Motley Moose – Archive

Since 2008 – Progress Through Politics

Merry Christmas, Moose!

America was founded in part by a bunch of Christians whose kids couldn’t celebrate Christmas in school Back Home and who were also fleeing from all the gay people in the military. While all that may not have worked out so well for them in the long run, they brought with them the tradition of Christmas and for this we thank them.

Today we celebrate the birth of a child who grew up to argue that people should be nice to each other. We remember our forefolks’ hope that lengthening days would bring relief and new life. We stop to look around us, perhaps, and note that our own lives are more full of joy than we might have realized. We weigh our struggles against those of our fellows, our neighbors, our distant kin and people far away.

For all of us this day is sometime in our life a hard day, where we are the ones who need an open face and a warm embrace. All of us on this day will find ourselves at some point the one to offer that face, that hug, that hand.

Whether this is your year to nestle in the glow of family and friends, or to sit quietly alone, know that you are loved. You are part of a family that stretches around the world and into the depths of time. Where there is love there is hope, where there is hope there is joy to be found.

I wish you all the Very Merriest Christmas and all the best for a prosperous and peaceful New Year.

How’s your Holiday, Mooses?


Categories: Uncategorized.

/ 32 Comments

32 comments

  2. Strummerson

    that all of human history could be healed by recognizing divinity in a single, indigent, new-born infant in darkest winter…

    I’m probably the only Jew who has ever made it a personal tradition to read Milton’s lovely Nativity Ode every Christmas morning.  Hope all Moose who celebrate are having a joyous holiday.  (Milton is known for his musicality, so it works best read aloud and heard.  Give a few stanzas a shot.  You won’t be sorry.)

    On the Morning of Christs Nativity

    Compos’d 1629

    I

    THis is the Month, and this the happy morn

    Wherein the Son of Heav’ns eternal King,

    Of wedded Maid, and Virgin Mother born,

    Our great redemption from above did bring;

    For so the holy sages once did sing, [ 5 ]

    That he our deadly forfeit should release,

    And with his Father work us a perpetual peace.

    II

    That glorious Form, that Light unsufferable,

    And that far-beaming blaze of Majesty,

    Wherwith he wont at Heav’ns high Councel-Table, [ 10 ]

    To sit the midst of Trinal Unity,

    He laid aside; and here with us to be,

    Forsook the Courts of everlasting Day,

    And chose with us a darksom House of mortal Clay.

    III

    Say Heav’nly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein [ 15 ]

    Afford a present to the Infant God?

    Hast thou no vers, no hymn, or solemn strein,

    To welcom him to this his new abode,

    Now while the Heav’n by the Suns team untrod,

    Hath took no print of the approching light, [ 20 ]

    And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons bright?

    IV

    See how from far upon the Eastern rode

    The Star-led Wisards haste with odours sweet:

    O run, prevent them with thy humble ode,

    And lay it lowly at his blessed feet; [ 25 ]

    Have thou the honour first, thy Lord to greet,

    And joyn thy voice unto the Angel Quire,

    From out his secret Altar toucht with hallow’d fire.

    The Hymn

    I

    It was the Winter wilde,

    While the Heav’n-born-childe, [ 30 ]

    All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies;

    Nature in aw to him

    Had doff’t her gawdy trim,

    With her great Master so to sympathize:

    It was no season then for her [ 35 ]

    To wanton with the Sun her lusty Paramour.

    II

    Onely with speeches fair

    She woo’s the gentle Air

    To hide her guilty front with innocent Snow,

    And on her naked shame, [ 40 ]

    Pollute with sinfull blame,

    The Saintly Vail of Maiden white to throw,

    Confounded, that her Makers eyes

    Should look so neer upon her foul deformities.

    III

    But he her fears to cease, [ 45 ]

    Sent down the meek-eyd Peace,

    She crown’d with Olive green, came softly sliding

    Down through the turning sphear,

    His ready Harbinger,

    With Turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing, [ 50 ]

    And waving wide her mirtle wand,

    She strikes a universall Peace through Sea and Land.

    IV

    No War, or Battails sound

    Was heard the World around:

    The idle spear and shield were high up hung; [ 55 ]

    The hooked Chariot stood

    Unstain’d with hostile blood,

    The Trumpet spake not to the armed throng,

    And Kings sate still with awfull eye,

    As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by. [ 60 ]

    V

    But peacefull was the night

    Wherin the Prince of light

    His raign of peace upon the earth began:

    The Windes, with wonder whist,

    Smoothly the waters kist, [ 65 ]

    Whispering new joyes to the milde Ocean,

    Who now hath quite forgot to rave,

    While Birds of Calm sit brooding on the charmed wave.

    VI

    The Stars with deep amaze

    Stand fixt in stedfast gaze, [ 70 ]

    Bending one way their pretious influence,

    And will not take their flight,

    For all the morning light,

    Or Lucifer that often warn’d them thence;

    But in their glimmering Orbs did glow, [ 75 ]

    Untill their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go.

