Vol. 1 No. 3
December 20, 2004




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THE HISTORY OF CHRISTMAS
FROM WHENCE IT CAME, AND WHY IT FALLS ON DECEMBER 25
The actual date of Christ’s birth has never been known with any degree of certainty. It was not until the 4th century that any effort was made by the Catholic church to assign a day to his birth, and this assignment was made with little investigation. So why do we celebrate the birth of Christ on a seemingly arbitrary date in the middle of winter? There are a few theories.
               The most popular holds that the Catholic church, in an effort to Christianize the populace of Europe, placed the Christmas celebration in the midst of the pagan midwinter celebrations. These celebrations had been going on for hundreds of years, and were based on the belief that the sun was a god and winter came each year because the sun god had gotten sick and weak. The winter solstice marked a time when the sun god began to recover, and so it was also a time of great rejoicing, since it meant the dark, cold, and short days would soon be at an end.
               It must be remembered that the traditions we celebrate today began at a time when life was much harder, and there was much greater cause to rejoice when the days grew longer. People had no centrally heated homes to return to, nor a sure supply of food. The turning of the solstice was a time of celebration because it meant people had made it halfway; surely if they had made it this far it was cause for celebration. The days were getting longer, the sun god was getting well, and soon the world would be green again.
               At the solstice, the early Romans celebrated a feast called Saturnalia, in honor of Saturn, the god of agriculture. This is because the Romans knew their farms and orchards would soon be green and plentiful; in celebration, they decorated their homes and temples with evergreen boughs (a tradition that lives on today). It should be noted that evergreens have always been considered a sign of life to all peoples in colder regions, since it gave them hope that not all life ended during the harsh winter months, and would yet return.
               Over time, the Saturnalia feast extended to a week, from December 17 to December 23. It was a happy occasion, marked by peace and general tomfoolery: masters and slaves would switch places, and there was general merriment. The festival often degenerated into debauchery and involved lecherous behavior, and among Christians the word “saturnalia” became synonymous with excess and extravagance.
               Other celebrations abounded this time of year, chiefly among the pagan populace of northern Europe and Scandinavia. These peoples practiced a polytheistic religion now known as Asatru (AH-sah-troo), which was the dominant religion in the area before the spread of Christianity. Pagan celebrations began on the Mother Night (December 20) and ended on the 12th Night (December 31); it is partially from this 12-day Yule celebration that we get the “12 Days of Christmas.” Some believe that the 12 days of Yule are a microcosm of the 12 months of the year, and act as a time of reflection on the past and resolution for the future.

CHEER THIS
CHRISTMAS EVE IN BROOKLYN
By Joe Quesada & Jimmy Plamiotti

‘Twas the night before Christmas,
Da whole house was mellow,
Not a creature was stirrin’,
I had a gun unda my pillow

When up on da roof
I heard somethin’ pound,
I sprung to da window,
To scream, “Ay, keep it down!”

When what to my
Wanderin’ eyes should appear,
But dat hairy elf Vinny,
And eight friggin’ reindeer.

Wit a bad hackin’ cough
And the stencha burped beer,
I knew in a moment,
Yo, da Kringle wuz here!

Wit’ a slap to dere snouts
And a yank on dere manes,
He cursed and he shouted,
And called dem by name.

Yo Tony, Yo Frankie,
Yo Sally, Yo Vito,
Ay Joey, Ay Paulie,
Ay Pepe, Ay Guido!

As I drew out my gun
And hid by da bed,
Down came his friggin’ boot
On da top a my head.

His eyes were all bloodshot,
His b.o. wuz scary,
His breath wuz like sewage,
He had a mole dat wuz hairy.

He spit in my eye,
And he twisted my head.
He soon let me know
I should consider myself dead.

Den pointin’ a fat finga
Right unda my nose,
He let out some gas,
And up da chimney he rose.

He sprang to his sleigh,
Obscenities screamin’,
And away dey all flew,
Before he troo dem a beatin’.

But I heard him exclaim,
Or better yet grump,
Merry Christmas to all, and
Bite me, ya hump!

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