GIVE TIL IT HURTS!

Pretty as new-fallen snow

Another fine, fine Christmas tune.

In case you aren’t familiar with this one, it’s a vocal-free version of “Once In Royal David’s City,” originally set to music by Brit organist Henry Gauntlett.

Once in Royal David’s City is a Christmas carol originally written as a poem by Cecil Frances Alexander. The carol was first published in 1848 in her hymnbook Hymns for Little Children.

A year later, the English organist Henry Gauntlett discovered the poem and set it to music.

Henry John Gauntlett was organist at a number of London churches, including St Olave’s in Tooley Street, Southwark from 1827 to 1846, Christ Church Greyfriars and Union Chapel, Islington from 1852 to 1861. He edited many hymnbooks and wrote over a thousand hymn tunes, although his setting of “Once in Royal David’s City” to the tune of “Irby” is his most famous.

Since 1919, the Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols at the King’s College Chapel, Cambridge has begun its Christmas Eve service, with Dr Arthur Henry Mann’s arrangement of “Once in Royal David’s City” as the Processional hymn. Mann was organist at King’s between 1876 and 1929.

In Mann’s arrangement, the first verse is sung by a boy chorister of the college’s choir as a solo. The second verse is sung by the choir, and the congregation joins in the third verse. Excluding the first verse, the hymn is accompanied by the organ.

In The English Carol, Erik Routley notes that Mann’s unaccompanied arrangement of Gauntlett’s original hymn changes the character of the work into one which emphasises the acoustic space of the chapel: “with subtle art that arrangement turns the homely children’s hymn into a processional of immense spaciousness.”

According to the tradition of the King’s College Choir, the soloist of this hymn is usually chosen right before the performance, when the choirmaster decides whose voice is the strongest on the day, prior to the start of the broadcast.

And there you have it, folks: another great song made even more enjoyable by having a great story behind how it came to be.

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SOIA

TL Davis just comes right out and says it—all of it.

America is weak as it was during the Civil War/War of Northern Aggression, not yet having found its bearings or expanded to its whole breadth. One part of the government demanded a self-immolating end to slavery without a practical or logical way of disentangling the economy of the South from slavery. It was, in that aspect, a taking without compensation and a violation of state’s rights.

Now, in the inflamed racial environment fomented for political gain by Barack Obama and egged on continually by the George Soros-funded BLM and Antifa, fighting to divide America again as it was during the CW/WoNA for their own purposes of raising communism out of the smoking remains. A third or less of America is willing to burn it to the ground to get what they want with the much larger share of Americans simply trying to ignore it while they go to work and support their families.

But Americans will not be defended from the antagonistic members of society by behaving themselves. They want to, they have been taught their whole lives that there’s nothing worth fighting for, that’s not the way civil society operates, even while they are amidst the most uncivil society ever devised in the homeland. They are being shown scenes of Nazi Germany, Stalinist Russia, Maoist China on their own streets, in their own courts of law, and they still refuse to see it.

They have endured a biological weapon unleashed on them; seen young, strong athletes drop dead on football fields across the land and they still don’t break free of the trap into which their mind has been captured. Invasions of illegals from every nation in the world have descended upon their borders and strolled through with the guidance of border patrol officers. This is at the behest of a single president, a single department in the government in violation of the will of the people. Up to 70% of which see this as an invasion, not calm, deliberative immigration policy. They recognize that terrorists and foreign military fighters have likely slipped in among the droves of illegals and are among them now, plotting their attacks. There is no accounting for who they are, where they went or whether the children they brought along as cover for their diabolical schemes are their biological children or just children being trafficked into the rich soil of perverse Americans.

That’s not enough, yet. Bankrupting the nation, stealing the Social Security funds involuntarily taken from millions of citizens wages over the course of their entire working lives and spending it on illegal’s benefits and providing them housing isn’t enough. The government, according to the people’s reactions, can provide safe haven for child sex traffickers, human traffickers, drug smugglers, terrorists and foreign armies and still not call it for what it is: treason.

They want an orderly and meaningful way to oppose those things while the republic is lost during the discussion. The important thing is, it doesn’t matter what they want, because the communist train continues down the track. The American wants to vote against these things, but the communists won’t let them. Stealing elections is how they came to power, they certainly aren’t going to allow people to vote them out of office or vote for people who would put an end to their crime spree. They have a very effective means of taking someone like Mike Johnson and within a month turning him to their purposes. They’ve been doing that for a long time and they’re good at it.

