Totally provoked.

 

Santobsessed.

 I think in America we have a kind of mental development of Santa that runs like this:

1. Clement Clarke Moore publishes his famous poem in 1823

2. Thomas Nast draws Santa in 1863

3. Coca-Cola gives us a common picture of Santa in 1930

4. Rankin and Bass do the rest, starting 1964 

But there's a lot that gets left out of that outline. We've been Santa obsessed for quite some time. A search for "Santa Claus" on Discogs returns 27,895 hits. A quick look at the priceless Gutenberg Project site reveals books about Santa Claus that I did not know existed, and maybe the same is true for you. Sixty-one titles pop up on the site if you search there for "Santa Claus." For example:

A Reversible Santa Claus by Meredith Nicholson (1917)

This is a curious book by a curious writer; Nicholson was, among other things, a US envoy to three different countries. But he had been an Indiana newsman and loved to write, apparently. Here's the Amazon description of this book: 

A reformed thief known as Billy “the Hopper” – named for the ease with which he’s always made his escapes - has retired with one last haul and settled down on a chicken farm with his wife, Mary, and another former thief, Humpy. Mary used to be a pickpocket. Humpy used to raise chickens in jail, so he’s got valuable experience. All three of them are glad to be living a quiet life within the law, but one day the Hopper sees a wallet sticking out of someone’s jacket on the train and is unable to resist pocketing it. This sets in motion a chain of events that results in the Hopper inadvertently kidnapping a toddler.

Not sure how much actual Santa Claus is in this one, but it's the book on this list I'm most interested in reading. I'm wondering how "reversible" works into the "Santa Claus" too. Does that mean Hopper comes down the chimney and takes stuff away, like a proto Grinch?

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A Kidnapped Santa Claus by L. Frank Baum (1904)

Some of you may recall that Oz creator Baum had written a biography of Santa, The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus, in 1902, which was adapted for TV by Rankin-Bass in 1985. This one is really a short story, but one of the first in the Evildoers Threaten Christmas subgenre that has proved so durable. In it, the Daemons who live in the caves near Happy Valley and hate Santa all the time decide to kidnap him so he can't bring happiness to the children. But the various magical creatures that help Santa (not elves -- ryls, knooks, pixies, and fairies) manage to get Santa's presents delivered. Santa is released on Christmas Day by the frustrated bad guys. (Sorry; spoiler alert!) Well done, knooks & co. 

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A Defective Santa Claus by James Whitcomb Riley (1904)

Although not so well remembered today, Riley was another Indiana writer, exceptionally popular in his time for poems and stories for and about children. The book is actually a poem in dialect that, like so much of his work, harks back to simpler times in the 1800s. 

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Christmas in Storyland, edited by Maud Van Buren and Katharine Isabel Bemis (1927)

I don't know anything about the editors of this volume, but it's exactly what you'd expect -- a book of Christmas stories for children. Santa plays a part in many of them, naturally. That same year the editors also released Christmas in Modern Story: An Anthology for Adults. Back when "adult audiences" just meant "the kids won't like it."

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Lill's Travels in Santa Claus Land, and Other Stories by Ellis Towne, Sophie May, and Ella Farman (1878)

Lill with The Man Himself. Moore's reindeer names 
are used in the book (Dasher, Dancer, et al.) 

The book doesn't say which author wrote which story (there are four in the book), but the star is definitely Lill, who in the first tale explains how she happened to come upon Santa Claus Land while walking and met the big guy. At the end she tells us that Santa Claus Land is not in a fixed place, and she has been unable to find it again. 

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Tommy Trot's Visit to Santa Claus by Thomas Nelson Page (1908)

Tommy Trot looks like what is now a pretty standard Christmas story for kids. One summary says, "The story follows a young boy named Tommy Trot who goes on a magical adventure to visit Santa Claus at the North Pole. Along the way, he meets a variety of friendly creatures, including a talking reindeer and a group of mischievous elves. As Tommy explores the enchanting world of Santa's workshop, he learns valuable lessons about kindness, generosity, and the true meaning of Christmas." Which sounds like movie adaptation of The Polar Express, although a non-psychotic version. 

Page also wrote A Captured Santa Claus (1902) (very different from the Baum Kidnapped story, featuring Civil War veterans) and Santa Claus's Partner (1899), so he knew from Santa stories. He also had a very romanticized view of the Old South that pretty much guarantees his books for adults will be painful to modern eyes. 

