Royal Jam ... Fly With Wings Of Love

Well, we let the day get away from us today.

We hope you had a great Christmas Holiday, as we did on this end, busy few days, that it was.

In the event your Christmas didn't go very well, perhaps, a family member, or two, over-indulged, maybe things got a little rowdy, and you found yourself longing for a good, old-fashion Christmas celebration ...

Your drunken, loutish family members would be on-the-money, as the way to go.



Last week, Stephen Nissenbaum, at The Boston Globe, looked into it, and wrote;

Christmas was a riot ..Ever long for a traditional New England Christmas? Be careful what you wish for

So where does this leave the old-fashioned Christmas of yesteryear, untainted by commercialism or ideological dispute? The evidence from Boston suggests it was never there. When the Boston public embraced a more family-centered, domestic version of the holiday, it was already commercial at its very core

No snips, go read the entire piece ... It's hysterical.

And, since "flying" has been in the news all weekend all weekend, we have the soundtrack for you to read by.

It's a gem, from the early 1980's - The Crusaders, with B.B. King, and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, recorded live, at Royal Festival Hall.

And, there's monster piano work by Joe Sample ...

Enjoy!

Fly With Wings Of Love (Live 1981/Royal Festival Hall, London)

Merry Christmas! ... What Is A Santa Claus

Here's to the big day, and for one that is the merriest to all.

As to the title, ahhh, we got a good one for you on that.

Gather the youngin's around, and lend your ears, for Stanley Newcomb Kenton;

Stan Kenton - What Is A Santa Claus




Merry Christmas!

Magnifique! ... Jacques Tati, Coast to Coast

Here's stocking stuffer, and, Oh Boy!, what a gift this is going to be.

We have, a few times (Here and Here), referenced the legendary comedy actor-writer-director Jacques Tati here on The Garlic.



If you love comedy, subtle (and at times, over-the-head), intelligent, ingenious, brilliant comedy, and you are not hip to Jacques Tati, then use one of the gift cards you'll be getting for Christmas, go out and pick up some of his films - you will be spending wisely and well-rewarded.

Or, maybe you'll be lucky enough to catch this;

Jacques Tati, Coast to Coast

"The Museum of Modern Art's retrospective of the French screenwriter, director, and actor Jacques Tati (born Jacques Tatischeff, 1907–1982) features newly struck, gloriously restored 35mm prints of his six feature films," brags the Museum, and well they should: "Monsieur Hulot's Holiday, Playtime, Mon Oncle, his long-dreamed-of colorized version of Jour de fête, the revelatory Traffic, and the little-seen Parade - along with three short sketch films." The series runs through January 2 and Jordan Hruska (T Magazine) notes that, architecturally, "MoMA is a perfect venue" for it, while Nicolas Rapold (Voice) notes that it follows "the huge Cinémathèque Française exhibition" and: "Besides a 1936 René Clément short with gangly Tati as a farm boy recruited for sparring (sports-based routines were initially his specialty), MoMA also shows the delightful Cours du soir (1966), shot during Playtime downtime, in which Tati presides at a night school for pratfalls and mime. It's quite an education, but then, Tati was always good at training us all as observational comedians."

[snip]

Updates, 12/22: Mr Hulot's Holiday "is likely the purest distillation of Tati's aesthetic," argues Brian Darr. "It's a film in tune with the elements: wind, water, sand, etc. The director gets great comic mileage out of the most seemingly insignificant things, like the sound a door makes when opening and closing, or a tennis swing, or the tide rolling onto the shore.

Here's a few short snips you can check out.

Jaques Tati - Mon Oncle (Kitchen Scene)




Playtime - Jacques Tati - Window Cleaning




Les Vacances de Monsieur Hulot (1953) - Jacques Tati




Bonus Links

The Jacques Tati Website, Tativille

Jacques Tati 1908-1982

More Swinging ... Jingle Bells!

Yesterday, we posted the hippest, swingest Xmas Tune, and today, we follow-up with the old chestnut, Jingle Bells, equally drenched in the Cool Yule spirit of finger-snappin', toe-tappin' Bebop.



