored by the pilgrims.
The children, stone-faced and perplexed, stood next to Grandma as she rocked and chewed her cud. Gus lit a Viceroy. In the kitchen Mary Jane opened another beer, looking out of the window in disgust at the procession in her field.
All at once a rusty piece of barbed wire, hidden beneath the snow, caught the shiny patent leather toe of Santa’s boot sending him down the hill, gliding on his red Gore-Tex suit and crashing into Gus. The impact sent both men rolling into the pile of garbage and deer hides, causing a roar of laughter and cheer.
On the back of the pickup a guitar player strummed while a chorus from Al-Anon sang that famous old Buck Owens classic, “Santa Looks A Lot Like Daddy.”
Everyone just stood their in the yard wondering what to do next when it began to snow. In the distance silver peaks glistened like white marble against a powder-blue sky. The green pines shuddered, the sun met the land and once again another Christmas arrived in the glorious Rockies.
– Jose Katu
