Joseph has the blue dress here, while Mary – the hussy – gets red. They both look happy and startled, as though someone they’ve fancied for quite a while has nipped them on the bum. Baby Jesus also looks startled: he’s not quite certain what it’s all about, but wahey. A definite touch of Hitchhiker’s Guide whale about this Baby Jesus.
A nativity scene isn’t something I thought of having before I saw this one. There’s no clutter of supporting cast: no shepherds, heavenly host, innkeeper, or three kings bringing Mould, Grrr and Frankenstein (honest, Zig, that’s what they took, ignore what the songs say, I'm your mum, would I lie?). Baby Jesus, Mary, Joseph, stable, and that star.
That star. I wink at the star and it winks back.
Christians the world over celebrate the story of the nativity as validation of the beginnings of their faith. I celebrate the story of the nativity as validation that two millennia of Church insecurity can’t knock what I do on the head. That central to the story of the birth of their saviour are some blokes interpreting a portent in the sky.
I skipped the carol service this year. Wonder if the vicar gave the same sermon as last. He is very sweet, and tries very hard to be open. I like him. He beamed as he called the magi astronomers. Astronomers. Oh, for fuck sake vicar, how does the methodology of astronomy find a Messiah? Come on vic, say the word, spit it out. Constantine was a long while ago, and you know the man had issues. Say. The. Word.
Just for me.
Things To Do
Cake:
Pressies:
Pressies from kids:
Cards:
Decorations:
Christmas dinner: yeah, right.
Booze:
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