Duke Ellington kept his orchestra together for decades (no small feat), and his sax section was comparable to Murderer's Row, of the powerful New York Yankees - simply the best, anytime, anyplace.

If you have never heard this, strap yourself in, for you are likely to jump out of your shoes.

Duke Ellington Orchestra - Jingle Bells



As a "Bonus Bonus", check out how hip a small trio can be;

Gene Krupa Trio - Jingle Bells


Merry Jazzmas!

The Hippest, Swingest Christmas Tune ... Evah!

Oh, do we have a treat for you this evening.

Finally found a the Christmas tune we have been searching for (well, at least a 'Free" version of it), and it is one, even on the most downbeat jazz radio stations, doesn't always make the playlists.

It is the hippest, swingest Christmas tune - Evah!



We have to thank that showman-of-showmen, Louis Prima, for being, well, Louis Prima

Click through, wait a few moments for it to buffer, and, when it starts playing, don't be surprised if your fingers are snapping, and toes'a tapppin'

Louis Prima - What Will Santa Say (When He Finds Everybody Swingin')

Bonus Bonus

Here's another from Louis ...

Louis Prima - Shake Hands with Santa Claus

Have Yourself a Satchmo Christmas!

With our schedule thrown out-of-whack, for the past month+, we got off to a late start (yesterday), indulging you in some of the best Christmas Jazz out on the World Wide Web.




So, today, we give you a tripleheader of some gems.


In the world of music, there's only been two human beings that can take any song, any genre, and make it their own. You, undoubtedly, no matter who did the original, how many stars covered it, always go back to this person's rendition.

Ray Charles, certainly, is one such artist.

The other is today's feature, Louis "Satchmo" Armstrong, swingin', as only he can, on some Christmas spirit.

Enjoy!

'Zat You, Santa Claus?

Christmas In New Orleans

Christmas Night In Harlem - Louis Armstrong (1955).wmv

'Tis The Season ... White Christmas

Thanks to the wall-to-wall snowfall this weekend, it will be a White Christmas, for a whole bunch of folks, from North Carolina, to New Hampshire.



And, we did our part, shoveling, just about 12-inches of it yesterday.

And, they did something other than shoveling, down in the the Nation's capital, where there was a "Twitter Snowball Fight", complete with firearms (shoot, when we were kids, people just got out of their cars, empty-handed, and chased you a block, or two)

So, between the on-going recovery from that, and a somewhat jammin' day otherwise, on the Homefront, we will kick off getting into the season's spirit, on this first, official day of Winter.

I believe we posted this last year, but that doesn't matter ... It's The Bird, and a kick-ass tune

Charlie Parker -White Christmas

So, This Is Christmas ...

Last evening, Christmas Eve, NBC (or the local affiliate here) replayed the Christmas classic, 'It's A Wonderful Life'.

Interesting viewing this time around, following an article by Wendell Jamieson, in the NYT last week (Wonderful? Sorry, George, It’s a Pitiful, Dreadful Life).

Was this what adulthood promised?

“It’s a Wonderful Life” is a terrifying, asphyxiating story about growing up and relinquishing your dreams, of seeing your father driven to the grave before his time, of living among bitter, small-minded people. It is a story of being trapped, of compromising, of watching others move ahead and away, of becoming so filled with rage that you verbally abuse your children, their teacher and your oppressively perfect wife. It is also a nightmare account of an endless home renovation.

Forget about adulthood.

My dreams, were relinquished as a small child.

This is, probably, my least fun time of year.

Christmas.

Ever since I was a young child, after one particular Christmas, I bemoaned the calendar, as it turned from November, to December.

The avalanche of ads that flooded out, gleaming toys beaming out of the television set, made all more annoying, with the weather, getting colder and colder each day, and all those conned into thinking, that, "OMG! ...Will we have a white Christmas this year?", like that actually adds to the merriment of the day.

Yes, I secretly thought.

