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Ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho, ho
When I touch myself
I touch my ding dong
Ding dong, ding dong
When I take a pee
I touch my big shlong
Ding dong, ding dong
------------------
Saint Nicholas was Bishop of Myra, in what is now
Turkey. Born at Patara, Lycia, he was very religious from an
early age and according to legend, Nicholas was said to have
rigorously observed the canonical fasts. (Despite the food
savings from all the fasting, famines were to become an unfortunate
centerpiece of the St. Nicholas legends. Ironically, Mr.
Jolly, as Nick's close pals called him, steadily achieved greater
and greater personal rotundity throughout his career - fasting and famines be
damned. An oddity to be sure. But where were we . . . oh
yes . . .) while still young, his wealthy parents died in an
epidemic and he was raised by his uncle, also named Nicholas, who
was the Bishop of Patara.
During a great famine in 311–312, a ship was in the
port at anchor, loaded with wheat for the Emperor in Constantinople.
Nicholas implored the sailors to unload a part of the wheat to help
the starving people. The sailors at first disliked the
request, because the wheat had to be weighed accurately and
delivered to the Emperor. But Nick promised them they would not get
in any trouble, so the sailors agreed. When they arrived later in
the capital, the weight of the load had not changed, although the
wheat removed in Myra was reportedly enough to sustain the people
for two years and could even be used for sowing.
During the famine, Nicholas investigated a malicious
butcher who lured three little children into his house, killing
them, and placing their remains in a barrel to cure, planning to
sell them off as ham for meat pies. Our man Nick not only
solved the butcher's horrific crime but also resurrected the three
boys from the barrels.
In the years 312–315, while still a strapping lad (as
his Bishop uncle liked to refer to him revealing an unfortunate lisp while introducing the
beefy studlike, Nick at dinner parties. This was always earlier in the evening
of course, when Uncle Bishop was in a lighter mood. Not
like later. Later when he would get out his collection of
antique vile and hideous devices, many still not
too rusty following their long ago prodigious use during conversion
therapies assisting the non-believers, and play his
demented games, but that's uh . . . a different story, so anyway),
Nick made a pilgrimage to visit the Holy Sepulchre, Golgotha,
Bethlehem, and many other sites in the Holy Land. The first
night upon setting sail on an Egyptian vessel, he dreamed a storm
would put them all at peril. When he awoke in the morning he warned
the sailors that a severe storm was coming. Sure enough, the
sky darkened and strong winds roared round the ship. The wind and
waves made it impossible to keep the ship under control. Even with
lowered sails, the sailors feared for their lives.
One brave sailor climbed the main mast, tightening the
ropes so the mast would not crash onto the deck. As he was coming
back down, he slipped and fell to the deck, motionless. Nicholas
prayed, and the storm did finally quiet, relieving the sailors. Yet
their comfort was dampened by grief over the fallen sailor's plight.
But then, as Nicholas prayed over the seemingly lifeless form, the
sailor awoke unharmed as if he had only been asleep. (And
there was much rejoicing.) The ship completed the journey
to the Holy Land where shortly after his return, ol' Jolly Nicholas
became Bishop of Myra.
In his most famous exploit, Nicholas aided a poor man
who had three daughters, but could not afford a proper dowry for
them. This meant that they would remain unmarried and lacking
employment, would likely become prostitutes. Hearing of the
girls' plight, Nicholas decided to help, but (as he later claimed)
being too modest to do so publicly, and to save them the humiliation
of accepting charity, he began visiting the house under the cover of
night and throwing purses of gold through the window.
Trying to discover the identity of their benefactor,
the father stands watch by the window. But Nicholas
circumvents the fellow's plan dropping yet another bag of gold down
the chimney where a daughter happened to have washed her stockings
that evening, hanging them above the embers to dry. And
wouldn't you know it, that bag of gold fell right into her
stockings.
St. Nick was later cast into prison during the
Persecution of Diocletian, which is considered to be the last and
most severe persecution of Christians in the Roman Empire.