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Santa Claus' Sweetheart by Imogen Clark (1906)

In case you wondered where Hallmark got the idea to do Christmas movies:

The story follows Jessica, a young bakery owner who finds herself falling for a mysterious man named Nick who bears an uncanny resemblance to Santa Claus. As their romance blossoms, Jessica discovers that Nick has a special connection to Christmas that transcends the ordinary. Clark's delightful narrative captures the spirit of the season with its themes of love, hope, and second chances. Through vivid descriptions and endearing characters, she transports readers to a charming world where miracles can happen and love is always in the air. "Santa Claus' Sweetheart" is a perfect read for anyone looking to experience the joy and wonder of Christmas all year round.

A short novel, looks pretty sweet. 

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Santa Claus' Message: A Christmas Story by E. Franklin Tregaskis (1921)

I have found almost nothing about E. Franklin Tregaskis beyond this Australian story, a short one that takes place in a crapped-out gold mining settlement called Twenty-Foot, where only two men are still trying to get something of value out of the ground as Christmas approaches. One is an old-timer, the other a man with a family, and there's been no rain to sluice out what thin pickings might be had. Then a mysterious message appears... Anyway, this shows that Australia's been Santobsessed just as we have.

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I haven't even mentioned all the storybooks on Gutenberg that have some Santa Claus in passing, or the plays for children that are up at the site (because parents always want to see the kiddies put on a performance). And who knows how many other Santa stories are out there that Gutenberg hasn't gotten to yet? 

All of this is to say that our love of Jolly Old Saint Nicholas is not new; it is a very sturdy part of the American culture, and God bless Santa Claus. May his stories always point the way to the One whose great story among us we celebrate on Christmas Day. 

Librarians eaten.

I hate this stuff.

What they think they're doing: Showing that "different" things aren't scary.

What they're actually doing: Showing that heroic men are idiots.

Here's the deal: Dragons are mythical creatures intended to be scary, even if they are good, as in Chinese mythology. A cuddly dragon is a non-dragon creature of some other kind. That's the point of dragons. 

I'm sick to death of dragons being the good guys. Dragons want to eat us. Dragons are no good for human companionship. Dragons suck. Boo dragons. Leave them alone.

Where did it start? Ogden Nash's "The Tale of Custard the Dragon," about a cowardly dragon (who does in fact eat a human)? Anne McCafferty's Dragonriders of Pern series? Wherever it did, we find now that the world is on its head, that the dragons are always (surprise!) good and the guys who want to take them out bad. Whether it's Dragonslayer, Dragonheart, How to Train Your Dragon, it's hard to find a dragon in fiction that's not the good guy. It's like finding a police office or priest in fiction who is the good guy, especially if he's white and male -- like finding hen's teeth.

It's all part of the crap that gave us Wicked and all the new Disney pictures that root for the bad guy. (As long as the bad guy is, you know, a girl -- Captain Hook and Gaston remain bad.) The ladies are just misunderstood, you know. Men were mean to them, probably. That's why they're bad. 

Or maybe they're just power-hungry crapweasels. I don't care what made the green babe mad in Oz; if she sends a pack of wolves to rip up a little kid, kidnaps her with terrifying flying monkeys, and threatens to slaughter the little girl when the sand runs out of the hourglass, to hell with her. Drop a freaking house on her. SHE'S THE BADDIE. How she got that way is irrelevant; she chose her path. 

As Germán Saucedo wrote recently in First Things:

The clear images of true evil present in the best fairy tales, ballads, myths, and legends offer both a vision of what is to be avoided at all costs, as well as a vision of virtue. As such, the “sympathetic villain” genre is a symptom of a society that disagrees on what is good and what is evil, or that tries to explain evil away as trauma, psychopathy, or pathology. But to identify and avoid evil, we must first learn to recognize the good. The insistence on subverting villains is a sign we have lost confidence in our belief that we can know what heroism looks like, a heroism that displays the good that would oppose their unrighteousness. In a world without any moral certitude or any agreed upon system to define true virtue, what is wickedness anyhow? It would be just a matter of perspective.

In this light, we see that stories like this tell us a lot more about the storyteller than they actually do about good or evil. 

One dragon story that takes a more serious approach to the topic was based on Fred Saberhagen's Swords books, which I discussed here last year. An Armory of Swords features stories by other writers about what happened to various normal people whose lives were touched by the mighty god-forged Swords that were circulating the world. In "Dragon Debt" by Robert E. Vardeman, my favorite story in the collection, a young man comes into possession of Dragonslicer, the Sword of Heroes... and also a small, helpless baby dragon. A moral dilemma ensues in which the stakes are not small. 

The point of dragons is that they're dangerous, and dealing with them requires valor, not tea and cookies. Pretending they are all nice and lovely is just pretending that there is nothing really dangerous in the world, which we know is false. As C.S. Lewis wrote in the essay "On Three Ways of Writing for Children," "Since it is so likely that they will meet cruel enemies, let them at least have heard of brave knights and heroic courage. Otherwise you are making their destiny not brighter but darker."

