In Defense of Ring Around a Roses

Brief History: First, let’s get one thing straight - this isn’t about the bubonic plague. I know the whole of the internet wants to fight me on this and I even let people think it is because I’ve been told I sound like an insistent snob when I argue about it. For the sake of this blog, I’ll be stating the facts as I know them. But also, just to be honest I thought this Mother Goose rhyme was about the Black Plague for a long time. First of all, the Black Death was most prominent in the 14th Century and then popped up around Europe in large patches every 20 to 40 years until the 1600s. The earliest versions of “Ring Around the Roses” can only be traced to the late 1700s and that’s German version which seems very different in meaning. That doesn’t mean that it isn’t about a disease, but most historians think cholera or scarlet fever would be more likely. Other theories include it being about fairy rings, old pagan well-wishes (although this falls into that timing problem again), and simply being a children’s game full of superstitious phrases meant to bring good luck.

Analysis: In keeping with the disease them, people really didn’t start that theory until after WWI. But it makes sense with modern versions, but again, still can’t be the Black Plague. “Ring around a roses” was rumored to be what patterns the Black Death left on the body. The Bubonic plague didn’t cause rashes like people think, it causes horrible, puss filled growths in key areas of the body. This would be more logical with other diseases, specifically scarlet fever. By the Nineteenth Century, doctors still believed good smells could ward off sickness, hence the posies, and “all fall down” you know. However, earliest versions had nothing to do with the dark sounds of ashes and falling. They were about rose trees and squatting and being the first to win the game.
Blame it on the Spanish Flu: After Wold War I the world changed, not just from weapons and economic depression, but from the widespread and misnamed Spanish Flu. You can look up the Flu for yourself . It’s been in the media a lot lately. I suggest BioGraphics youtube channel’s take on it, which includes medical research as well as how it spread and effected society. By World War II, soldiers were mostly like haunted by the diseases of their predecessors and had sickness on the brain. What else did the they have on the brain? Anything they could think of which included old Mother Goose recitations. You have to keep your mind active in the down time and what better way than to speculate how the most common child rhyme could be a link the most famous disease in history?
Final Thoughts: Where’s the Covid 19 Nursery Rhyme, huh?

In Defense of Ladybird Ladybird

Brief History: No, sadly this isn’t about the Greta Gerwig film (which is fantastic, by the way). It’s about a Ladybug who is told to hurry home because her children died in a home fire, save for one named Ann. It’s hard to say just how old this one is, but it was first published in the 1700s and earlier version were just about a link between bugs and fairies. Sometimes it’s associated with a game of saying the rhyme when I ladybug lands on a child then the kid makes a wish when the insect flies away. Ladybugs are good luck in many cultures as symbols of the Virgin Mary, Norse goddess Freya, Greek god Zeus, and Egyptian sacred scarabs.

Analysis: The house burning aspect of the most popular versions are theorized to be about the persecution of witches or Catholics in Europe. There’s also the idea of it being about the superstitions that create ties between insects and disease or insects and harvest. For it being so dark initially, Ladybird Ladybird actually doesn’t have a super dark analysis to it. Oh wait. Unless you count all of those Catholics and witches burned at stakes.
Blame it on the Victorians: Other than an outbreak of ladybugs ruins the world’s citrus crop in the 1800s, I got nothing here except the usual morbidity in children’s lit the Victorians loved. But the citrus thing happened in California and Florida so can I actually write about it in this section? Too late, already did.
Final Thoughts: I want to know more about Ann, the surviving ladybug child. How much will bug therapy cost after such trauma? Why isn’t there a verse about that?

In Defense of Oranges and Lemons

Brief History: This nursery rhyme starts off with a list of church bells in London and ends with the lines, “Here comes a candle to light you to bed, And here comes a chopper to chop off your head! Chip chop chip chop the last man is dead”. This includes a game just like London Bridges where the last person under the folded hands of two other people gets their head “chopped off”. The reason for the “Oranges and Lemons” is because several of the neighborhoods within the poem were places where fruit was either imported or sold. Earliest versions weren’t quite this dark, mostly just giving aspects of London near each church bell, but some believe this is related to the movement of the plague through the city one of the many times it held the people hostage. There are also theories that the earlier versions were a metaphor for marriage and the “chopper” was a reference to the awkward wedding night. One final theory involves the tour of neighborhoods trying to warn of things needing avoidance like crime and drugs.