    VII

    And though the shady gloom

    Had given day her room,

    The Sun himself with-held his wonted speed,

    And hid his head for shame, [ 80 ]

    As his inferiour flame,

    The new-enlightn’d world no more should need;

    He saw a greater Sun appear

    Then his bright Throne, or burning Axletree could bear.

    VIII

    The Shepherds on the Lawn, [ 85 ]

    Or ere the point of dawn,

    Sate simply chatting in a rustick row;

    Full little thought they than,

    That the mighty Pan

    Was kindly com to live with them below; [ 90 ]

    Perhaps their loves, or els their sheep,

    Was all that did their silly thoughts so busie keep.

    IX

    When such musick sweet

    Their hearts and ears did greet,

    As never was by mortall finger strook, [ 95 ]

    Divinely-warbled voice

    Answering the stringed noise,

    As all their souls in blisfull rapture took:

    The Air such pleasure loth to lose,

    With thousand echo’s still prolongs each heav’nly close. [ 100 ]

    X

    Nature that heard such sound

    Beneath the hollow round

    Of Cynthia’s seat, the Airy region thrilling,

    Now was almost won

    To think her part was don, [ 105 ]

    And that her raign had here its last fulfilling;

    She knew such harmony alone

    Could hold all Heav’n and Earth in happier union.

    XI

    At last surrounds their sight

    A Globe of circular light, [ 110 ]

    That with long beams the shame-fac’t night array’d,

    The helmed Cherubim

    And sworded Seraphim

    Are seen in glittering ranks with wings displaid,

    Harping in loud and solemn quire, [ 115 ]

    With unexpressive notes to Heav’ns new-born Heir.

    XII

    Such Musick (as ’tis said)

    Before was never made,

    But when of old the sons of morning sung,

    While the Creator Great [ 120 ]

    His constellations set,

    And the well-balanc’t world on hinges hung,

    And cast the dark foundations deep,

    And bid the weltring waves their oozy channel keep.

    XIII

    Ring out ye Crystall sphears, [ 125 ]

    Once bless our human ears,

    (If ye have power to touch our senses so)

    And let your silver chime

    Move in melodious time;

    And let the Base of Heav’ns deep Organ blow, [ 130 ]

    And with your ninefold harmony

    Make up full consort to th’ Angelike symphony.

    XIV.

    For if such holy Song

    Enwrap our fancy long,

    Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold, [ 135 ]

    And speckl’d vanity

    Will sicken soon and die,

    And leprous sin will melt from earthly mould,

    And Hell itself will pass away,

    And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day. [ 140 ]

    XV

    Yea Truth, and Justice then

    Will down return to men,

    Th’ enameld Arras of the Rainbow wearing,

    And Mercy set between,

    Thron’d in Celestiall sheen, [ 145 ]

    With radiant feet the tissued clouds down stearing,

    And Heav’n as at som festivall,

    Will open wide the Gates of her high Palace Hall.

    XVI

    But wisest Fate sayes no,

    This must not yet be so, [ 150 ]

    The Babe lies yet in smiling Infancy,

    That on the bitter cross

    Must redeem our loss;

    So both himself and us to glorifie:

    Yet first to those ychain’d in sleep, [ 155 ]

    The wakefull trump of doom must thunder through the deep,

    XVII

    With such a horrid clang

    As on mount Sinai rang

    While the red fire, and smouldring clouds out brake:

    The aged Earth agast [ 160 ]

    With terrour of that blast,

    Shall from the surface to the center shake,

    When at the worlds last session,

    The dreadfull Judge in middle Air shall spread his throne.

    XVIII

    And then at last our bliss [ 165 ]

    Full and perfect is,

    But now begins; for from this happy day

    Th’ old Dragon under ground,

    In straiter limits bound,

    Not half so far casts his usurped sway, [ 170 ]

    And wrath to see his Kingdom fail,

    Swindges the scaly Horrour of his foulded
    tail.

    XIX,

    The Oracles are dumm,

    No voice or hideous humm

    Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. [ 175 ]

    Apollo from his shrine

    Can no more divine,

    With hollow shreik the steep of Delphos leaving.

    No nightly trance, or breathed spell,

    Inspire’s the pale-ey’d Priest from the prophetic cell. [ 180 ]

    XX

    The lonely mountains o’re,

    And the resounding shore,

    A voice of weeping heard, and loud lament;

    From haunted spring and dale

    Edg’d with poplar pale, [ 185 ]

    The parting Genius is with sighing sent,

    With flowre-inwov’n tresses torn

    The Nimphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn.

    XXI

    In consecrated Earth,

    And on the holy Hearth, [ 190 ]

    The Lars, and Lemures moan with midnight plaint,

    In Urns, and Altars round,

    A drear, and dying sound

    Affrights the Flamins at their service quaint;

    And the chill Marble seems to sweat, [ 195 ]

    While each peculiar power forgoes his wonted seat.

    XXII

    Peor, and Baalim,

    Forsake their Temples dim,

    With that twise-batter’d god of Palestine,

    And mooned Ashtaroth, [ 200 ]

    Heav’ns Queen and Mother both,

    Now sits not girt with Tapers holy shine,

    The Libyc Hammon shrinks his horn,

    In vain the Tyrian Maids their wounded Thamuz mourn.

