The Explanation
(for those who require one)

And, of course, that is what all of this is -- all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs -- that song, endlesly reincarnated -- born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket '88', that Buick 6 -- same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness."
-- Nick Tosches, Where Dead Voices Gather

Happy X-mas to All Our Readers!


Christmas Tree
(Andy Warhol; 1958)

7 comments :

Vanwall said...

Happy Crimbo, Tom laddie!

Pop9 said...

Happy Christmas to each member of the team.

Johnny Pierre said...

Merry Christmas to you! Thanks for another year of such great blog posts!

Mr DeBakey said...

Jooasiph an Mary wo paid aht an' covered i' dust,
The'd ta get ta Bethlehem that neet, it wor a must.
Ivverybody 'ed ta register an' each 'ed ta sign the'r name,
It wor a government order, nooah messin', it wodn't a game,

Jooasiph wo capped ah many fowk ther' wor i' t' streets.
T' sun 'ed gone dahn an' it wor one o' t' dahrkest o' neets.
It wo reight 'ahrd gooin', trampin' up an' dahn i' t' gloom,
All t' inns wo full, the' wor 'evvin' bother gerrin' a room.

Mary wor 'eavy wi' bairn, Jooasiph 'ed ta ger 'er a bed.
Throo t' dahrkness the' cud just see a leet shinin' ahead.
" 'ev yer gor a room," Jooasiph said, " or a place ta rest?"
"T' only place Ah've got is t' stable, it weern't be best."

At leeast the'd fahnd sumweer ta rest the'r 'eds,
But the'd 'ev ta mak do wi' straw for the'r beds.
Durin' that neet, Lord Jesus ahr Saviour wo born.
That day is knawn ivveryweer as Christmas Morn.

In swaddlin' clooas, ahr Lord Jesus, in a manger lay
An' ahtside a breet new star made neet as leet as day.
Follerin' this star, t' three Wise Men began ta tire,
W'en it stopped ovver t' stable weer Jesus wor i' t' byre.

Gold an' Frankincense an' Myrrh the' gave to ahr King,
The' wo t' finest gifts that t' three Wise Men cud bring.
'evvin' paid the'r 'omage, they all knelt dahn ta pray,
Well ahtside, t' angels sang carols all throo t' day.

by Fred Hirst

Mr DeBakey said...

That piece above is the Christmas story in the langue de Yorkshire.

I heard it read on CBC's "As it Happens" decades ago by, I assume, Mr Hirst.
I thought it was pretty cool then
And still do

All the best and
remember each is worth 1000 words

MadHatter said...

Merry Christmas to you, too!

keenast said...

...using the opportunity to thank you for your wonderful wonderful blog that gives so much to enjoy.