Analysis: First time I ever heard this rhyme was probably in the 1951 film Scrooge, but I never really noticed it. Places where I did notice it were the book 1984 by George Orwell, the original Wicker Man Film, The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman, and the episode of Doctor Who entitled the God Complex. All of these aspects of media do no bode well for uses of this song. Need another example? How about a 1940s thriller/horror film called 7th Victim? It’s about a young woman who moves to the city after her successful and beautiful older sister goes missing. The main character is signing the final lines to a group of smiling elementary children. Oh yeah and it the first movie to try taking a serious look at Satanist cults. . . just saying. Do I really need to analyze this.

Blame It on the Victorians: Sooooo the addition of the bit about chopping off heads was first recorded during the Victorian era. What was wrong with them?

Final Thoughts: That’s right! I’m torturing all of us with a song about a tour of London. Someday we will be able to leave our houses again. Someday.

In Defense of London Bridges

Brief History: This is a pretty well know rhyme, but just in case you never heard this repetitive ditty, this is the story of the failing construction and locking up ladies. There’s actually nine verses, yet still no clear plot! It goes as far back as the Middle Ages, when Britain was under shifting control from Saxons to Danes… or was it the other way around. Over 600 plus years the bridge was built and rebuilt while suspected of being the witness to major events. The transition from pagan tradition to Christian culture (some people theorized that the bridge’s structural issues came from not performing a sacrificial ritual of a child upon its first creation - nothing says stand strong for 600 years like the blood of kid, I guess). A Viking attack. Heads of traitors on pikes to warn enemies sailing on the Thames River. The drowning of a Jewish ship being exiled from London. Tudor hops and homes built on the bridge’s surface adding weight to the crumbling stones. Basically, the bridge kept literally falling down and being rebuilt. When they were going to rebuild it again in the 1970s, a rich man bought the crumbling bridge and took it to the United States.

Analysis: Here is where I’m going to talk about the unnamed “lady”. It’s been speculated that the lady is a historical figure connected with the bridge. There were at least two medieval queens who either had connections to the construction or taxing of the London Bridge. Some think the lady, called Lady Lee in some older versions, could be a reference to the Leigh family of nobles who held political power for a time when a member became Mayor of London. I think it’s more likely that the Lady is a metaphor instead of a specific person. A tad disappointing and less morbid than my usual choice of theories, but hear me out. There are 3 main metaphor theories I found:

1) the Lady represents the Virgin Mary and her protecting the city from Viking attacks.

2) the Lady is the River Lea which connects to the Thames. . . Not sure what the significance is of that and it’s boring metaphor. Maybe the Rive Lea had less waste in it until it mixed with the Thames?

3) the Lady represents human sacrifice. Beside the sacrifice of a child to secure the strength of a bridge, Romans believed in the “sacrifice of a shadow” to strengthen a new bridge. A person stood near the bridge’s foundation and their shadow was measured. Bridge builders would bury the measurement in the stones. What’s the catch? It was believed that the owner of the shadow used would died within 40 days. So dance along, Lady Lee.

Blame it on the Victorians: From the 1700s up to the 1900s, parents loved to teach their kids rhymes that could be sung a round like London Bridges, Ring Around the Roses, Row Row Row your Boat, and Oranges and Lemons. Most of these had a darkness or moral lesson to them (look up Orange and Lemons and wonder how decapitation got into a kids’ song). By the time the Victorian era was ending, the darkness the was a part of life. It wouldn’t be until post-WWII culture would start to clean up nursery rhymes to protect their kids from the darkness.

Final Thoughts: You know where London Bridge is now - ARIZONA! You know. The desert with very few natural large water sources. Look it up! Also look up the movie Bridge Across Time staring David Hasselhoff as a Lake Havasu City lawman hunting down the ghost of Jack the Ripper.

