Here’s how ‘social justice’ ruins the lives of innocent people, even high school students
Up is down, black is white, “justice” means ruining people for no good reason, and we’ve always been at war with Eastasia.
Author: Crowhill Report
The Battle of Life – a Christmas novel by Charles Dickens
The boys drink and review Crowhill’s homebrewed Baltic Porter, then continue their “shortcut to the classics” series.
Dickens didn’t only write A Christmas Carol for Christmas time. He has a few other novels that are called Christmas novels, although it’s not entirely clear why.
In this episode, Pigweed, Crowhill, with special guest Longinus, review and evaluate The Battle of Life.
It’s a love story, of sorts, with colorful characters and a few odd twists and turns.
When did Santa become full-sized?
Pigweed and I had an interesting conversation about Santa the other day. We were looking into the origins of various Christmas traditions, and Pigweed thought Santa was originally portrayed as a little guy until Coca Cola had their iconic image of him full-sized.
His evidence:
1. He’s an elf.
2. “A miniature sleigh with eight tiny reindeer, with a little old driver ….”
3. He slides down the chimney.
Taking them in order, it is true that there are two different traditions when it comes to elves. There are elves as little people (the Keebler elves) — somewhat like Leprechauns, I suppose — and there are elves as full-sized people (Norse Mythology, Tolkien). So that one could go either way with this.
About the miniature sleigh, I had always take that to mean that it was miniature because it was far away — the way you’d see an airplane in the sky. But I have to admit that it doesn’t necessarily mean that.
As to sliding down the chimney, this is a little more complicated. Chimneys come in all sizes, and this is a perpetual problem with the “large Santa” version of the story, usually resolved by magic. A small Santa might not have the same problem. (There’s still the problem of houses with no chimneys, but nobody says Santa has to come down the Chimney.)
On the whole, I prefer the “Santa was always large” interpretation for one simple reason: he’s associated with St. Nick, who was a man. That doesn’t completely answer the issue, since someone who was a man many hundreds of years ago, and is still around, certainly has some magic and trickery going on.
And speaking of Santa, “Fat Man” is a decently fun rental.
Rand Paul’s speech on the Senate floor
Stop Piling Debt on Future Generations, Open the Economy, and Cut Waste in the Budget
The Twelve Days of COVID
On the first day of COVID my true love gave me to me, a fever of one hundred and three.
On the second day of COVID my true love gave to me, two weeks of cloister and a fever of one hundred and three.
On the third day of COVID my true love gave to me, three magazines, two weeks of cloister and a fever of one hundred and three.
On the fourth day of COVID my true love gave to me, four remdesivr, three magazines, two weeks of cloister and a fever of one hundred and three.
On the fifth day of COVID my true love said to me, I can’t taste a thing, [he gave me] four remdesivr, three magazines, two weeks of cloister and a fever of one hundred and three.
On the sixth day of COVID my true love gave to me, six plates of cookies, a tongue that can’t taste a thing, four remdesivr, three magazines, two weeks of cloister and a fever of one hundred and three.
On the seventh day of COVID my true love gave to me, seven books on Kindle, six plates of cookies, a tongue that can’t taste a thing, four remdesivr, three magazines, two weeks of cloister and a fever of one hundred and three.
On the eighth day of COVID my true love gave to me, eight vitamin tablets, seven books on Kindle, six plates of cookies, a tongue that can’t taste a thing, four remdesivr, three magazines, two weeks of cloister and a fever of one hundred and three.
On the ninth day of COVID my true love gave to me, nine prepaid postcards, eight vitamin tablets, seven books on Kindle, six plates of cookies, a tongue that can’t taste a thing, four remdesivr, three magazines, two weeks of cloister and a fever of one hundred and three.
On the tenth day of COVID my true love gave to me, ten weeks of Netflix, nine prepaid postcards, eight vitamin tablets, seven books on Kindle, six plates of cookies, a tongue that can’t taste a thing, four remdesivr, three magazines, two weeks of cloister and a fever of one hundred and three.
On the eleventh day of COVID my true love gave to me, eleven comic books, ten weeks of Netflix, nine prepaid postcards, eight vitamin tablets, seven books on Kindle, six plates of cookies, a tongue that can’t taste a thing, four remdesivr, three magazines, two weeks of cloister and a fever of one hundred and three.
On the twelth day of COVID my true love gave to me, twelve high-zinc gummies, eleven comic books, ten weeks of Netflix, nine prepaid postcards, eight vitamin tablets, seven books on Kindle, six plates of cookies, a tongue that can’t taste a thing, four remdesivr, three magazines, two weeks of cloister and a fever of one hundred and three.