Meanwhile, the librarian type in the meme above are the sort who expect their native goodness to make everyone but the genuinely evil side with them -- and when people don't, they go on TikTok demanding the ruin of their lives. 

I've had it with dragons, but when the one pictured above turns on his bookworm buddies and eats them, I will offer him a mild nod. Not that I want the wicked dragon to win, but smugness and stupidity must be punished if we're to understand why these are bad things. 

54° 40' or fuggetaboutit.

Since President Trump picked on PM Trudeau a few days back, the meme machines have gone into overdrive once again. 

A lot of gags hang on the idea of Trump annexing Canada, making it into the 51st state ("Gay North Dakota" etc.). Of course the New York Times, which hates Donald and loves Justin (and both his dad and his "dad"), was mad at Trump. In other news, rain is wet.

It led me to wonder -- what if, not by war but some more peaceable means, Canada did become part of the United States? What would that look like politically? Would it be good for either country?

If Canada was admitted to the union as a single gigantic state, it would become our largest one population-wise, but only barely: With 40.1 million citizens, it would just beat out California's 39.5. However, it would be able to throw its weight around in Washington, because like the Golden State it would have 52 members of the House and 54 electoral votes. 

What if we admitted the Canadian provinces and territories as 13 individual states to split its power? Then it would likely dominate the Senate with a reliable club of 26 Canuckcaucus senators. 

This could be a good deal for Canadians. All of the authority, none of the responsibility. 

Nor would it necessarily be a bad thing for the original fifty, even with Canadian socialism. 

While we may dislike all the Trudeaus here, and clearly a lot of Canada do too, somehow they kept and keep winding up at 24 Sussex. But obviously we are also very good in the USA at sending dunderheads to higher office. We used to joke about the French minority calling the shots for the vast hinterland, making them learn French, but wherever you go in the USA, for Spanish you may marque dos. Unhinged and unaccountable bureaucrats make crippling rules without warning or voter input in both nations. Is there any real difference anymore? 

Canadian Mark Steyn calls his native land the Deranged Dominion, but it was the United States legal system that served him with years of torment and a bad free-speech judgment. He probably suffered more at the hands of Americans thanks to that than he ever did in Canada, even including time spent shoveling snow. Our healthcare system is morphing into socialized misery -- or fascistic misery, with companies in cahoots with the government, and patients getting screwed. Euthanasia can't be far behind, and if the system keeps getting worse, may be welcomed. ("It beats doing all this paperwork!") So can Americans even claim to have benefits of liberty superior to those in Canada? 

I wonder sometimes. 

I wonder if we would all be one huge country now if, as could very easily have happened, the American colonists had lost or given up in the dark years following the signing of the Declaration. 

I'll end with this promise: If it all somehow does come together into the United Canadian States of America, I swear that as Prime President I will enact my goal of refusing to allow any state that does not normally and naturally get ice to have an ice hockey team in the NHL. You have my word. 

Distasteful food words.

Handy in the kitchen

Do you like to eat food? Sure, we all do! But sometimes it bothers me that English, which is such a useful and interesting language, manages to have the ugliest words to describe food. Sometimes I wonder how we stomach the stuff with words like these. 

Seriously, look at this list and think of the words as words rather than what they mean. Eating is a pleasure; food is lovely. Why do we have gross words like these to ruin the experience?

Moist -- famously a top hated word in the English language, possibly because it is squeaky and is used equally for baking and fungal infections. 

Vegetables -- I've complained before that vegetable is a horrible wreck of consonants and vowels, more suited for something that clogs the toilet than a class of healthy comestible. Shortening it to veggie just makes it a toilet clog for children and idiots. 

Succulent -- An X-rated verb masquerading as a G-rated descriptor, and using the word when being arrested in an eatery probably just makes the situation worse. 

Slurp -- Another word for boneheads and a violation of every table manner since tables began; if there wasn't a punk band called The Slurps then I'm disappointed in the genre. 

Juicy -- About as bad as moist and for similar reasons. It also makes you spit a little at the end, which makes it a little more demonstrative than we really need. 

Scrumptious -- Anything that is described with a syllable like scrump ought to be involved in crushing, like a trash compactor. Supposedly a bastardization of the less-painful sumptuous. 

Toothsome -- Who thought this was a good word? It's usually used to connote good flavor, but teeth have no taste sensors. If your teeth are getting strong feelings from your food, it's time to see your dentist. But that brings us to:

Mouthfeel -- We know what it means and there's no real substitute word, but does it have to be so... vivid? Oral tactility is now my preferred phrase. 