Upcoming Blogs - In Defense of

Just to announce and prepare: the next few blogs on this page will be In Defense of Mother Goose. However, since we all have staying healthy and at home on the brain, the selection will be based on Nursery Rhymes related to the importance of being kept inside or to major catastrophic events. There’s surprisingly quite a few, however the history behind them is sparse. So we’ll see how long this will be the theme before the lack of accessible research drives me mad.

Travel? What's that?

Have you found yourself repeatedly listening to songs like “Go the Distance” and “Life is a Highway”? Have you been obsessing over movies with distant places in the title like Under the Tuscan Sun and An American Werewolf in London? Did you check yourself spending an hour and a half scrolling through Google maps trying to figure out the easiest ways to get through the 5 boroughs of New York City?

It sounds like the lack of a vacation away from you living room in the midst of the Covid-19 pandemic is finally getting to you. But there’s another suggestion. How about a trip to Imagination Land! Oh look, a store made of ice cream! And there’s a stampede of llama wearing top hats! Oh boy! Let’s ride on the Zeppelin that runs on a dislike for people who refuse to wear masks in public!

What? I’m fine. Why do you ask?

Shadow Moon: A Tale of Defeat

Raise your hand if you love the film Willow. I know there are lots of you otherwise Disney wouldn’t be dusting it off and bringing it back with new small-screen stories. But I’m not here to talk about the new. I’m here to talk about the past, a painful, painful past.

Now, raise your had if you tied to read the trilogy of novels written by George Lucas and Chris Claremont that provided a sequel to the popular 80s film. Fewer of you. That’s to be expected. Lastly, raise your hand if you actually finished that trilogy. What? Is that crickets I hear? I thought as much.

I owned multiple copies of the first book. Many purchased it for me based on the many amazing elements that were put into this literary endeavor. First, it was supposed be the tale of the beloved baby, Elora Danan, grown up. Everyone knew how much I loved that movie and the idea of giving me more of the story seemed like such a great idea at the time. Second there was the artwork, simplistic yet detailed with many of the earmarks of mid-90s fantasy. Characters had a Boris Vallejo quality while still showing the feminine character as heroic. Plus, there was a dragon on one. Thanks artist Ciruelo Cabral for the artwork. I think I stared at the cover longer than I actually spent reading the book. Third, this was 1995. We still believed in George Lucas as a writer. This was before the dark time of the prequels. And this was a post-X-men Phoenix Saga world. We had complete faith in Chris Claremont’s ability to give us something featuring our favorite characters and make it epic.

I can’t give you an actual review of these books because, despite trying many, many times, I NEVER FINISHED EVEN THE FIRST ONE. About every 5 year starting in 1996 or 1997 through my college years I tried. Each time I read I made it a little farther in the first novel and every just that little bit would take me a weirdly long amount of time. I can give you a little synopsis of what I read: Willow has a dream of riding on talking dragon, sees a baby Elora again, and then some critical characters are killed off. That’s just the first two chapters and that’s as far as I ever got.

I looked the novel up on Wikipedia and whoever wrote the entry must have made it about as far as I did because their synopsis is just a longer version of what I just gave in the above paragraph. This book did not get great reviews.

So why? Why was is such a let-down? Why can’t I get beyond chapter 2? Did anybody? Did anyone finish the whole series? Were they satisfied with the ending? No. Really. I want to know because I feel like this story is a valuable waiting for writers to share. Please comment below if you have an answer. Thanks

Here’s a link to the first book’s front cover:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shadow_Moon_(novel)#/media/File:Shadow_Moon_(novel).jpg

Grant: A Historical Rant about a Historical Mini-Series

I know I’m a little late on this review, but I finally finished History Chanel’s 3 part mini-series about Ulysses S. Grant. Also, think of this sort of like a Yelp review - even though I mostly enjoyed this series, this review is for me to vent about what was missing in my opinion. This my pretentious Karen moment, but every now and again you have to get it out of your system.

First, the good stuff.
1) They tried to downplay alcoholism as an actual issue and disease, not just a character flaw nor the reason for problems with his presidency.

2) Multiple historians were used instead if the same 4 white dudes who they use for all of the WWII stuff.

3) Fisher Stevens, Ron Chernow, and Leonardo DiCaprio were amongst the producers. I just think that’s cool.