Here’s the flat truth: this cannot be done in an orderly and meaningful way. It has to be chaotic, it has to be sporadic, it has to be kinetic. I don’t want it that way, nor am I encouraging it. I’m a student of history and this is what history tells me, not only American history, but world history. No one went to war in our past, because they woke up one day and decided to go to war. They were bullied and pushed and shoved into accepting things that where wholly against their ideals, their morals, their sense of justice and when they had swallowed enough, realized that it was only going to get worse, that everyone they knew was going to be victimized by it, murdered to ensure it, their houses burned down for speaking against it (actually or metaphorically), they decided that it had to stop and the only way to do that was with war.

In his closer, he waxes a bit more optimistic, way more so than I find it possible to be at the moment. Elsewhere, Ace had this to say yesterday about what TL calls the Colorado Precedent:

This cannot go on. As I keep saying, blue jurisdictions cannot be allowed to prey on travelers from the hinterlands with these absurd criminal persecutions and mega-jackpot penalties for not being a progressive leftwing Democrat. WE ARE NOT A PREY SPECIES FOR THE PREDATORY, LUNATIC LEFT.

Oh, aren’t we?

Courts will have to change venues in politically sensitive cases — and if courts won’t allow it, the federal government will have to make them.

OOOHHHH yeah, there’s a winning formula all right: implore those who are oppressing us to end their oppression of us. Works beautifully every time it’s tried, right? And if for some unfathomable reason it doesn’t this time, why, we can always VOTE HARDERER!© at them, right?

Bah, humbug. Plug “SOIA punk band” into Duck Duck Go or Luxxle for an explanation of my post title, why I used it, and why I am declaring myself all done with politics for the next few days. It’s just the same old tired shite, over and over and over again, and I refuse to allow it to ruin the holiday for me this year.

I’ll most likely put up some more Christmas-song vids over the weekend, maybe a few funny memes and such-like, maybe a re-post or two from the “Greatest Hits” section, specifically the old Xmas essays. But as for looking in on any of my usual blog-haunts or op-ed aggregators trolling for things to write about here until after December 25th is in the rearview? Yeah, NO. Not this boy. Time for a vacay from all that, methinks.

Given my age and overall state of decrepitude, every Christmas could very well be my last, and I have no intention of letting the steadily-worsening state of affairs in what I call Amerika v2.0 impinge further on my holiday spirit than it already has. Life’s just too damned short to waste all of it on this Shinola, so I’m a-pulling the plug for a brief spell; if you feel the way I do about it, then I strongly advise y’all to do likewise.

Play with the dog; give the cat a nice, long tummy-rub; relax by the fireplace with a stiff cocktail; practice on the trumpet/violin/guitar/piano/whatever; give the kids/grandkids a long, tight hug; enjoy a nice home-cooked meal; read a good book, instead. Provided you aren’t trapped in some stinking, violent urban hellhole, just step outside and breathe the crisp, clean air on Christmas morn if nothing else. Keeping TEH OUTRAGE™ cranked up to eleven (“It’s one louder, isn’t it?“) every minute of every day just ain’t healthy, and that’s a fact.

Irregardless (sorry—heh), a most merry Christmas to all of you, be ye CF Lifer, lurker, or the noob-iest of noobs. God bless us, every one.

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Christmas music, forsooth!

As we come down the Christmas home-stretch, I thought I’d give y’all a little something special tonight.

Yep, that’s your humble host crooning that one, backed by the ever-fabulous Belmont Playboys. The audio was recorded, using acoustic instruments, on a crappy little hand-held cassette recorder at the pre-refurbishment Belk Theater adjacent to what used to be the old Carolina Theater on Tryon Street, where none other than Elvis himself performed back in 1956 on his drive to becoming the once and forever King of Rock and Roll. The video was shot (and later edited) by our old friend John Autry, former CLT city councilman and current NC Congresscritter, at the Van Landingham Estate in the heart of Plaza-Midwood.