    XXIII

    And sullen Moloch fled, [ 205 ]

    Hath left in shadows dred.

    His burning Idol all of blackest hue,

    In vain with Cymbals ring,

    They call the grisly king,

    In dismall dance about the furnace blue; [ 210 ]

    The brutish gods of Nile as fast,

    Isis and Orus, and the Dog Anubis hast.

    XXIV

    Nor is Osiris seen

    In Memphian Grove, or Green,

    Trampling the unshowr’d Grasse with lowings loud: [ 215 ]

    Nor can he be at rest

    Within his sacred chest,

    Naught but profoundest Hell can be his shroud:

    In vain with Timbrel’d Anthems dark

    The sable-stoled Sorcerers bear his worshipt Ark. [ 220 ]

    XXV

    He feels from Juda’s land

    The dredded Infants hand,

    The rayes of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn;

    Nor all the gods beside,

    Longer dare abide, [ 225 ]

    Nor Typhon huge ending in snaky twine:

    Our Babe, to shew his Godhead true,

    Can in his swadling bands controul the damned crew.

    XXVI

    So when the Sun in bed,

    Curtain’d with cloudy red, [ 230 ]

    Pillows his chin upon an Orient wave.

    The flocking shadows pale

    Troop to th’ infernall jail,

    Each fetter’d Ghost slips to his severall grave,

    And the yellow-skirted Fayes [ 235 ]

    Fly after the Night-steeds, leaving their Moon-lov’d maze.

    XXVII

    But see the Virgin blest,

    Hath laid her Babe to rest.

    Time is our tedious Song should here have ending,

    Heav’ns youngest-teemed Star [ 240 ]

    Hath fixt her polisht Car,

    Her sleeping Lord with Handmaid Lamp attending.

    And all about the Courtly Stable,

    Bright-harnest Angels sit in order serviceable.

  3. janicket

    Chipmunks roasting on an open fire,

    Jackals ripping at your nose

    You’ll tell Carol, “You’re a skunk and a liar,

    And you smell like a whale hole blow.”

    Everybody knows some jackass under mistletoe

    Will help to make the party blight

    Tiny sots with their eyes full of woe

    Will find it hard to sleep tonight.

    They know that Santa’s been delayed,

    He’s lost a lot of toys and goodies from his sleigh,

    And every mother-****** is gonna try

    To pot a reindeer with his piece as it flies by….

    And so I’m offering the latest craze:

    “Buy now! Just $19.92!”

    Although it’$ been $aid, too many time$, too many way$,

    “Merry ChristKwanSolsHanFestivus to you!”  

  5. hubiestubert

    I got the best gift I could have gotten from my little girl yesterday.

    Hung out with the room-dog and his family, and apparently received a high honor when his father and I retired to the gun closet to check out his babies. My roomie apparently has never seen the M1 that his father has had for longer than Andrew’s been alive, let alone held it. I guess I passed the test to be his friend and back up.

    At this point, I’m stuffed, and considering heading back to bed for a nap.

    Hope all y’all are having a wonderful day, and many more for the merry band.  

  6. HappyinVT

    Mother Nature made her third appearance of the month Christmas Eve day.  I got to take the plunger to the toilet on Christmas Eve day (not related to Mother Nature, btw).  I went to work on Christmas Eve (the best part of my day).  I come home to find kitty doody in my shoe (of the slighty runny sort, just because).  The first person who dares to mention that perhaps I ought not to have left my shoes out gets a virtual kick from me.  Then, smelling a bit of kitty doody odor after I cleaned out the shoe I found another pile in the living room.  It’s a good thing she’s cute.

    And then I’ve apparently progressed to the night sweats/hot flashes at night portion of “the change” because I spent most of the night trying to get cool (getting naked over the covers with a window partly open didn’t help).  The bit of sleep I did get was spent dreaming of drinking lots of water.

    And now I’m at work.

    Merry Christmas!

  8. dirkster42

    despite fighting off some respiratory bug.  Went to friends and  had some amazing rice noodles for breakfast, played Monopoly (I got destroyed), ate home-made sushi, bread pudding with a berry topping for dessert, watched an execrable movie (“From Prada to Nada”) and came home to my beautifully empty apartment.

    It kind of distresses me that the living options for Christology nowadays are a completely insane evolution-denying Mel Gibson fascist or a mamby-pamby mumbler of “be nice” platitudes.  I think “risk EVERYTHING for a just world” is closer to what he was getting at.  I sometimes wish I had a better relation with Jesus – it would make that discipleship of risk much easier.

  9. fogiv

    Lt. Dan Choi, who was discharged from the military under the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy, told The Daily Caller, “I am not in the habit of endorsing candidates and I no longer belong to any party, but I hold Governor Johnson in highest regards and think he would be an amazing president.”

    Choi, who has declared in the past that he won’t vote for Obama again,  called Johnson “a patriot, a hero, a fighter and a friend. I salute him proudly and wish him the very best in his campaign.”

    http://news.yahoo.com/obama-ma…

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