A Merry Christmasolstikwaneidmukuh Card from raincoaster

Evil Elf, yoHappy Whateveryoucelebrate! I have at last given up the search for cards that actually say “Merry Christmas” as there aren’t any. Either I’ll dig out the ones my mother left when she died 20 years ago, or I’ll just give in to ecumenicism, although it is extremely unnatural and does not in the least express my own, highly dictatorial Christmas-snob impulses.

In the meantime, I made you a card. Check it out; looks like I was wrong all these years. I actually CAN dance! Of course, to preserve my precious blogging anonymity I’ve left my mask in place. Stolen from PerezHilton, who also has some pretty fine moves, but then, he’s Cuban.

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scared of Santa slideshow

At least SOMEONE is having fun!

You know, there are some jobs that just don’t pay enough. Iain Dale thinks being a British MP should entitle one to a cool hundred thousand a year, but name me one MP who routinely gets peed on (Oaten‘s not still an MP, is he?) as well as screamed at, and who is forced to wear such ridiculous and overheated gear. If they made them dress funny, THEN it might be worth paying them more. I think Bozo outfits would be appropriate, don’t you? The Brits only make lawyers dress up like that nowadays, and I am sure the opportunity to dress like a relatively sane member of society circa 1986 is what attracts so many lawyers to the service of their country through politics.

Yeah, that’s what it is.

In any case, looming large among jobs you couldn’t pay me enough to do is this: Shopping Mall Santa.

And why? Let’s examine this Chicago Tribune slideshow of over 60 photos dating back to the Fifties. It’s entitled Scared of Santa, and for obvious reasons. Enjoy.

As for me and my sibling-unit, the only time we had such an incident was one time my sister, a mere toddler in a velvet miniskirt, misunderstood the way the deal worked and demanded her present before she would leave Santa‘s lap. This was, naturally, refused. Through the sonic firestorm that ensued, my father had difficulty making the actual terms understood, and finally resorted to the old trick of picking up something shiny and throwing it off-camera, so she’d scamper off in pursuit. Worked like the proverbial charm, of course, as Santa and I exchanged confidential winks.

To this day I understand that she treasures this length of tinsel, but I do not believe that her appreciation of it at the moment of gifting was as great as Santa‘s, my father’s, or, indeed, my own.

Look! It’s V for Santa! She must be a fascist!

V for Santa

Watch out, fatman; she’s got a mean left hook!

Why I aughtta...

and sometimes it’s simply unanimous!

Santa and the boys are as of one mind

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Cthristmas Ctharols for Cthulhu

Merry Cthristmas! 

The Carol of the Old Ones:

Performed by The Dagon Tabernacle Choir:
Rebecca Marcotte, Digby Dolmen, J.D. Titan, and Walter Forsythe.

SOPRANO (LEAD) VOCAL

Look to the sky, way up on high
There in the night stars are now right.
Eons have passed: now then at last
Prison walls break, Old Ones awake!
They will return: mankind will learn
New kinds of fear when they are here.
They will reclaim all in their name;
Hopes turn to black when they come back.
Ignorant fools, mankind now rules
Where they ruled then: it’s theirs again

Stars brightly burning, boiling and churning
Bode a returning season of doom

Scary scary scary scary solstice
Very very very scary solstice

Up from the sea, from underground
Down from the sky, they’re all around
They will return: mankind will learn
New kinds of fear when they are here

Look to the sky, way up on high
There in the night stars are now right.
Eons have passed: now then at last
Prison walls break, Old Ones awake!
Madness will reign, terror and pain
Woes without end where they extend.
Ignorant fools, mankind now rules
Where they ruled then: it’s theirs again

Stars brightly burning, boiling and churning
Bode a returning season of doom

Scary scary scary scary solstice
Very very very scary solstice

Up from the sea, from underground
Down from the sky, they’re all around.

Fear

Look to the sky, way up on high
There in the night stars now are right)

They will return

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Darth Vader celebrates the season

 Darth Vader builds his dream. Awwwwww!

No heart is so hardened that it cannot be touched by the magic of Christmas. Ah, Christmas, the season when dreams come true, when magic is everywhere, and when Darth Vader takes time out from empire-building and torturing his enemies to build a dream made of snow.

Ladies and gentlemen, via Fark comes the Darth Vader Happy Holidays Snow Globe:

Me! Wants! Me! Wantssssss!

Dude’s building the Death Star, out of snow!  And he’s all crouching down and shit!  If that isn’t the cutest thing since Admiral Ackbar intentionally synched his “fall back into the chair” motion so his neck would hit his seat’s headrest at the exact moment the Super Star Destroyer crashed into Death Star II at the end of Return of the Jedi, I don’t know what in the hell is.

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a Christmas Cthulhu Cephalopodcast

Merry Squidmas! 

[odeo= http://odeo.com/audio/3525903/view%5D

Yes, boys and girls, it’s that time of the year again. A time for presents, and family, and snowdrifts, and tentacles. So here, just in time for solstice, is your Cthulhu podcast and Christmas Squid Roundup. That’s what you call a group of Deep Ones, you know, a pod. And when they’re also featured players in the solstice pageant, they’re obviously a …

can you see it coming?

pod…cast.

And here are your lyrics:

Blue Solstice

based on “Blue Christmas” by Billy Hayes and Jay Johnston, 1948, lyrics reworked by Elvis Presley
HPLovecraft Historical Society Lyrics by Sean Branney from the album An Even Scarier Solstice

Music to Blue Christmas © Billy Hayes & Jay Johnston
Blue Solstice lyrics, recording, all original content ©2006 HPLHS, Inc.
violators of HPLHS copyrights will be hunted by the Hounds of Tindalos through angular geometry

LYRICS

II’ll have a blue solstice, Cthulhu.
I’ll be so blue thinking what you’ll do.
Sacrifices of red on the blue open sea
Won’t mean a thing until you’re here with me.

Until your blue nightmares awake me
And all my blue angels forsake me
You’ll be down in your tomb,
In cyclopean gloom
And I’ll have a blue, blue blue blue solstice.

(spoken) Oh Cthulhu, baby, c’mon up out of that tomb. I can’t stop thinking about your huge flabby claws, them little wings of yours, that grotesque scaly body, and them big ol’ tentacles wrapped around me. Oh darlin’, I can’t go on without you.

You’ll be down in your tomb
In cyclopean gloom
And I’ll have a blue, blue blue blue solstice.

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