The shirt I’m wearing was actually my brother’s, who probably still has it hanging in his closet. It was a little snug on me, there having been somewhat more of me then than there is now. John didn’t care for the two shirts I had brought along for the shoot, thinking it would be better if the front-guy wore something more colorful and less drab than my own threads.

You graybeards may recognize the TV set in the intro as being from the long-defunct Nashville Network’s old morning show, whatever it was called. It’s for real, not spliced in or otherwise faked: TNN aired our “Blue Christmas” vid for like three years hand-running at Christmastime, which definitely made our days that much more merry and bright. The above was taped on VHS the first time it ran by my old girlfriend Wendy’s mom, then converted to digital several years back by some local service our drummer Mark found.

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Moar Christmas tuneage

Tonight’s musical offering is “When Christmas Comes To Town,” a lovely, affecting little song from the soundtrack of the 2004 film The Polar Express. Background:

The Polar Express is a 2004 American animated adventure fantasy film directed by Robert Zemeckis, who co-wrote the screenplay with William Broyles Jr., based on the 1985 children’s book of the same name by Chris Van Allsburg. It stars Tom Hanks in multiple roles, with Daryl Sabara, Nona Gaye, Jimmy Bennett, and Eddie Deezen in supporting roles. The film features human characters animated using live action and motion capture computer animation, with sequences for the latter taking place from June 2003 to May 2004. Set on Christmas Eve, it tells the story of a young boy who sees a mysterious train bound for the North Pole stop outside his window and is invited aboard by its conductor. He joins other children as they embark on a journey to visit Santa Claus preparing for Christmas.

The Polar Express premiered at the Chicago International Film Festival on October 13, 2004, and was theatrically released in the United States on November 10, 2004, by Warner Bros. Pictures. The film received mixed reviews from critics and initially grossed $286 million against a record-breaking $165–170 million budget, which was the biggest sum for an animated feature at the time. Later re-releases helped propel the film’s gross to $314 million worldwide, and it was later listed in the 2006 Guinness World Records as the first all-digital capture film. The Polar Express is also the last film appearance for Michael Jeter before his death and is dedicated to his memory.

Hanks optioned the book in 1999 with the hopes of playing the conductor and Santa Claus. One of the conditions of the sale was that the resulting film not be animated. Zemeckis, however, felt that a live-action version was unfeasible, claiming that it “would look awful, and it would be impossible – it would cost $1 billion instead of $160 million.” Zemeckis felt that such a version would rob the audience of the art style of the book which he felt was “so much a part of the emotion of the story”. The two acquired the rights to the book the following year. In order to keep his vision a new process was created by which actors would be filmed with motion capture equipment in a black box stage which would then be animated to make the resulting film. Hanks stated that this method of working was “actually a return to a type of acting that acting in films does not allow you to do”, comparing the process to performing a play in the round. The idea of a Scrooge puppet was conceived when Zemeckis looked at his childhood toys, one of which was a puppet.

Hanks plays five roles in the film including that of a small child (whose voice would later be dubbed in by Daryl Sabara). Initially Zemeckis considered having him play every role, but after trying this, Hanks grew exhausted, and they whittled down the number. Principal photography of the motion-capture sequences began in June 2003, and wrapped in May 2004.

The soundtrack of the film, titled The Polar Express: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack, was released on November 2, 2004, by Reprise Records, Warner Music Group and Warner Sunset Records. The song, “Believe” was written by Glen Ballard and Alan Silvestri and was nominated for Best Original Song at the 77th Academy Awards. It was sung at the 77th Academy Awards show by original performer Josh Groban with Beyoncé and won a Grammy Award in 2006.

The album was certified Gold by the RIAA in November 2007. Having sold 724,000 copies in the United States, it is the best-selling film soundtrack/holiday album hybrid since Nielsen SoundScan started tracking music sales in 1991.

Most of the original orchestral score featured in the film was not released on the soundtrack and has never been released. The soundtrack mostly comprises only songs featured in the film. A limited number of promotional “For Your Consideration” CDs, intended to showcase the film’s score to reviewers of the film, were released in 2005. This CD contained nearly the complete score, but none of the film’s songs. Various bootleg versions of the soundtrack, combining both the official soundtrack album and the orchestral-only CD, have since surfaced.

Much more at the link, including an interesting architectural side-note I hadn’t known about before.

