Kwanzaa And The Holy Innocents

I know, I know, you're all getting down with ahem, "Dr." Karenga's awesomely made up Kwanzaa, which some argue isn't celebrated by anyone other than white liberals and perhaps the FBI. But spare a thought for the Holy Innocents while you're at it.

Here's the Collect of the day and another for the Octave.

O God, Whose praise the martyred innocents did this day proclaim, not by speaking, but by dying, do to death in us all the malice of sinfulness, that our lives may also proclaim Thy faith, which our tongues profess. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, Thy Son, Who liveth and reigneth with Thee. in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end.

Grant, we beseech Thee, almighty God, that the new birth of Thine only-begotten Son in the flesh may set us free, who are held by the old bondage under the yoke of sin. Through the same Lord Jesus Christ Thy Son, Who liveth and reigneth with Thee in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end.

And for all you trads out there, here's the Latin.

Deus, cujus hodiérna die præcónium Innocentes Mártyres non loquéndo, sed moriéndo conféssi sunt: ómnia in nobis vitiórum mala mortífica; ut fidem tuam, quam lingua nostra lóquitur, étiam móribus vita fateátur. Per Dominum nostrum Jesum Christum Filium Tuum: Qui Tecum vivit et regnat in unitate Spiritus Sancti, Deus, Per omnia saecula saeculorum.

Concede, quaesumus, omnipotens Deus: ut nos Unigeniti Tui nova per carnem nativitas liberet; Quos sub peccati jugo vetustat servitus tenet. Per eúmdem Dóminum nostrum Jesum Christum Fílium tuum, qui tecum vivit et regnat in unitáte Spíritus Sancti, Deus, Per omnia saecula saeculorum.

Serious stuff, right? And now we can all get back to innocently enjoying Kwanzaa.

Kawaida,

LSP

LL Comes To Town

I was banging on my nightvision monocular in a vain attempt to speak truth to power when the phone buzzed. Hunh, an email, from LL; I decrypted it. "Hey, LSP, let's meet up for dinner in Dallas. I'll be there on business."

A little later we were getting down to steak and heart attack potatoes, somewhere in Dallas. Steak is plentiful in Trump's America and it seemed right to take advantage of that, which we did, while catching up on business.

LL

"So what happened to the drones?"

"Well, they crashed, the drones crashed and if they want my help they'll have to pay."

"Payment is key."

"Right, and this new project looks promising. Things are better now since the election, unless you're Hillary with $7 million dollars worth of unneeded fireworks sitting on a barge and a trashed Victory Suit."

"Really, they were drunk on hubris."

A Typical White Wolf

Conversation moved on to the White Wolf Mine, the site of LL's future mountain redoubt. A safe space, if you like, far away from the insanity of the metrosprawl. I suggested that the fortress have a dry room for all the ammunition and, sure enough, an armory and ammo bunker are built into the plans. I'm pressing for a tower, too, but all good things in time.

It's Starting to Look a Lot Like Kwanzaa!

Speaking of which, I searched high and low for a Kwanzaa book to give in return for steak, but had to make do with Kipling. Next time.

Just a Couple of Druids

Thanks, LL, for a great meal. Good luck with Big Blue, A&M and the latest project. Build that Compound!

LSP

Sunday Snow!

Sometime during the night it began to snow and it hasn't stopped, yet. I'd forgotten what snow was, so I got up to have a cup of coffee and look at the wonder of it. All very magic of Kwanzaatide and they're predicting a lot more tomorrow, which is exciting to me, and a good incentive to look out on the winter wonderland from the fiery comfort of the Hyatt bar. A glass of something warming will be part of this.

But that's for the future. In the meanwhile, I enjoyed myself taking pictures of Stephen Avenue and Calgary's famous Tower, in the snow.

The Tower was lit up for Kwanzaa, which was a nice touch, I thought. I also noticed that the young Canadians who were ordering coffee at the hotel seemed diffident, as though they were apologizing for troubling the Croatian cashier with their purchase. That reminded me of being in England, where there's a tendency for people to cringe, bow and scrape before shopkeepers.

Of course Napoleon said that the English were a nation of shopkeepers and got soundly thrashed for his efforts.

I love the snow.

LSP

Almost Christmas

While you're all recovering from Festivus and getting ready for Kwanzaa, I'm gearing up for the first Masses of Christmas, fortified by Huevos Rancheros, strong coffee, and corn tortillas.

Excuse me?

Here's some Austin Farrer to reflect on before Mass:

“WHEN Mary laid Jesus Christ upon her knees, when she searched him with her eyes, when she fed him at the breast, she did not study to love him because she ought, she loved him because he was dear: he was her Son. His conception had been supernatural, perplexing, affrighting; it had called for faith in the incomprehensible, and obedience beyond the limit of human power. His nativity was human and sweet, and the love with which she embraced it was a natural growth, inseparable from the thing she loved. She was blessed above all creatures, because she loved her Maker inevitably and by simple nature; even though it needed the sword—wounds of the Passion to teach her fully that it was her Maker whom she loved. The Son of Mary is the Son of all human kind; we embrace him with the love of our kind, that we may be led up with Mary to a love beyond kind, a selfless love for the supreme Goodness, when we too shall have climbed the ladder of the cross.”

I love that -- the Farrer, not the random dancing priestess, obviously.

God bless,

LSP

Atheist Santa

"Dear Santa," writes the smirking atheist girl to her imaginary friend, "All I want for Christmas is to skip church." The substantial little disbeliever then goes on to explain herself. She's too old, apparently, "to believe in fairy tales."

Why does she believe in Santa, then? 

Maybe she wants to have her cake and eat it too, but speaking of fairy tales,

Happy Kwanzaa,

LSP