Let it snow, so much, so heavy, that Christmas would be muted out.

The snow, would be so dense, so deep, that even that fat jolly guy would be grounded, unable to make his way, dropping down chimneys, leaving behind those not-so-gleaming toys (they never looked as good, in your hands, in your house, as they do in those television ads).

And what kind of person drops down a chimney to deliver something, I thought, as I got a bit older.

Why wasn't he using the door, or a window, even?

And, why was it none of the toys, or gifts left, ever carrying a millimeter of soot on them?

Did he stop and clean them?

Then, there is the weight issue.

First of all, he was fat, really fat, so there was a problem.

None of the stories mentioned anything about grease or Vaseline being used, so he could just slide right down, all those chimneys.

Being that fat, and with all those deliveries to make, you have to wonder about stamina, and what kind of shape such a fat person would be in.

All the stories have him being jolly, going "Ho, Ho, Ho", never anything like he was bent over, gasping for air, like a rescued coal miner.

With a few more years under my belt, I begin to look for news articles, that a fat guy in a funny red suit was found, stuck in a chimney, dead, the victim of a heart attack, a odd-looking, sleigh-like vehicle parked nearby, stuffed with toys.

No such articles did I ever find.

Only more PR for Christmas, the same stories, with slight tweaks, appearing year-after-year, carrying the main, and only, theme, of commercialism.

Buy, Buy, Buy!

If you don't go out, traipse all over downtown, arms stuffed with "presents", that you were just a horrible person.

And, school ...

Oh the burden, all my fellow classmates, chirping like little Christmas birds "What are you getting for Christmas?", or "What did you ask Santa to bring to you?"



Their incessant Christmas promoting stopped as abruptly as a crash-test dummy hitting the dashboard, when I would answer, "A blizzard".

The cookies, and other confections ... The dinners ...

All done, and conducted, imbued with that "Christmas Spirit".

After that incident, Christmas morning for me was like a parole hearing, and I never had enough merits to get sprung from it.

All the relatives, seen only this once per year, coming in-and-out, pinching your cheeks, like you were some good-luck totem standing by the door.

After they all piled in, I would look out the door, longingly, cheeks still stinging for the numerous death grips, for a hint, that first lonely flake of the impending snow tsunami I fervently wished for.

And the cameras, the Super 8's ...

The dreary jobs my relatives held down all year long, gave way to their new careers of being the next Cecille B. DeMille on Christmas, documenting your every move, punctured by their frequent shouts of direction, to, basically, due something stupid for their camera, so all the adults could guffaw until their jaws ached, next time we visited the home of that particular film hot shot.

Why no seasonal mirth, oozing out of every pore?

It goes back to that particular Christmas, when I was around four, or five-years-old.

Oh, I was a junior Mr. Christmas back then.

We couldn't get the decorations up soon enough, fast enough, or early enough.

As Thanksgiving dishes were being washed, I would be rummaging through the closets, pulling out all the Christmas booty.

If the tinsel wasn't in stock at the local stores, I had no patience to wait for the next shipment.

I would, with my little hands, using an older sibling's Exacto knife, spend hours-and-hours, cutting the Reynolds Wrap into tinsel-like strands.



Tangled Christmas Tree Lights?

Heck, I could solve a Rubik's Cube with one hand, while my little fingers unraveled them effortlessly.

Christmas was on the line ... The sooner they could be strung on the always tall, plump, blinding-green pine I would lobby, actually badger, that we get (and, as a slightly older child, I wondered, if it is that we cut down trees on Christmas, why don't we cut down crucifixes on Arbor Day?).

No, it was the annual photo trek, downtown, to see Santa Claus.

You know, where you go to the enormo-department store, stand in line for about an hour, with a zillion other kids, quietly dissing them, confident that Santa, not caring about the others, is going to be at rigid attention with your own Christmas order.

Finally, it was my turn and a single bound landed me on his lap.

After dispensing with my laundry list of gifts I expected, I remembered, suddenly, something I heard my older siblings talking about, so I asked the question.