The buildings at the North Pole in the film represent an earlier era in American railroading. Building design drew inspiration from the Pullman neighborhood in Chicago, home of a railroad car manufacturer, the Pullman Company.

Huh, how ’bout that. Anyways, on to the embed.

Having grown up with Charlie Brown, the Grinch, and various other 60’s Christmas TV special classics—not to mention the all-time greatest Christmas flick, Capra’s unforgettable It’s A Wonderful Life—I didn’t think all that highly of Polar Express the first time I saw it. I mean, the animation was amazing, the musical numbers were incredibly well-done, the story was cute enough, but still, my all-in-all reaction was just kind of…MEH. But after repeated viewings it did grow on me, and now I very much dig it.

Urethra, I have found it!

As Kelly Bundy used to say. Ladies and germs,  I give you what just might be the greatest Christmas tune in history.

Via the AoSHQ ONT.

Update! Another superb AoSHQ find, this one via Weasel’s Sunday Gun Thread.

As you might guess from the screen grab, Liberal Tears appears to be for real. The blurb puts it straight:

DESCRIPTION
Guns have only two enemies; Rust and Liberals. Liberal Tears Gun Oil protects against both. We have bottled Liberal Tears to create a CLP that gives you guaranteed 2nd Amendment protection.

I hope the folks behind LT make a million bazillion dollars off the idea.

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Moar Christmas tunage

Man, can these kids sing or WHAT?!?

Although I picked this up from that Irish Christmas music channel I mentioned last week, strictly speaking the absolutely gorgeous Pie Jesu isn’t actually a Christmas song.

“Pie Jesu” (/ˈpiː.eɪ ˈjeɪ.zuː, -suː/ PEE-ay-YAY-zu; original Latin: “Pie Iesu” /ˈpi.e ˈje.su/) is a text from the final couplet of the hymn “Dies irae”, and is often included in musical settings of the Requiem Mass as a motet. The phrase means “pious Jesus” in the vocative.

The settings of the Requiem Mass by Luigi Cherubini, Antonin Dvořák, Gabriel Fauré, Maurice Duruflé, John Rutter, Karl Jenkins, Kim André Arnesen and Fredrik Sixten include a “Pie Jesu” as an independent movement. Decidedly, the best known is the “Pie Jesu” from Fauré’s Requiem. Camille Saint-Saëns, who died in 1921, said of Fauré’s “Pie Jesu”: “Just as Mozart’s is the only ‘Ave verum corpus’, this is the only ‘Pie Jesu’.”

Andrew Lloyd Webber’s setting of “Pie Jesu” in his Requiem (1985) has also become well known and has been widely recorded, including by Sarah Brightman, Charlotte Church, Jackie Evancho, Sissel Kyrkjebø, Ylvis, Marie Osmond, Anna Netrebko, and others. Performed by Sarah Brightman and Paul Miles-Kingston, it was a certified Silver hit in the UK in 1985.

The mood set by the above achingly-beautiful Angelis performance of Lloyd-Webber’s version is as placid and soul-soothing as Christmas morn itself, making it close enough to Christmas music to do for me. Translation from the Latin:

Pious Jesus,
Who takes away the sins of the world,
Give them rest.

Lamb of God,
Who takes away the sins of the world,
Give them rest,
Everlasting
Rest.

If there really are “choirs of angels” waiting to sing us to our Heavenly rest, this HAS to be exactly what they sound like.

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Product: ENDORSED

With all my heart and soul.

Saw that this morning, and I haven’t stopped laughing since. Having broken the bank and gone without eating a cpl-three days last month to buy my musically-gifted daughter a 70s-vintage King Tempo trumpet off of eBay, to be specific:

Nickel plated, with raw-brass tuning slides and valve caps for contrast, in A-1 shape for its age—a bit of corrosion at the grab-points from skin oils and/or sweat, along with some very minor scratches and scuffs, as one must expect with anything this old. The case is in slightly worse shape, alas; as you can see from the pic, the felt has separated from the shell up by the grab handle. But no worries: my friend Greg is generously donating his like-new, barely used Benge case to make up for it.

I played a King myself during my band career and for many years after (a 601, if I remember right), and my poor horn was one hell of a lot more battered and beat-up by the time I parted with it than this fine instrument is. Hey, the great Harry James was a King man throughout his illustrious career—what better endorsement could one possibly want?