Rome was attempting desperately to maintain civil order in the face
of debilitating civil strife betwixt the cultists. Yet
Constantine finally prevailed. Nick was released after the
accession (though he was absent for several hazy days following
what was by all accounts a party to end the ages). Bishop
Nick was present at the Council of Nicaea in 325. There,
Nicholas became so furious with the heretic Arius during the
council's theological deliberations, that he attacked him. (From
a witness: "Yup I saw it, he slapped him. viciously right in his
face. It was really, really hard and left a red mark and everything,
I swear it to the lawd Yahweh hisself. Do you need me to come
testify officer 'cuz I weel. That there is a monster, a mean
old monster, dats all they is.")
It was illegal for one bishop to strike another (Apparently,
Uncle-Bishops had some sort of loophole, Nick thought to himself
wryly) so Nick was stripped (Gently, tenderly) of his
Bishop's garments, chained, and thrown into a jail cell.
Nicholas spent the night on his knees (. . .) praying.
When the jailer came in the morning, he found the chains loose on
the floor and Nicholas dressed in Bishop's robes, quietly reading
the Scriptures. It was determined that no one could have paid a
visit to Nick during the night. (Of course now there was that gloating
satisfied smirk everybody saw that same morning on the face of The
White Duke - that big fat black guy who was kicking back in the jail cell across
from St. Nick. You remember Duke? They used to call him
. . . "The
Jackal". He was that big-ass bitch-maka gangsta
runnin' block C, or maybe that was big ass-bitch maka gansta
satisfyin' block C, ya know based on his new nickname, not sure,
anyhow him settin' there grinnin' ear to ear as Nick gingerly
hobbled out of jail that day . . . didn't mean
anything at all, not one thing, not even worthy of note really . . .
moving on). Constantine ordered Nicholas freed and reinstated as
the Bishop of Myra.
Saint Nicholas of Myra was known for his generosity towards
children. He had a reputation for secret gift-giving, such as
putting coins in the shoes of those who left them out for him, a
practice celebrated on his feast day, December 6.
As for the final resting place of jolly old St. Nick,
originally he was supposed to have been set to rest at Nicholas'
tomb in Myra. One story has it that in 1087, Italian merchants
took his body from Myra, bringing it to Bari in Italy. Another
legend has it that the relics of Saint Nicholas were stolen from
Myra by Norman Crusaders in the 12th century and
buried near Thomastown, Kilkenny, where a stone slab marks
the site locally believed to be his grave. |
When I look at thee
I touch my ding dong
Ding dong, ding dong
When I go to the beach
I where a big thong
For my ding dong, ding dong
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Coldcut
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JC Setlist
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Tunelist
So, to summarize, the actual St. Nick was (either . . .) a
miracle man in the flesh sent down by the Almighty his-self to do
some fairly "specific" holy deeds . . . . or, just possibly, he was
a fairly twisted dude:
- He conned a bunch of sailors by replacing some of their
wheat with chaff. While the legend states the wheat was
given by Nick to the folks in Myra in true pre-Robinhoodian
style, and was "enough to sustain the people 2 years", it isn't
clear if any of that sustaining actually happened. It is
clear that St. Nicholas kept on increasing waistline-wise
though. That bit's beyond dispute.
- He was involved in a scheme to make meat pies out of some
children. So . . . not sayin' he was definitely a
cannibal, but if it quacks like a duck . . . Still,
dude really did have an odd knack for getting fatter despite the
pervasive famines throughout the lands. Fine, he was the
hero of the day here apparently, and actually saved the children
according to the story.
- But was he? Let's look at the facts. Maybe
St. Nick wasn't a cannibal, but he may have had other flaws.
Nick's story is he was looking for these missing children, and
found their remains in some barrels curing to be made into meat
pies. He points at the butcher, Zed, and says, "Zed said,
he confessed, he did it." But then Zed's wife storms in
and returns the pointed finger at Nickypoo, screaming, "You
can't make Zed take the fall for this. We ain't into
whatever you sicko's do with these kids after we get 'em fer ya",
and stomps out. The angry villagers turn toward Nick, but
Nick is on his game that day. "Not only am I telling the
truth about how Butcher Zed and his loud wife murdered these
helpless children to make meat pies, I'll resurrect your young
ones for you too!" The townsfolk are awestruck, and
desperately hopeful. "Stand back and be witness to another of
Nick's Marvelous Miracles (Trademark Pending)!" Then he
whispers into one of the holes in the barrels, "I'll only let
you out if you promise not to tell, I'll be watching. I'm
always watching." "Ok, ok mister please just let us out,"
they whimper. "And then voila!", he proudly pronounces to
the crowd with a flourish of his bright red Persian bathrobe.