4) It depicted Grant as a real person showing the good and the bad.

5) The focus on Grant’s changing views about African American rights and how complicated it was. His parents were abolitionists. His in-laws were slave owners. But he was one of the Union generals who actually pushed to let Black men join the army.

5) There was good use of Civil War re-enactments and virtual maps.

Stuff that bugged me.

1) Not enough about his relationships with his wife and kids. I know the focus was on his time in the war, but they managed to fit in plenty about how his dad picked on him and how his peers/buddies felt about him.

2) Where was his love of marbles? You think that’s not important. Then you don’t understand Grant’s marble and how he never lost them.

3) The fake beards were just…just awful. Lee’s and Lincoln’s were especially bad. The actors looked like they had carpet samples on their faces.

4) Now, the real thing that irked me- the lack of detail about Grant’s fight for Native American rights. One of my favorite Grant stories is how he became friends with a Seneca lawyer named Ely Parker when Parker came to his rescue in a bar fight! It’s a great story! Then, Parker wanted to join the army and was told by Secretary of State William Seward that the Civil War was a “white man’s war”, Grant went over Seward’s head and made Parker his military secretary. Parker wrote the surrender at Appomattox! He got respect from Lee! And when Grant was president, he and Parker tried (and failed) to give indigenous people more rights as U.S. citizens. But by all means, feel free to skip over most of that 4 hour documentary.

Parker, some other guy, and Grant at Appomattox. Okay, I was too busy ranting to find out who the middle dude is. Sorry.

Still Sneezing

Can’t concentrate. Head too full of goo. What? I know it’s been a week! Allergies don’t have a schedule! I mean, they can be seasonal, which is sort of like a schedule, but - You know what. Shut up!

List of things you should stop saying to people with bad allergies:

1. Have some local honey!

   We have the honey. We have all of the honey. Why can’t you find honey? Because of your allergic friends.

2. I take so and so. You should try it!

   Oh, we’ve all tried it, but thanks for trying

3. Shots are supposed to be helpful

   Been there. Done that.

4. Wait, you have a cat and you’re allergic? You should get rid of it.

   You shut your filthy mouth! I mean. . . No. I stand by my “shut your filthy mouth” response.

For those of you feel like I’m just being whiny and grumpy, that’s great. Let me get back to sneezing and come back next week when I can breathe better. For those of you who understand why I am grumpy, may solidarity carry us through the spring and may panicky people stop buying all of the tissues.

Loss of Con for a Single Year

Uh. Huh. What? Where? Who? Huh.

I don’t know what to do with myself. I woke up and started to drive into downtown phoenix and then I realized I could have slept in. This also explained why there were no booth products crammed into my car. And why people gave my cosplay weird looks. Hey lady! If I want to dress up like the Tiger King that’s my business! Personally, I look good in a mullet.

In all seriousness, I know the con is just postponed, yet this is all still a weird feeling. I’ve been a part of this scene since the con was held out in Mesa and I was just a cute college student trying to attract customers to my brother’s table.

So what do we all do. We adjust to the new normal, as the media keeps saying. We show off our wares online. We show off wigs and weapons using Zoom. We support our local artists and eateries as best we can. And we geek on.

Be Kind to 2020 Graduates

The 2020 graduates are having an adventure and like most adventures it’s unplanned and sucky at the beginning. Some of the kids are the first American high school graduates in their family. Instead of airhorns and bobby-pined caps, they get being gathered around a screen waiting to see their name.

Many are trying to make this disappointment easier with celebrity speeches through Zoom and special events for student body presidents and valedictorians. Yet, there is a section of the population who keep very publicly telling these kids that things could be worse.

Put this adventure of these young people into perspective. Yes. Things could be worse. But this something they worked at for four years. Some while working multiple jobs, taking care of younger siblings, doing community service, temporary homelessness, dealing with family tragedy, and even learning a new language because they are new to this country. Some think teenagers are just whiners, but so many kids in this country have overcome all of the outside crap that children shouldn’t have to deal with in order to have this brief moment of pride.