So you can bet your sweet bippy my young ‘un will be getting herself a BrassTache from dear old dad this Christmas to adorn and enliven her noble old King. She inherited the same silly, juvenile sense of humor her old man has, so I know she’s gonna love it all to pieces. And laugh herself sick over it, like papa did.

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What, you actually thought I WASN’T gonna re-run this one?

Since it seems to be my night for embedding music vids and all.

It’s Cantus, so of course it’s incredible, as one would surely expect. But this year, I’d like to offer a few words on the song itself.

IMHO, “The Little Drummer Boy” is one of the most underrated of all the trad Christmas carols, maybe THE most. I mean, seriously, now: the lyrics are simple but deeply touching; the melody is nothing short of gorgeous, the vocal harmonies ditto; the concept itself is a paragon of creativity, imagination, and understated elegance, as affecting as it is unassuming, even humble. The song gradually crescendos from a pianissimo murmur to a crashing, soul-stirring, fortississimo climax, leaving the listener practically gasping for breath, joyously drained by the end.

The final stanzas exemplify what it is I’m talking about here:

Shall I play for you, pa rum pum pum pum
On my drum?

Mary nodded, pa rum pum pum pum
The ox and lamb kept time, pa rum pum pum pum
I played my drum for Him, pa rum pum pum pum
I played my best for Him, pa rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum

Then He smiled at me, pa rum pum pum pum
Me and my drum

There, see what I mean? Over lo, these many years I’ve heard God-only-knows how many renditions and arrangements of “Drummer Boy,” and for the life of me I can’t remember a single one I disliked. A little background info:

The song was originally titled “Carol of the Drum”. While speculation has been made that the song is very loosely based on the Czech carol “Hajej, nynjej”, the chair of the music department at (composer Katherine Kennicott) Davis’s alma mater Wellesley College claims otherwise. In an interview with Music Department Chair Claire Fontijn, the College writes:

Inspiration for “The Little Drummer Boy” came to Davis in 1941. “[One day], when she was trying to take a nap, she was obsessed with this song that came into her head and it was supposed to have been inspired by a French song, ‘Patapan,’” explained Fontijn. “And then ‘patapan’ translated in her mind to ‘pa-rum-pum-pum,’ and it took on a rhythm.” The result was “The Little Drummer Boy.”

Davis’s interest was in producing material for amateur and girls’ choirs: Her manuscript is set as a chorale, in which the tune is in the soprano melody with alto harmony, tenor and bass parts producing the “drum rhythm” and a keyboard accompaniment “for rehearsal only”. It is headed “Czech Carol freely transcribed by K.K.D.”, these initials then crossed out and replaced with “C.R.W. Robinson”, a name under which Davis sometimes published.

“Carol of the Drum” appealed to the Austrian Trapp Family Singers, who first brought the song to wider prominence when they recorded it for Decca Records in 1951 on their first album for the label. Their version was credited solely to Davis and published by Belwin-Mills.

In 1957, the song was recorded with an altered arrangement by Jack Halloran for his Jack Halloran Singers on their Dot Records album Christmas Is A-Comin’. This arrangement is the one commonly sung today. However, the recording was not released as a single that year. In response to this, Dot producer Henry Onorati, who left Dot to become the new head of 20th Century-Fox Records in 1958, introduced the song to Harry Simeone. When 20th Century-Fox Records contracted with Simeone to record a Christmas album, Simeone hired many of the same singers that had sung in Halloran’s version and made a near-identical recording with his newly created Harry Simeone Chorale. It was released as a single in 1958, and later on the album, Sing We Now of Christmas, later retitled The Little Drummer Boy. The only difference between Simeone’s and Halloran’s versions, was that Simeone’s contained finger cymbals, and the song’s title had been changed to “The Little Drummer Boy”. Simeone and Onorati claimed and received joint composition credits with Davis, although the two did not actually compose or arrange it. Halloran never received a joint writing credit for the song, something his family disagrees with.

The album and the song were an enormous success, with the single scoring in the top 40 of the U.S. music charts from 1958 to 1962. In 1965, Simeone, who had signed with Kapp Records in 1964, re-recorded a new version of the song for his album O’ Bambino: The Little Drummer Boy. This version was recorded in stereo, had a slightly slower tempo, and contained different-sounding cymbals. Simeone recorded the song a third and final time in 1981, for an album, again titled The Little Drummer Boy, on the budget Holiday Records label.