And out sprang all three children safe and sound. Well
perhaps not as sound as beforehand. One jumped off a
building I heard, and the other two joined a boy band. So
yeah. Anyway, Nick is proclaimed a hero, the Butcher and
his wife are burned at the stake that very afternoon and that's
that. Right? Right. Yeah, we know the score
you jolly old corncob suckin' sick bastard!
- He conned another bunch of sailors into treating him like
a total king during the voyage. Ok, this one is classic.
So St. Nick notices a red sky one morning. He knows of a
theory that this means the weather might take a turn, so he
tells the sailors there's bad weather ahead. When the
weather rolls in, the sailors are all like, hmm ok maybe a
coincidence or maybe we're in the company of the best weatherman
like ever. That's when Nicky baby gets his co-conspiritorial
buddy Cletus to climb up the rigging and fake like he falls down
and dies. Nick rushes over first, of course, as the
curious sailors gather 'round. Then Cletus jumps up sayin',
"by the graces uh-the gods I's cured". And bam, they're
both treated like royalty the rest of the trip. Well, Nick
is anyway. Cletus, not so much, what with his pagan
worshipful thanks to the "gods" gaff and all. Gods plural!
So yeah they actually just went ahead and keel-hauled the other
gods right out of him on the spot - which worked quite
effectively as a theological conversion methodology, though with
the unfortunate side-effect of his demise about 3 minutes into
the procedure. Sailors are a superstitious bunch, am I
right people?
- He hoodwinked the father of 3 working girls (hoe hoe hoe)
by paying for their favors right after sneaking out of their
crib. He's all like tossing in their dolla$ afterward
through the window and shit in fronna they Dad. And then
Nick's all - yo just gettin' that to you on the sly gotta help
keep the kids off the streets ya know yo yo yo. Yo
B, that had to have the wenches totally rolling on the floor
cracking up that their old man was buyin' it. They get
their dolla$, and Nick gets his kicks yo. And they Dad
ain't got no mind to they bidness.* (* Analysis provided by
Sheila Bowling-werthner of lovely suburban Hayfield, Ohio -
shout out to Sheila.)
- He did some time up state after falling in with a cult of
terrorists called "Christians" who were plotting the eradication
of the last remaining traditions holding the Roman empire
together.
- He got busted out of jail after the plot was successful.
- He got put back in jail for first degree assault and
disturbing the peace when he was using violence to try to win a
theological argument.
- While in jail for his second rap, Nick most likely bribed
the guards, enabling him to
totally augment his hard time in the slammer into a Santa-style Club Med staycation. Or, ya know, there also was this
story about some guy Duke who
might be able to shed some light on what really happened.
But Infowars says the authorities are keeping their mouths shut
around anything to do with The White Duke and are signaling that
they may never have conducted an interview. They have also
denied authorizing multiple visits to his cell for so-called
"private sessions" involving a variety of city and state
employees and spanning a period of several months. Definitely
some kind of cover-up.
- Somehow, Nick scammed the authorities outrageously,
convincing them to agree publicly that all
the above prior crimes were actually acts of god and miracles
and such. Fooled or scared 'em so bad they appointed him
local head-honcho for life.
- As an old fart, he got a rep for sneakily giving presents
to little kids to keep quiet. Total chomo pedophile.
- In the end, St. Nick's bones were scattered across the lands in a
desperate hope of the various peoples to put an end to his
cataclysmic reign of terror forevermore.
So. You have yerselves a holly jolly Christmas, each and
every one of y'alls now y'hear! Make sure to recommember the
hilarious high jinks of good ol' Saint Nick when yer gettin' sauced
during all the merrymakin' this season. Sure enough, you'll be drinkin'
up summathat rage-riling Tequila-laced eggnog just like Grandad used
to make, again this year. So ya probly should make sure to do
that recommemberin' earlier on in the evenin'. Jus' sayin'.
Cheers!
Important! For best customer enjoyment, this carefully documented history
should be
narrated by Ryan Reynolds softly, playfully whispering it into your
ear on a winter's eve by the fire pit, as strains of the demented
Sentient Cement Ding Dong song waft down the hall from your castle's
ornate ballroom. |
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