Be kind to them. Give them a ear for them to vent to. Let them whine and then give them hope. Don’t give them stories of your own graduation to envy or try to cheer them up with your own self-indulgences. This moment is about them and it is for them to work through as they need. Be there for them. Be empathetic and sympathetic. Keep them safe in a time of disappointment. Help to make them smile and let them know that it’s okay to be sad. And most importantly, that this strangeness does not take away from their accomplishments. And this is a temporary situation that they can look back on with a story unique to all other graduates.

And remind them, adventures always start with something disappointing or frightening, but at the end they are the heroes who will have their own stories to tell.

An Ode to Spring (Copy)

(Clears throat)

Oh Spring, bringer of life

How I hate thee

With both of my watery eyes

I curse each blossoming tree

With my nose which runs like a river

I despise thy flowers in bloom

Due to thy lack of mercy

I may never be able to leave my room

Nature Studies (in an apartment)

Today we will follow the wild Clyde in his natural habitat. We find the specimen asleep in his tower. This breed prefers high places and sleeping upon carpeted or blanketed surfaces. We must creep up carefully for fear of-

Oh no! We’ve startled the beast. He keeps rubbing his head against my head. Oh the humanity! Stay back, camera man! It’s too dangerous!

This act of physical contact has attracted another creature, the timid Chester. Now although the Chester tends to hide instead of laying in plain sight like the Clyde, a Chester can easily be spotted by the long, orange tail usually left exposed.

The Chester has release his battle cry, a high-pitched meow, a truly pitiful sound. Back! Get back everyone! There’ s not telling how the Clyde will react. The Chester has attempted to climb the tower and the Clyde has given him a warning swipe near his nose. Still, the Chester cries.

And the Clyde tries to escape. He had leapt from the tower and we can see him run through the living room with the Chester close behind him. There is a mighty chase to be had! This is so exciting to catch on film! Look at the beauty of those furry blurs as they-

Aaaaaaand they just noticed a bowl of food and gave up to eat. Oh well.

What if Rapunzel Ran out of Toilet Paper

What if Rapunzel Ran out of Toilet Paper

Once upon a time there was a young woman trapped in a tower by the witch she thought was her mother. The tower had no door and the only way the witch went in or out was by calling for the young woman to throw down her long, luxurious hair.

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!”

And the young woman would throw down her well-conditioned locks which went from the high window nearly to the ground below so her witch-mother could climb up. Everything Rapunzel had came from her mother who never let her go out into the world on her own. All of her food, soap, toothpaste, clothes, and gallons of shampoo only arrived when her mother came to see her each week.

Then, one day Rapunzel realized that she used her final roll of toilet paper. As she desperately searched the tower, Rapunzel realized that it would be three days before her mother would come with more supplies. Her stomach churned from her heavy dinner from that night-

…You know what. Never mind. This is hitting too close to home. Send T.P.

If Sleeping Beauty was Social Isolating

If Sleeping Beauty was Social Isolating

Once upon a time in a far away kingdom, a princess was under a terrible sleeping curse, granted at her birth by an angry fairy. The princess knew nothing of this, only that her parents, the king and queen, were extremely over protective of her. She could not sneeze from a bit of dust without the court physician being called for.

Then, a bought of plague reached their kingdom due to lax trade laws and lack of general hygiene. To keep the beloved princess from catching the disease, she stayed in the castle and everyone agreed to stay at least six feet away from her.

On her sixteenth birthday, knowing she couldn’t have a party, all of the princess’s friend and subjects sent her gifts. She opened each present from a safe distance from even her own parents, who oohed and awwed at each new gown and shawl.

One of the largest gifts in the pile had shiny green and purple wrapping. Everyone thought it was from someone else and were debating such as she opened it. No one noticed as she pulled back the wrapping to see something new to her - a spinning wheel - the exact object which would seal her sleeping curse. By the time the court looked upon it, they were too late to run the six feet across the room and smack the spindle out of the young girl’s hand.

The princess pricked her finger and fell into a hundred year sleep. A good fairy, figuring that this was an option for quarantining the plague any way, put the entire kingdom to sleep.

A century passed behind a wall of thrones before a prince stumbled upon the kingdom. The brambles parted fro him and his heart led the way directly to the sleeping princess. Never in his life had he seen anyone more beautiful. He leaned down over her perfect face and still eyes. His lips pressed into hers. Then, he felt a hand wack him on the back of the head.