Harry Simeone’s 1965 version is almost certainly the most widely-known and familiar to the majority of us; even Rip Van Winkle has likely heard that one by now. As much as I’ve always adored “Drummer Boy,” I confess I haven’t heard the Trapp Family’s rendition (yes, THAT Trapp family); in fact, I didn’t even know they’d recorded it, so tragically unhip and out-of-the-loop I am.

Nevertheless, it’s a lovely piece of music, in all its various forms and performative permutations.

The more I read up on the early pop-era standards, the more I have to just sit back in awe and marvel, goggle-eyed and mouth agape, at Mark Steyn’s capacious catalog of “Steynmusic” posts, a great many of which have been excerpted here. The man is a veritable encyclopedia when it comes to the topic, and writes so brilliantly about the music often referred to in show-biz circles as The Great American Songbook. Steyn’s abiding affection for the old chestnuts shines through in every sentence, at times approaching reverence for the songs, the unsung (heh, sorry) composers who wrote them, and the artists who performed and/or recorded them. As gifted a current-affairs/op-ed essayist as he definitely is, I sometimes can’t help thinking that his true calling is as a music critic and historian.

T’was the night before Christmas

And thru the White House
Not a creature was stirring
Not even a louse

An Alt Christmas Carol
The White House, Christmas Eve, 2023. Imagine the painfully lugubrious scene….

“Joe Biden” rattles around in the upstairs “residence” like a BB in a packing crate. Nobody is around besides a few secret service agents, so still at their posts they might as well be statuary. The Big Guy is all alone. His spouse, Dr. Jill, had enough of pretend caretaking quite a while ago, and flew off to Oprah’s place in Santa Barbara for counseling and commiseration. Hunter is Gawd-knows-where doing Gawd-knows-what.

“JB” shuffles out of the residence kitchen, where he just demolished a half gallon of Ben & Jerry’s Americone Dream® ice cream, against his doctor’s orders. His gall bladder writhes in revolt, sending a distress signal up the vagus nerve to the shriveled hypothalamus in his brain. A jumbled fugue of emotions — rage, fear, sexual arousal — quickens his step as he navigates by dead reckoning to the executive bedroom where he hurries to bed and falls into leaden slumber — only to be awakened by a cacophony of ringing bells. His eyelids roll open like shades in the windows of a skid row hotel room. Plangent moaning resounds as a mist emerges through the bedroom door and resolves into a mysterious figure garbed in the raiment of the Ku Klux Klan.

“Joe Biden” shrinks under the luxury Boll & Branch signature duvet— acquired when the agriculture minister of Ukraine slipped him an envelope stuffed with 100 hryvnia notes. The spirit wails something that resembles the old Confederate anthem Eatin’ Goober Peas.

“Who are you spirit?” the quaking president asks.

“Why, I am your old pard from the Senate,” the ghost of Robert Byrd declares, removing the pointed hood to reveal his leonine head of hair and scowling face. “Why have you thrown our sacred borders wide open, suh? I should die a thousand times, and see Old Glory trampled in the dirt never to rise again than to see this beloved land of ours become degraded by race mongrels.”

“Y-y-you don’t uh-uh-understand,” “JB” says, his childhood stutter returning. “They are muh-muh-migrants from oppression and vuh-vuh-very fine people.”

“Fine people, my ass,” the former Senator from West Virginia cries and clears the dust of the sepulcher from his throat. “I will send three spirits to you this night as a review of what has been and what shall become, so beware….” And with that the spirit returns to mist and slips back out through the keyhole…

“Joe Biden” is shocked from slumber again as an attractive blond female ghost floats through the bedroom window.

“Don’t I know you?” he asks.

“Cad! That is the very line you used to pick me up on spring break in Nassau, 1966,” says “JB’s” first wife, Neilia Hunter. “Shall I show you the meretricious spectacle you made of our family after that truck driver on Limestone Road ended my life and your little daughter’s too!”