"Are you really Santa Claus?"

He looked at me, a bit taken back, then leaned forward and whispered in my ear.

"Of course I am ... But let me tell you a secret ..."

OMG! ... Santa was going to tell me a secret, I thought .. How cool was this!

He glanced around for a moment, and then laid it on me.

I was shocked, horrified!

I jumped off his lap, running as fast as I could, tears streaming down my cheeks.

I never told anyone.

I carried it around, like an ocean liner's anchor for years.

Christmas after Christmas came, and went, and I barely noticed.

No, it wasn't the same anymore.

I never had a good Christmas, the day after a Department Store Santa Claus told me that my parents were fake, that they weren't really my parents.

Jingle Bells!

Merry Christmas! ... Glaedelig Jul! ...Vrolijk kerstfeest ...Boas Festas! ...Hauskaa Joulua! ...Joyeux Noel! ...Frohe Weihnachten! ...

Natale allegro! ...Christmas Alegre! ...Feliz Navidad ...God Jul! ...Joyeux Noel! ...Maligayang Pasko!

Throw another log on the fire, and eggnog for everybody!

And, strap yourselves in, for the most merriest, rollickin', foot-tappin', finger-snappin', sugar-shackin', beboppin' rendition of Jingle Bells you'll ever hear!

It's a gas, the best way to kick-start your Christmas morning!

Crank it up!

Merry Xmas!

Duke Ellington Orchestra - Jingle Bells

Christmas Time is Here

Perhaps, some of you, may have first become aware, and hip, to Vince Guaraldi via his hit tune "Cast Your Fate To The Wind", born out of his work on "Jazz Impressions of Black Orpheus".

However, numerous generations are warmed by the music from all the Charlie Brown specials, completely unaware of Guaraldi.

From the Vince Guaraldi website;

The most prestigious task, however, was yet to come. Even before Duke Ellington played San Francisco's Grace Cathedral, that venerable institution's Reverend Charles Gompertz selected Guaraldi to write a modern jazz setting for the choral Eucharist. The composer labored18 months with his trio and a 68-voice choir, and the result is an impressive blend of Latin influences, waltz tempos, and traditional jazz "supper music". It was performed live on May 21, 1965, and the album became another popular and critical hit. Clearly, if Vince Guaraldi could write music for God, he could pen tunes for Charlie Brown.

The jazz pianist's association with Charles Schulz's creations actually had begun the year before, when Guaraldi was hired to score the first Peanuts television special, adocumentary called"A Boy Named Charlie Brown " (not to be confused with the big- screen feature of the same title). The show brought together four remarkable talents: Schulz, writer/producer/director Lee Mendelson, artist Bill Melendez and Guaraldi.

Guaraldi's smooth trio compositions -- piano, bass and drums -- perfectly balanced Charlie Brown's kid-sized universe. Sprightly, puckish, and just as swiftly somber and poignant, these gentle jazz riffs established musical trademarks which, to this day, still prompt smiles of recognition.

They reflected the whimsical personality of a man affectionately known as a "pixie", an image Guaraldi did not discourage. He'd wear funny hats, wild mustaches, and display hairstyles from buzzed crewcuts to rock-star shags.

Unfortunately, with an irony that seemed appropriate for a documentary about Charlie Brown, Mendelson never was able to sell the show, which remains unseen to this day by the general public. Fortunately, the unaired program became an expensive calling-card that attracted a sponsor (Coca-Cola) intrigued by the notion of a Peanuts Christmas TV special. Thus, when "A Charlie Brown Christmas" debuted in December 1965, it did more than reunite Schulz, Mendelson, Melendez and Guaraldi, all of whom quickly turned the Peanuts franchise into a television institution. That first special also shot Guaraldi to greater fame, and he became irreplaceably welded to all subsequent Peanuts shows. Many of his earliest Peanuts tunes -- "Linus and Lucy", "Red Baron" and "Great Pumpkin Waltz", among others -- became signature themes that turned up in later specials.