He stumbled backwards, his stunned expression attempting to size up the now completely awake princess.

“What is wrong with you?” she yelled. “Don’t you know there’s a plague? I’m social distance, you dick! Why do you just kiss people? Don’t you have any manners?”

Luckily, it had turned out that in the last one hundred years, a cure for that particular strain of plague had been discovered. With the kingdom restored and the people once again relatively healthy, the princess spent time teaching the prince about boundaries. The end.

If Cinderella had been 30

If Cinderella had been 30

Once upon a time there was a grand house where an old woman, her two grown daughters, and her grown step-daughter lived. Since she had been a teenager, the step-daughter had been treated at the servant of the house, made to dress in the ragged, cast-off clothes of her sisters and sleep near the kitchen hearth. Because of her dirty appearance, they called her Cinderella.

Each day, Cinderella toiled endlessly as the only person to keep her demanding family fed and content, knowing that if she were to leave she would have no other opportunities to work. After all, she was 30. A spinster. An old maid. Who would possibly hire her?

One summer day, a messenger arrived at the house declaring there was to be a ball at the royal palace. Cinderella helped her awful step-family prepare as they gloated over their good fortune at having been invited. As they rode away in their rented carriage, she despaired. One night out sounded so nice.

As she went back to scrubbing the floors, a mysterious figure appeared before her. The elderly lady stooped over a cane and smiled down upon Cinderella.

“I suppose you’re wondering where I have been all of this time?” she asked with a kind smile.

Within her mind, Cinderella scoffed, “Actually, I was wondering if you wiped your feet before walking on my clear floor.” Out loud, she demurely asked, "Who are you?”
”Your fairy godmother, of course! I have been waiting for an opportunity like this to be of help you to you!”

“You know of a different place of employment that offers free room and board, but where I won’t be psychologically abused?” Cinderella asked hopefully.

“No silly, I am going to send you to the ball!”

“Oh. That’s good too., but I wouldn’t mind a more permanent solution to my current living situa-”

“Follow me out the the garden!” the fairy godmother interrupted and Cinderella obeyed.

Within twenty minutes, the magic of the strange old lady turned a pumpkin into a carriage, mice into horses, lizards into footmen, a rat into a driver, and Cinderella’s dress into a gorgeous gown draped over delicate glass slippers.

As Cinderella realized how long it had been since she’d worn heels, the fairy godmother chastised her about curfew. “You must leave before midnight or everything will turn back to what it was before. I know it’s a lousy thing to ask, but it must be midnight.”

“Midnight. I won’t forget.” She thanked the strange old lady, climbed into the carriage, and prepared to have her first night out since she was sixteen.

When she arrived, Cinderella was instantly the belle of the ball. The prince, a man who had waited till he was older to marry (which was fairly common in that time period - look it up) was instantly taken with her. This was not only due to her beauty, but her conversation. Truthfully, many of the younger women at the ball had caught his eye, but hours of trying to speak with twenty-one year olds had left him bored. He craved speaking with someone from his own generation.

They danced and talked and Cinderella paid close attention to the clock hung strategically over the ballroom. By nine pm the prince offered her a drink and they both sat down.

He told her of the five diplomatic meetings in a row he’d conducted directly before the ball. She told him of her gardening that had to be finished that day or the carrots and onions would have spoiled. Neither wanted to admit that their feet were killing them.

By 9:30, the elderly king who had been observing all from his comfortable throne went in search of his son. He was curious about the lovely young woman monopolizing the prince’s evening. He found them both on a bench in the palace gardens, fast asleep. The king ordered a blanket to be placed over them.

Midnight struck and the pair of tired adults dozed on the bench, Cinderella’s head resting on the prince’s shoulder. All of her changed back, the only item remaining in its magical state being her glass shoes.

The sun rose and at last the pair awoke. At first, Cinderella panicked, ready to run from the prince with the blanket hiding her grimy dress. However, the prince was a covers hog and managed to pull the blanket with him as he stood to stretch.