“No-o-o-o-o,” the president moans, but is magically transported to the Wilmington Hospital room where his banged-up boys, Beau and Hunter, are recovering from their injuries. A TV crew is present as “JB” emotes for the camera, a cruel victim of fate, he blubbers, who will yet conquer his grief and go on to forty years of electoral victories and the sedulous gathering of tribute from “donors” far and wide to soften the blow of his loss. The room dims…

Read on for the other spirit visitations: second being the martyred Saint George of Fentanyl, complete with Neegrow dialect deftly translated from the original ghetto-ese, representing the Ghost Of Christmas Present; Christmas Yet To Come I’ll leave unnamed so as not to spoil the surprise for ya, but take my word for it, t’is a consummation devoutly to be wished. Kunstler uncorks his by no means inconsiderable writerly chops and lets ‘em really soar in this one, and it’s a joy and a wonder to behold.

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Christmas moozik

Borepatch tells us that A) Allison Krause is a national treasure, as is the peerless Yo Yo Ma, and B) this song is, and I quote, “magical.” He is perfectly correct, on all counts.

As it happens, I heard this one over the weekend on the classical music station as I was trying to come up with a reason to drag myself out of bed; it stopped me dead in my tracks, I was helpless to do anything but just lie there and take it in. The haunting melody of this rendition of the traditional Irish carol (VERY Irish, t’is; an orchestral version is here, if you’re interested in comparing and contrasting) may seem a bit, um, mournful for Christmas, which usually brings to mind more merry, celebratory, light-hearted music for most of us.

But no matter; this song is simply gorgeous, the performances stellar, and the arrangement is nothing short of spectacular, a piece of near-divine musical inspiration. Well done to all involved, and thanks to Borepatch for the reminder.

Update! Any overgrown kid out there like meself who just can’t get enough of that Christmas-y stuff is hereby advised to check out a fine, fine live365 stream I’ve had running pretty much continually since I came across it over the weekend: ChristmasFM Classical. After three days, there’ve been precious few duds so far—if any, even, a point which I am not entirely prepared to concede.

Ironically enough in light of the subject matter of another of tonight’s posts, it appears from ChristmasFM’s own website that the station just happens to be based guess where.

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Season’s greetings

Happy Thanksgiving to all CF Lifers: old hands, newbie shavetails, lurkers, skulkers, stalkers, creepers, peepers, fanatics, and freaks. As of right now, I’m declaring the official opening of the Christmas season, my favorite time of year for my whole life long. So how’s about a little music to celebrate the occasion, then?

Rest assured there’ll be lots more Christmas music to come over the next month around here. I absolutely love it, from the beloved old carols in every Christian’s hymnbook, to the classic pop/secular hits which everybody’s heard a blue million times, to the 60’s Christmas TV-special soundtracks. Rock instrumental combos, full orchestras, mass choirs, swing bands, brass choir, men’s-chorus outfits like Chanticleer and Cantus: you name it, I still adore ‘em all, and I always will. And if you’re one of those grumpy professional misanthropes for whom there’s nothing more enjoyable than kvetching and cavilling to all within earshot about how sick and damned tired you are of Christmas music—well, I feel sorry for your miserable ass, and I hope someday you find a palliative for your wretched disgruntlement.

Update! WRSA finds more positive proof that Leftists ruin everything.

WEFThanksgiving

Mmm-mmm-GOOD. Dig in, everybody!

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If you are in fact a legit hooman bean desirous of registering yourself a CF user name so as to be able to comment only to find yourself caught up as collateral damage in one of my irregularly (un)scheduled sweeps for hinky registration attempts, please shoot me a kite at the email addy over in the right sidebar and let me know so’s I can get ya fixed up manually.

ALSO NOTE: You MUST use a valid, legit email address in order to successfully register, the new anti-spam software I installed last night requires it. My thanks to Barry for all his help sorting this mess out last night.

Comments appear entirely at the whim of the guy who pays the bills for this site and may be deleted, ridiculed, maliciously edited for purposes of mockery, or otherwise pissed over as he in his capricious fancy sees fit. The CF comments section is pretty free-form and rough and tumble; tolerance level for rowdiness and misbehavior is fairly high here, but is NOT without limit.

Management is under no obligation whatever to allow the comments section to be taken over and ruined by trolls, Leftists, and/or other oxygen thieves, and will take any measures deemed necessary to prevent such. Conduct yourself with the merest modicum of decorum, courtesy, and respect and you'll be fine. Pick pointless squabbles with other commenters, fling provocative personal insults, issue threats, or annoy the host (me) and...you won't.

