I was a casualty in the War on Christmas.

'Twas last night at the checkout counter at Whole Foods. As is our wont — or Meade's wont, anyway — we'd brought back Whole Foods shopping bags for refilling. One of the bags — probably reused 3 or 4 times — a handle had torn lose.

I said, "Foiled in our effort at recycling." Then — because I'm always looking for the positive side of things and noticing the red-and-green image of a string of Christmas lights on the new bag — "At least the new one is a Christmas bag."

The cashier said: "Holiday bag."

"To celebrate the holidays in his public high school science lab, Stuart Ross Rosenthal decided he would make a 'chemist-tree.'"

"He pieced together a colorful branching array of test tubes and Erlenmeyer flasks, and a few antique chemical stock bottles, filled them with various salt and mineral solutions, and then stacked them on a stand of porcelain rings. After encircling the base with a wintry-white towel, he placed a few glistening rock 'presents' under the tree and surrounded them with Bunsen burner 'candles.'"

And to celebrate the holidays in my public internet creative writing class, continue the story. What happens next?

In the actual case of the high school chemistry teacher — Stuart Ross Rosenthal — there was no discord and divisiveness and certainly no — to use James Madison's phrase — torrents of blood. Rosenthal (who's Jewish) is able to affably quip:

"If people say, 'Oh, I like your Christmas tree,' I say, 'It's a chemist-tree – nondenominational... People can argue about religion, and they can even argue with science – but you can't argue with scientific glassware."

Oh, yeah? If you are working on the creative writing exercise in my class, I'll bet you can concoct — or decoct...



... a vicious fight over the the scientific glassware. Rosenthal has substituted an exaltation of science for the celebration of Christ! This is the government's insidious effort to establish a religion of secularism!

The uproar over "gay" Christmas lights in Rome.

"A rainbow-flag theme has been selected for the traditional lights along the city's main shopping street, the Via del Corso. The lights run for almost a mile long."

The right-wing Fratelli d'Italia (Italian Brothers) party labelled the decision "provocative and ideological."

They called for the lights to be replaced with ones showing the three colors of the Italian flag, red, white and green.

Does the expression of Italian national patriotism have anything more to do with Christmas than celebrating the multiplicity of sexual orientations?

"Religious freedom does not mean freedom from religion."

"People of faith too often feel they can't express their faith publicly. And if they dare display it, they find themselves under attack from individuals and organizations that have nothing to do with them or their communities for that matter," said Rick Perry, signing the "Merry Christmas" bill.

One might wonder why such a law is necessary. Republican state Rep. Dwayne Bohac, who introduced the bill, explained how he had become upset upon hearing from his 8-year-old son that the Christmas tree at his public school was referred to as "a holiday tree."

Bohac said he brought his concerns to the school district office, where he was told words like "Christmas" weren't used at the school because officials were afraid of being sued.

As if, now, no one's going to get sued. Or is that the point? If the school officials avoid saying "Merry Christmas" and having Christmas trees because they are litigation averse, there's never a lawsuit. I think Perry et al. would love to have a lawsuit about this, even if they think they will lose it. There's political gain in any legal outcome.

And yet, even with this law, those officials might still avoid saying "Merry Christmas" and having Christmas trees because of timidity about lawsuits. It's not as if the new statute requires Christmas trees and Christmas greetings.

Perhaps all that ever happens is this political theater with Rick Perry celebrating Christmas in June. Perhaps that was the point.

ADDED: Perry's phrase "organizations that have nothing to do with them or their communities" is sending out the bat-signal to Madison's Freedom From Religion Foundation. 

Maria Shriver still has her Christmas lights up.

And the neighbors are annoyed.

We're told the neighbors haven't approached Maria directly yet because they like her and don't want to hurt her feelings ... but in typical passive aggressive neighborly fashion, they're hoping word will make its way back to her.

How do you solve a problem like Maria? How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?

What Ben Affleck said about marriage at the Oscars and why people are criticizing him.

Accepting the award for Best Picture, he said (addressing his wife):

"I want to thank you for working on our marriage for 10 Christmases. It’s good, it is work, but it’s the best kind of work, and there’s no one I’d rather work with."

What's wrong with that?

The criticism centers around this statement as lacking in cuteness, and focusing on the negative. It wasn’t the “right forum” for this type of declaration, it was a possible indicator that “something is wrong” in the marriage, he should have just stuck to “I love you and adore you and you’re perfect” -- basically whining that a major Hollywood star was uncomfortably honest about his relationship and said overly blunt things about marriage in one of the most public forums on the planet.

Obviously, that's a summary from someone who doesn't agree with the criticism.

The critics are imagining themselves in the position of the wife and thinking they'd want to hear a nice compliment. But I bet Affleck planned his speech, with the help of his wife Jennifer Garner, and that the 2 of them decided they had an excellent opportunity to speak to everyone about marriage and this was the message they wanted to give: Work on it everyone. We — the pretty people, who seem so ideal — we have to work on it and we do work on it.

The line is crafted. 10 years was edited into 10 Christmases. It's been years and it's included family traditions and deep values that take a lot of attention. The first sentence creates some tension. Is he saying that the wife took care of the home front, making his life stable and pleasurable, while he went out in the world and furthered his career? The second sentence prolongs the tension — It’s good, it is work, but it’s the best kind of work — and we finally get to the resolution: there’s no one I’d rather work with. That means he is also doing this work. And that's subtly stated. He didn't praise himself as he said those last few words which reveal that he is a partner in the work. It's all carefully about her.