“That was a surprisingly good night’s sleep.” He glanced down at her as she awaited the verbal berating. Instead, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Weren’t you wearing- Nevermind. I must’ve been more tire then I thought. Breakfast?”

And so, the prince helped Cinderella up from the bench. She limped slightly as they walked towards the palace doors and her noticed the glass slippers still chiming along the pavement.

He sat her back down and, without any further explanation, ran into the castle without her.

Cinderella owned up her look, deciding it was too late to fuss with the rag on her head or the apron on her waist. She thought maybe the prince was going to get the head cook and maybe offer in a job in the kitchen. Although, it would be hard to see the prince and not be able to speak on equal terms ever again.

When the prince came back, both hands were behind his back. He knelt down before her and asked her to remove her shoes. She did so and he slipped a pair of fuzzy bedroom slippers on her dainty feet. They were like walking on pillows.

“That better?”

She nodded.

And so they ate breakfast and talked. Somehow, breakfast led to marriage and happily ever after where no one ever made them stay up past ten on a long day ever again. That is until their first kid was born. But that’s a different exhausting story.

The End.

If Snow White had been Under Quarentine

If Snow White Had been Under Quarentine

Once upon a time, an evil queen’s vanity made her so jealous of her little step-daughter that she ordered the child’s death. The child was beautiful, with hair black as ebony, lips red as blood, and skin white as snow. Luckily, the little girl was spared by the huntsman. She came across a little cottage in the woods where there were seven little chairs, seven little beds, and a place to hang seven pick-axes hung on the wall.

Snow White, as the child was called, allowed herself inside. She cleaned up the clearly bachelor owned abode and fell asleep in one of the beds.

Seven little men came home that night with news of a disease that had spread from the village. They felt confident and smug as their work kept them from coming in contact with such illnesses. Then, they discovered their clean house and the girl drooling upon one of their pillows. Her lips were bright crimson and her skin was pale as death. Clearly, she was ill and had brought the disease upon them.

The seven dwarfs tripped over one another in a panic to be out of the house. They locked the door behind them and boarded up the windows and doors.

Snow White awoke as they continued to lock her in. She protested through the slats, insisting she wasn’t sick.

“That’s what sick people always say,” one of the oldest of the men declared. “Now you just stay in there under quarantine until the doctor says you can come out.”

“How long will that take?” she cried.

“The closest doctor is a three day ride from here on horseback,” a different man explained.

“Oh. Six days is not so bad. My step-mother locked in my my room for a week once.”

“Yes. But you see we don’t have a horse,” a third man said.

“But don’t worry. There is plenty of food in there for you to eat, little girl,” a fourth dwarf explained.

“We are sorry about this, but aren’t you glad we’re letting you stay in our house. Don’t think we didn’t consider burning it down,” a different dwarf stated.

The sixth dwarf grunted, “Just try not to breathe on anything until we get back.”

At which a seventh dwarf chimed in, “Unless you can do more cleaning and organizing. I mean, it would be the least you could do since we are going to get the doctor for you.”

And so they left her. Snow White started her isolated days easily. She patched up worn-out dwarf clothes and reorganized their sock drawers. When the days were particularly long, she cleaned. When the days felt shorter, she played games with the mice living in the walls.

Then the days started to blend together. Soon, she was speaking to the mice, planning out adventures with them. As this was the time before the internet, her child mind started to come up with her own answers to questions she had about the world. Her conversations with herself went like this:

“Why is a mouse’s tail not as furry as the rest of him?”

“Because, Snow White, is a bitch. That’s why.”

“Oh! Duh. Silly me.”
As the dwarfs had no books, she started using coal to draw and write stories on her walls. These were not as much fun after the mice criticized her tale of a her step-mother choking on a whole onion.

“What do you mean she wouldn’t eat a whole onion? Don’t question my art, mice!” Either way, the onion was changed to an apple.

Snow White didn’t know how many days had gone by (only that trying to cut her own hair had been a bad idea) when the dwarfs finally returned with a man a plague doctor mask. He removed the mask after the boards over one window were removed and he got a good look at her.

“This child isn’t sick. She just needs more sunlight. You seven do you know at the other symptom besides bleeding lips and pale skin is foaming from the mouth right? You’re lucky I don’t report you for child abuse, but as we don’t have laws for that, I guess there’s nothing I can do.”