Should you find yourself sanctioned after running afoul of the CF comments policy as stated and feel you have been wronged, please download and complete the Butthurt Report form below in quadruplicate; retain one copy for your personal records and send the others to the email address posted in the right sidebar.

Please refrain from whining, sniveling, and/or bursting into tears and waving your chubby fists around in frustrated rage, lest you suffer an aneurysm or stroke unnecessarily. Your completed form will be reviewed and your complaint addressed whenever management feels like getting around to it. Thank you.

CF Glossary

ProPol: Professional Politician

Vichy GOPe: Putative "Republicans" who talk a great game but never can seem to find a hill they consider worth dying on; Quislings, Petains, Benedicts, backstabbers, fake phony frauds

Fake Phony Fraud(s), S'faccim: two excellent descriptors coined by the late great WABC host Bob Grant which are interchangeable, both meaning as they do pretty much the same thing

Mordor On The Potomac: Washington, DC

The Enemy: shitlibs, Progtards, Leftards, Swamp critters, et al ad nauseum

Burn, Loot, Murder: what the misleading acronym BLM really stands for

pAntiFa: an alternative spelling of "fascist scum"

"Mike Hendrix is, without a doubt, the greatest one-legged blogger in the world." ‐Henry Chinaski

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"America is at that awkward stage. It's too late to work within the system, but too early to shoot the bastards."
Claire Wolfe, 101 Things to Do 'Til the Revolution

Claire's Cabal—The Freedom Forums

FREEDOM!!!

"There are men in all ages who mean to govern well, but they mean to govern. They promise to be good masters, but they mean to be masters."
Daniel Webster

“When I was young I was depressed all the time. But suicide no longer seemed a possibility in my life. At my age there was very little left to kill.”
Charles Bukowski

“A slave is one who waits for someone to come and free him.”
Ezra Pound

“The illusion of freedom will continue as long as it’s profitable to continue the illusion. At the point where the illusion becomes too expensive to maintain, they will just take down the scenery, they will pull back the curtains, they will move the tables and chairs out of the way and you will see the brick wall at the back of the theater.”
Frank Zappa

“The right of a nation to kill a tyrant in case of necessity can no more be doubted than to hang a robber, or kill a flea.”
John Adams

"A society of sheep must in time beget a government of wolves."
Bertrand de Jouvenel

"It is terrible to contemplate how few politicians are hanged."
GK Chesterton

"I predict that the Bush administration will be seen by freedom-wishing Americans a generation or two hence as the hinge on the cell door locking up our freedom. When my children are my age, they will not be free in any recognizably traditional American meaning of the word. I’d tell them to emigrate, but there’s nowhere left to go. I am left with nauseating near-conviction that I am a member of the last generation in the history of the world that is minimally truly free."
Donald Sensing

"The only way to live free is to live unobserved."
Etienne de la Boiete

"History does not long entrust the care of freedom to the weak or the timid."
Dwight D. Eisenhower

"To put it simply, the Left is the stupid and the insane, led by the evil. You can’t persuade the stupid or the insane and you had damn well better fight the evil."
Skeptic

"There is no better way to stamp your power on people than through the dead hand of bureaucracy. You cannot reason with paperwork."
David Black, from Turn Left For Gibraltar

"If the laws of God and men, are therefore of no effect, when the magistracy is left at liberty to break them; and if the lusts of those who are too strong for the tribunals of justice, cannot be otherwise restrained than by sedition, tumults and war, those seditions, tumults and wars, are justified by the laws of God and man."
John Adams

"The limits of tyranny are prescribed by the endurance of those whom they oppress."
Frederick Douglass

"Give me the media and I will make of any nation a herd of swine."
Joseph Goebbels

“I hope we once again have reminded people that man is not free unless government is limited. There’s a clear cause and effect here that is as neat and predictable as a law of physics: As government expands, liberty contracts.”
Ronald Reagan

"Ain't no misunderstanding this war. They want to rule us and aim to do it. We aim not to allow it. All there is to it."
NC Reed, from Parno's Peril

"I just want a government that fits in the box it originally came in."
Bill Whittle

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