And, Wikipedia;

While searching for just the right music to accompany a planned Peanuts television documentary, Lee Mendelson (the producer of the special) heard a single version of "Cast Your Fate to the Wind" by Vince Guaraldi's trio on the radio while traveling in a taxicab on the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, California. Mendelson contacted Ralph J. Gleason, jazz columnist for the San Francisco Chronicle and was put in touch with Guaraldi. He proposed that Guaraldi score the upcoming Peanuts Christmas special and Guaraldi enthusiastically took the job, performing a version of what became "Linus and Lucy" over the phone two weeks later. The soundtrack was recorded by the Vince Guaraldi Trio, whose other members were bassist Fred Marshall (who later married Bev Bivens of the folk-rock group We Five) and drummer Jerry Granelli. Guaraldi went on to compose scores for sixteen Peanuts television specials, plus the feature film A Boy Named Charlie Brown as well as the unaired television program of the same name.

Here's a little something familiar, to warm you up ...

A Charlie Brown Christmas - Christmas Time is Here Song




Bonus Bonus

NORAD Tracks Santa 2008

We Free Kings

Ah yes ... Today's Christmas Tune is a killer!

Rahsaan Roland Kirk ... Need we say more?

Kirk takes the traditional "We Three Kings of Orient Are" and, well, "Rahsaanifies" it, as only he could.

From Verve;

According to an old-time myth, only a blind man can truly understand the meaning of the blues. On the deeply passionate CD, “We Free Kings”, Roland Kirk transforms this myth to reality. On the title track, Kirk has converted the traditional Christmas carol into a melancholy contemporary gospel performance.

Kick back, and let your Christmas Freak out!

We Free Kings by Roland Kirk Quartet

We Free Kings - Roland Kirk Qu...

God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen

Yes, time for another Christmas Tune.

After this weekend, with all the snow, we're not all that merry, at the moment, and definitely could use rest.

So, we have another classic today.

It's the old warhorse, 'God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman' but there's noting restful about it, as we give you the Jazz version, by the great Jimmy Smith, one of the Kings of the Hammond B-3 Organ (as you would have to include in that set of royalty, Groove Holmes, Brother Jack McDuff, and Jimmy McGriff).

Crank it up to kick start your Christmas Spirit!

Jimmy Smith - God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen

God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen - ...

Boppin' Around The Christmas Blogs (Herb Caen-Dot-Dot-Dot Style) ...

Well, coming off the, seemingly, long holiday break (and being freed from cooking and baking for nearly two-straight days), it's back to posting ... But, we go gently this day, warming up the engine and defrosting the windows, so to speak ... Think of it like stretching before a run or workout ...

While you were unwrapping gifts, downing the eggnog, and otherwise kickin' back, The Garlic was on-duty, taking a stroll through the blogosphere, checking up on who was naughty and who was nice ...

Carol Gee, on her own South by Southwest, as well as The Reaction, offered a wistful (and pragmatic) look at the Christmas holiday .... And Libby Spencer, also crossposting on The Reaction and The Impolitic tells of her own mini Christmas miracle ...

Joe Gandelman, over on his The Moderate Voice doesn't let us forget Brenda Lee... While Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés (she of the great Burma posts earlier this Fall), also on TMV, details her emotional Christmas Eve...

Dennis Perrin checks in with a post on how Christmas touched him this year ...

The ever-digging Glenn Greenwald, on Salon, posts about the Christmas Political wishes... Digby gives us her A Sec-Prog Christmas Redux, while Spencer Ackerman, on TPMmuckraker, presents A Special Christmas Message from Blackwater...

Think Progress shoots out their Year In Review: The 10 Most Popular Posts Of 2007...

Firedoglake's Jane Hamsher lays out the Mike Huckabee-Rush Limbaugh dust-up... While Larisa Alexandrovna, on her at-Largely (crossposted at Huffpo) fills Jonah Goldberg's Christmas stocking will a well-deserved pile of coal ...

But The Winners Are ....