The dwarfs released Snow White, she punched each of them in their seven faces, and she went back to town with the doctor. Snow White then used the plague mask and a gloves to take a comb, ribbons, and an apple from the home of a diseased family She sent them to her step-mother, waiting for the vain woman to be quarantined, and used the opportunity to take back her kingdom.

The end

In Defense of The Changling (Copy)

It’s almost St. Patrick’s Day - Time for an Irish story!

Brief History: Instead of focusing on a single story, I’ll just give a broad history of the Changeling legend. The general myth is that elves and fairies kidnap beautiful human babies and replace them with their own horrid children or with a piece of faeryland like a branch or log. Sometimes they also kidnapped grown women, creating beautiful mothers to care for the fae children. In order to bring back the kidnapped, you had to make the changeling laugh, treat it with love, or say the right prayer.

Analysis: The idea of having a child who did not seem “right” was a fear of all mothers in the time before psychological or scientific reasoning. The belief that such a child could be saved through simple magic must have been too great of a hope to let go of, which is probably why questioning the belief in changelings lasted until the 1800s in some countries and cultures.

Blame It on the Victorians: In 1895, Bridget Cleary was burned to death by her husband in front of a group of witnesses. Why did the townspeople of Ballyvadlea, Ireland stand by while this man allowed his sick wife to catch fire and burn? Well, because Bridget Cleary had been spirited away and this imposter had to die in order to bring her back? Due to this belief, Michael Cleary was only charged with manslaughter instead of homicide. In Ireland, this true event inspired more nursery rhymes and new fairy tales in which Bridget was a witch.

 Last Thoughts: A good way to make a changeling baby laugh is to boil and cook within an eggshell. Yeah… not really sure how that works, but best to try that before setting someone on fire.

All Saints' Day (Copy)

In the Southwest, Mexico, and some Latin American countries, today is best own as the first day of El Dia de los Muertos, but November 1 also has it’s background in All Hallows Day or Hallowmas.

In Medieval Europe, Halloween lasted three days - All Hallows Eve on the 31st of October, All Hallows Day on November 1, and the Feast of All Souls on November 3 - which were all meant to be days to honor the death and keep one’s own morality in mind. Halloween was part of a Pagan day of harvest. What started as Samhain, a day when the veil between the spirit world and the mortal world was dangerously thin, became a Christian holiday of remembrance. The recently deceased were the most cared for in these celebrations, hoping their souls weren’t lost in Purgatory. All Saint’s and All Soul’s days are for visiting graves, feasting in honor of the dead, and, of course, remember all of those obscure Catholic saints who died in very creative ways.

So what’s with the history lesson, you may ask? I just wanted to point out that, even if you aren’t Catholic, your Halloween celebrations do not need to end just yet. Sacrifices aren’t just for on Halloween, you know. The powers that be need to know that you are serious about your tributes.

So, make a pretty wreath from the bones of your enemies and place it on Grandma’s grave. She will like to know you’re thinking of her even after Halloween is over. And while you are at it, say a prayer to St. Dymphna. Her story sucks. Look it up if you dare.

You Scream, I Scream, We All Scream for Banshee (Copy)

Let’s just take a moment to recognize the lack of banshees used in popular media. Sure, Supernatural used it, as did several other “monster of the week” style TV shows. There are a few times cheesy horror movies have tried to bring back the Banshee without success. Darby O’Gil and the Little People made a good Banshee, which is pretty impressive for a Disney movie where they let Sean Connery sing. In honor of St. Patrick’s Day (and because I’m sick to death of Leprechauns being everywhere) let’s give a little love to the Banshee.

First off, what is a Banshee (for those of you unfamiliar with the creature)? Long answer, it’s a spirit of a woman, sometimes young and sometimes a hag, who combs her hair and wails by the shores of rivers— Eh. Nevermind. Short answer, it’s a spirit that warns of or predicts death by shrieking.

Therefore, let us all shriek, long and loud, in honor of a piece of Irish culture that doesn’t get colored by first graders. Deep breath in and…

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa (gasp) aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

And done.