Well, there's also the "no one" — the nonexistent person he would prefer to "work with," that is, to have a marriage with, because it's marriage that equals work. The temptation of adultery is that it looks like a vacation from a marriage that seems like work. Imagine the opportunities strewn in front of Ben Affleck. There's a twist on that last line that creates anxiety for the sensitive listener: There's no one other than Jennifer that he'd like to work with (be in a marriage with), but does he ever play?

"The governor knew what he had to do. He confiscated their sports equipment..."

"... telling them that if they insisted on celebrating Christmas as a 'matter of devotion' they could do so privately at home, 'but there should be no gaming or reveling in the streets.'"

"Have yourself a merry little Christmas / It may be your last/ Next year we may all be living in the past."

The original lyric to "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," which I learned about after happening to catch the tail end of "Meet Me in St. Louis" while channel surfing last night. We happened to drop in just as Judy Garland was about to sing the much-loved Christmas tune, which might have been less-loved if Judy hadn't pushed for happier lyrics. The line, revised, is "Let your heart be light/Next year all our troubles will be out of sight."



What Judy and Margaret O'Brien are so sad about there is moving to New York. They love St. Louis.

Judy's version, in turn, was insufficiently happy for Frank Sinatra, who got the line "Until then we'll have to muddle through somehow" changed to "Hang a shining star upon the highest bough." Here's Frank. I think "muddle through" would have suited him — that edge of sadness. And "bough" is a silly word.

There's another place in the song with alternate lyrics: "Through the years, we all will be together if the fates allow," was originally "if the Lord allows." Judy sang "the fates," but returning to "the Lord" is something you can always do.

Meadhouse, kinkaidified...

... by Chip Ahoy:



... who explains how he did it here.

This is my original, mere reality, deemed too bleak by those who find fulfillment in the work of Thomas Kinkade:



And here's a genuine Kinkade Christmas scene, whose deer look familiar... except it seems that Chip took the trouble to give the older deer an upturned tail to match the fawn's. It's that kind of attention to detail that turns our hearts aglow, like windows in that humble cottage... there, across yon half-frozen stream:

Did you get what you wanted?

Like I did, back in 1958:

Kerry Gordon — "sensational scientist!" — asked by Sam Wilson — "a wastrel wordsmith" — to fulfill his "one wish: wedlock!"

"Dare she pursue this preposterous proposition?"

See all "32 Fables from the Foreseeable Future," in PDF, here.

"Seal songs finally make sense...."

"No: Ennui...."

Forecast: "prancing party ponies with precipitation of presents."

Merry Christmas!

Christmas Eve.

Merry Christmas!

The end of a Christmas caroling tradition.

The NY Post reports:

The tradition began in the late 1970s when cabaret singer John Wallowitch would walk by Berlin’s [NYC] house and warble “White Christmas” while walking his dog, Winnie. Five years on, in 1983, he had added a group of fellow performers, and Berlin, then 95, famously welcomed the carolers inside for cocoa and cookies. They sang in his home’s beautiful ballroom from then on. After Berlin’s death, when the house became Luxembourg’s consulate and permanent mission to the UN, the tradition continued.

Berlin died 23 years ago, so that's a long time for Luxembourg to put up with this intrusion, but having done it for so long, you'd think the traditional would be so deeply internalized that they would never let it go. And how many other ways does Luxembourg have to inspire love here in America?

But Luxembourg Consul-General Jean-Claude Knebeler explains he was forced to stuff the ballroom with office equipment because his country was elected as a non-permanent member of the UN Security Council, and so is housing more staff for two years.

Security Council?! That's the excuse?

Pat Sajak condemned as a pronunciation Nazi.

When "seven swans a-swimmin'" for "seven swans a-swimming" costs Navy Intel Specialist Renee Durette $4,000.

The "a-" beginning makes it seem as though you should be doing Southern American dialect, but "The 12 Days of Christmas" is set in an English aristocratic milieu (with lords and ladies).

More importantly, "Wheel of Fortune" is all about letters, so obviously they've got to be pedantic about getting all the letters.

Anyway... one more reason to be sick of that song. Or do you like it? Here it is by Bela Fleck and the Flecktones.

At the Look-at-the-Tree Café...

... aw, look at the tree.

Dancing with the Devil... for Christmas...

... in simpler times:



"I'm not completely convinced that your intentions are honorable."

At the Black Dog Café...

... there's lots of bright, cold... mud. And I don't know what made you lie down in that muddy puddle — again and again. But you brought it home, and you're decorating our house with it... in mid-December. Meade got out the vacuum cleaner, when maybe what we really need is the Christmas tree... in that box, down there in the basement.

"And after the miracle birth, Joseph and Mary rejoiced by eating the giant Cheeto."

Regretsy... making fun of Etsy, which I was just reading about here ("Etsy Crafts A Strategy For Staying Handmade And Profitable").

"[T]he less comfortable you are during the seasonal shopping spree, the more money you’ll spend."

"So stores crank up music, repeat the same songs, over and over again, pipe in smells, race shoppers around to far-flung points of purchase and clog their heads with confusing offers. All of which makes it more likely we’ll part more readily with more money."

Oh, really? I'd say it makes it much more likely that smart, sensitive people will shop on line. (Preferably, going in through the Althouse portal.) You can play any music you want, enjoy blissful silence, or — as I'm doing — listen to your loved one softly singing "Golden Slumbers."

Side note: I love the illustration by Sam Vanallemeersch (at the first link).