Plural, as is two, rip-roaring, well-written, hysterical posts ...

James Wolcott's, on his Vanity Fair blog, Distinguished Poet Confronts the Ghost of Christmas Pus, is a fall-on-the-floor laughing dissection of an NYT Op-Ed of Christmas Day (and after you read it, after reading Wolcott, Wolcott's take is even funnier, so pad your floor for the second fall) ...

The op-ed page of The New York Times dropped quite a meatball into the Christmas stocking this morning--a poem by Paul Muldoon titled Myrrh that syrrh was awful. If I didn't have a touching faith in human nature, I'd suspect a put-on, and yet I fear the poem and poet are sincere. It begins:

And our good friend Barry Crimmins rings up Sir! Bah Humbug! Sir! in his ever-brilliant style;

At CNN they even squeezed in their Chief Pentagon Apologist Barbara Starr (you know her, she 's the one with a face that warns: don't lie or you'll end up looking like this) filing her annual report concerning NORAD's heartwarming 'tracking' of Santa's Christmas Eve journey. (He's currently over Australia!). What a charming way for the military to endear itself to impressionable children it can't start openly recruiting until junior high school.

Starr told us the military was tracking the "intruder" but she assured us that Santa's movements would only be monitored. How magnanimous of Pentagon brass not to scramble jets to shoot down St. Nick! Do we ever stop benefiting from a strong military? God bless us, every one!

And to all, a good night ...

Twelve Days of Dubya ...The Twelfth Day

Drum roll, please...

We made it!

Dubya is tapped out, unloading all his gifts this Christmas season. No doubt, he’s likely to toss a few more bonus tidings before the month is out.

And, I suppose, we have to wonder if he used his Executive Powers, and freshly-minted Signing Statement to snoop and open the letter Senate Leader Harry Reid and House Speaker Nancy Pelosi sent to him today.

As we have encouraged the past 11-days, keeping with the spirit of things, feel free to sing out loud.

Twelve Days of Dubya ...The Twelfth Day

On the twelfth day of Christmas,

my Dubya sent to me

Twelve numbing speeches,

Eleven goats a-petting,

Ten WHIGs a-fabricating,

Nine wards a-flooding,

Eight aides a-spinning,

Seven Signing Statements,

Six priests a-praying,

Five golden lies,

Four of Cheney’s birds,

Three French Freedom Fries,

Two Fed-Soc Judges,

And a backrub at the G8

Links

Twelve Days of Christmas (Or Twelvetide)

A Tip-of-the-Hat to Carols.org

Twas The Night Before The New Congress

Garlic Christmas Special - David Sedaris Christmas Letter

Twelve Days of Dubya ...The Eleventh Day

Editors Note: We’re going Old School and stretching out this Christmas Season with a special Garlic rendition of the holiday classic, The Twelve Days of Christmas, with postings of a stanza each night, beginning tonight, and running through January 6, 2007.

Keeping with the spirit of things, feel free to sing out loud.

Twelve Days of Dubya ...The Eleventh Day

On the eleventh day of Christmas,

my Dubya sent to me

Eleven goats a-petting,

Ten WHIGs a-fabricating,

Nine wards a-flooding,

Eight aides a-spinning,

Seven Signing Statements,

Six priests a-praying,

Five golden lies,

Four of Cheney’s birds,

Three French Freedom Fries,

Two Fed-Soc Judges,

And a backrub at the G8

Links

Twelve Days of Christmas (Or Twelvetide)

A Tip-of-the-Hat to Carols.org

Twas The Night Before The New Congress

Garlic Christmas Special - David Sedaris Christmas Letter

Twelve Days of Dubya ...The Tenth Day

Editors Note: We’re going Old School and stretching out this Christmas Season with a special Garlic rendition of the holiday classic, The Twelve Days of Christmas, with postings of a stanza each night, beginning tonight, and running through January 6, 2007.

Keeping with the spirit of things, feel free to sing out loud.