Yogurt -- You get no sense of the creamy goodness of yogurt with this ugly Turkish word. The cows would go on strike if they knew. 

Munch -- Violent and stupid. Used for comical purpose by people who can't tell jokes. 

Chomp -- Violenter and stupider. 

Yummy -- Another word for small children, dingdongs, and dummies, and damn near incites me to violence. Grow the #@#^&! up.

Dripping -- Not really a food word although often used to describe supposed benefits of foods that are moist and juicy and a big fat mess. I ain't cleaning that up. 

Delicious -- Two shusches in a row make thus Latin import a wet mess. Pity, as it is the fundamental word for describing things that taste good. Shortening it to delish is almost as bad as veggie. 

Barbecue -- Not too too bad, but compared to its lyrical Spanish origin (barbacoa), it's definitely more violent and ugly. Shortening it to 'cue is just stupid. 

Mouthwatering -- What whets your appetite better than a word that makes you think of obvious, uncontrollable drooling? 

Luscious -- Delicious's drunk brother. 

Well, that's my list, and I daresay it's probably only the offenders who came to mind today. You may have other such words that hit the nails-on-the-chalkboard-o-meter, which I invite you to share in comments. English is such a wonderful language but can be so gross. 

Book thief!

Voltaire is supposed to have said, "Only your friends steal your books." I have not been able to find the quote to verify it, although it sounds like him. I have also heard a version as "Enemies steal your money; friends steal your books."

Nevertheless, there is truth to it. 

A friend of mine has recently found himself with time on his hands, and mentioned that for the first time in many years he is looking for books to read. I happily loaned a few from my library, most of which he enjoyed. 

Then he gave them away to other people. 

This is one reason why friends steal books -- if they are not true book lovers, they don't see the value in keeping a book at hand. Then they pass them along, figuring everyone should enjoy this nice book. I honestly had not anticipated this, but when he told me that he gave one of my books to his son and another to a friend, I knew I'd never see them again. 

"That's my book in your pocket, isn't it?"
“No, I’m just happy to see you. And
I have a rectangular schmeckele.”

I can sort of understand it, and yet at the same time I don't. No one does this with anything else. If I leant him a coat or my car or some tools, I know I'd get them back. He is very honest. I'm pretty sure if I'd leant him a DVD, he would not send it along downstream for someone else to watch. And yet hardcover books and many paperbacks are more expensive than CDs and DVDs. Maybe they expect you’ll watch a movie over and over, but no one ever rereads a book.

When I've stolen a book from a friend, I did it the old-fashioned way -- forgot to return it. Sometimes the book didn't grab me, or I had no time, and was determined to get back to it, only to find years later that it had been in my possession far longer than it ever had been in his. That's not larceny, which requires intent, but I still didn't give the book back.

Well, my pal still is looking for things to read, so you can figure what I have done -- I've bought him some as a Christmas present. I hope he enjoys them, and the same to whomever he sends them to next. I will not have to worry about those books. 

I need a montage.

I need a montage. 

It's Saturday, and I have three projects running that have me stressed. Two are copyediting jobs that also light fact-checking (for some values of "light"). Suffice it to say, if an error gets past me, many people among the readers will know it, and I am going to be in huge trouble with the publishers of these books. The third job is short, for a young audience, and is so poorly written that I'm concerned about how to get it to make sense without also making an enemy for life with the author and editor. I am paralyzed with anxiety and annoyance (anxioyance?).

So I need a montage. 

At this point in a movie or TV show, a friend or new acquaintance would enter my life and give me some words of direction or encouragement. As the light of hope and resolve comes back into my eyes, the opening chords of an upbeat pop hit are heard. Then, with the music overlaid loudly, I am shown in various scenes hammering away at the jobs, maybe with a few comical cuts (going for coffee, pencils breaking, Post-its being posted, going for more coffee, pounding the keyboard, looking through enormous books of facts, crawling for more coffee). It looks rough, but after two minutes the music is over and I'm DONE! 

That's the important bit -- being done. The audience doesn't need to go through all that stuff because it's boring and hard, and no one goes to the movies for homework. But without a montage for my life, I have to go through the boring and hard stuff. So I need some serious film editing. 

Well, some people still say that when you're in danger of death, your life passes before your eyes. I certainly hope that the boring parts are edited out -- unless of course that keeps the life-passing-by stage running longer, giving me more time to be rescued. "We thought we'd lost him, but he was rewatching the time he had to edit an encyclopedia of the Eisenhower administration, and that bought us some time!" 

Could be. That was a huge project.