Twelve Days of Dubya ...The Tenth Day

On the tenth day of Christmas,

my Dubya sent to me

Ten WHIGs a-fabricating,

Nine wards a-flooding,

Eight aides a-spinning,

Seven Signing Statements,

Six priests a-praying,

Five golden lies,

Four of Cheney’s birds,

Three French Freedom Fries,

Two Fed-Soc Judges,

And a backrub at the G8

Links

Twelve Days of Christmas (Or Twelvetide)

A Tip-of-the-Hat to Carols.org

Twas The Night Before The New Congress

Garlic Christmas Special - David Sedaris Christmas Letter

Twelve Days of Dubya ...The Ninth Day

Editors Note: We’re going Old School and stretching out this Christmas Season with a special Garlic rendition of the holiday classic, The Twelve Days of Christmas, with postings of a stanza each night, beginning tonight, and running through January 6, 2007.

Keeping with the spirit of things, feel free to sing out loud.

Twelve Days of Dubya ...The Ninth Day

On the ninth day of Christmas,

my Dubya sent to me

Nine wards a-flooding,

Eight aides a-spinning,

Seven Signing Statements,

Six priests a-praying,

Five golden lies,

Four of Cheney’s birds,

Three French Freedom Fries,

Two Fed-Soc Judges,

And a backrub at the G8

Links

Twelve Days of Christmas (Or Twelvetide)

A Tip-of-the-Hat to Carols.org

Twas The Night Before The New Congress

Garlic Christmas Special - David Sedaris Christmas Letter

Twelve Days of Dubya ...The Eighth Day

Editors Note: We’re going Old School and stretching out this Christmas Season with a special Garlic rendition of the holiday classic, The Twelve Days of Christmas, with postings of a stanza each night, beginning tonight, and running through January 6, 2007.

Keeping with the spirit of things, feel free to sing out loud.

Twelve Days of Dubya ...The Eighth Day

On the eighth day of Christmas,

my Dubya sent to me

Eight aides a-spinning,

Seven Signing Statements,

Six priests a-praying,

Five golden lies,

Four of Cheney’s birds,

Three French Freedom Fries,

Two Fed-Soc Judges,

And a backrub at the G8

Links

Twelve Days of Christmas (Or Twelvetide)

A Tip-of-the-Hat to Carols.org

Twas The Night Before The New Congress

Garlic Christmas Special - David Sedaris Christmas Letter

Twelve Days of Dubya ...The Seventh Day

Editors Note: We’re going Old School and stretching out this Christmas Season with a special Garlic rendition of the holiday classic, The Twelve Days of Christmas, with postings of a stanza each night, beginning tonight, and running through January 6, 2007.

Keeping with the spirit of things, feel free to sing out loud.

Twelve Days of Dubya ...The Seventh Day

On the seventh day of Christmas,

my Dubya sent to me

Seven Signing Statements,

Six priests a-praying

Five golden lies,

Four of Cheney’s birds,

Three French Freedom Fries,

Two Fed-Soc Judges,

And a backrub at the G8

Links

Twelve Days of Christmas (Or Twelvetide)

A Tip-of-the-Hat to Carols.org

Twas The Night Before The New Congress

Garlic Christmas Special - David Sedaris Christmas Letter

Twelve Days of Dubya ...The Sixth Day

Editors Note: We’re going Old School and stretching out this Christmas Season with a special Garlic rendition of the holiday classic, The Twelve Days of Christmas, with postings of a stanza each night, beginning tonight, and running through January 6, 2007.

Keeping with the spirit of things, feel free to sing out loud.

Twelve Days of Dubya ...The Sixth Day

On the sixth day of Christmas,

my Dubya sent to me

Six priests a-praying,

Five golden lies,

Four of Cheney’s birds,

Three French Freedom Fries,

Two Fed-Soc Judges,

And a backrub at the G8

Links

Twelve Days of Christmas (Or Twelvetide)

A Tip-of-the-Hat to Carols.org

Twas The Night Before The New Congress

Garlic Christmas Special - David Sedaris Christmas Letter