Christmas in the Land

[High Lord Tolkien]

How would the people of the Land celebrate Christmas?

Lets make Christmas like it is in Dr Who.
Not religious but just the spirit of good will, presents and decorations.


Tough to beat the stars around the One Tree decorations.
How about a Wraith in every Stonedown window?
What about that one snowy night when Mhoram asked that one Ranyhim with the red star on his forehead to....

And of course Caerroil Wildwood is Santa. He leaves Garroting Deep one night a year to deliver toys to good children and obliterates the naughty ones.

Eathpowered Yule Logs.

What else?

[Savor Dam]

Giants distilling a very special seasonal diamondraught.

Haruchai refraining from their mental communion, so as to make the Night all the more Silent.

[DrPaul]

Three Insequent visiting a newborn baby and his parents in a manger in Mithil Stonedown with gifts of white gold, orcrest and lomillialor, while a host of Elohim appear overhead singing songs of praise.

[DrPaul]

The Ranyhyn wearing fake antlers and red noses.

[DrPaul]

Thomas Covenant using the krill to carve the turkey.

[DrPaul]

Eccentric uncles apologetically explaining on 26 December that their bad behaviour at the family dinner the previous day was due to possession by a Raver.

[Vraith]

HAH...those are great. too funny.
What they also do is sing a long, involved, repetitive, song that is incredibly famous---yet only semi-known. The final iteration [which only one semi-inebriated OCD guy REALLY knows] of which goes:

[[ALL]]]On the twelfth day of Christmas
my true love sent to me:
12 drmmshps prph [Drumming! it's drumming! they're calling the NICOR!]
Eleven Pipers Piping [PIETTEN!]
Ten Lords a mrphing [Flaming...like "Lord's Fire, you dorks]
Nine Ladies Dancing [Wraiths! Rite of Spring much? sheesh]
Eight Mekns malstng [Manethralls. Maneing. /sigh]
Seven Snrf de snroring [Wards and Warnings]
Six Giglros grrfpsong [Gravelers, graveling. I'm done.]
Five White Gold Rings
Four Pitchwives Wiving
Three Furls falls postcards
Two Tests of Truth
and the Power of Command at the One Tree.......

[wayfriend]

On Caer-Yule eve, the night of the first full moon of winter, all of the Stowndowners and Woodhelvennin would gather around a great Gilden tree, and wait for the Wraiths, who would come to dance in it's branches. They would sing songs of the blessings that the Land has given to them, and by accepting them, honoring the giver. In the morning, the children of the land would find small presents, secreted away by their parents in stockings hung by the gravelling pots. Then there would be a great feast.

Every child in the Land loved Caer-Yule a lot. But the Despiser, who lived in the east of the Land, did not. The Despiser hated Caer-Yule! The whole Caer-Yule season! No, please don't ask why. We all know the reason.

We know that his head wasn't screwed on just right. We know, without doubt, that his shoes were too tight.
But perhaps more important than any other thing, was that the Despiser wanted his very own ring.

Whatever the reason he wanted this band,
He stood there on Caer-Yule Eve, hating the Land,
Staring down from his creche with a sour, Corrupt frown,
At the warm lighted Gilden trees near the stonedown.

For he knew every 'downer and 'helvennin beneath,
Was busy now, hanging an amanibhavam wreath.
"And they're hanging their stockings!" he snarled with a sneer,
"Tomorrow is Caer-Yule! It's practically here!"
Then he growled, with his Fangthane fingers nervously drumming,
"I MUST find some way to stop Caer-Yule from coming!"

For tomorrow, he knew, all the Land girls and boys,
Would wake bright and early. They'd rush for their toys!
And then! Oh, the noise! Oh, the Noise! Noise! Noise! Noise!
That's one thing he hated! The NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! NOISE!

Then the people, young and old, would sit down to a feast.
And they'd feast! And they'd feast! And they'd FEAST! FEAST! FEAST! FEAST!
They would feast on ur-pudding, and rare Ra-roast beast.
Which was something the Despiser couldn't stand in the least!

And THEN they'd do something he liked least of all!
Every one in the Land, the tall and the small,
Would stand close together, with Caer-Yule staves swinging.
They'd stand hand-in-hand. And those guys would start singing!
They'd sing! And they'd sing! And they'd SING! SING! SING! SING!
And the more the Despiser thought of this Caer-Yodeling,
The more the Despiser thought, "I must stop this anile thing!"

"Why, for three thousand years I've put up with it now!"
"I MUST stop this Caer-Yule from coming! But HOW?"

[aliantha]

Thread of the year, right here.

[DrPaul]

If we could tweak one of the scenes in AATE, the Ardent would materialise in a Santa suit bearing roast turkeys, cooked Christmas hams, fruitcakes (made with aliantha), plum puddings, mince pies, Christmas crackers, bottles of brandy and (for southern hemisphere folk) prawns, salads and bottles of chilled white wine and cold beer.

[DrPaul]

This could be the template for a Christmas song from Lord Foul's perspective:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HZWQcl1C-c8

Here's my suggestion for a first set of verses:

Merry Christmas you grovellers, you servants and fools
You still haven't twigged that I'm making the rules
While you think it's the season of goodwill and peace
You'll cheerfully help me make time and life cease

Merry Christmas you grovellers, and what will you do
When you find that the pudding tastes like Waynhim stew
And the spirit that's filling you under the tree
Is the presence malign of a Raver or three?

The Lords and the Giants and loresraat clients
With tinsel on swords, ships and staff
Will drink till they chunder but here in Mount Thunder
Be certain I'll have the last laugh

Suggestions for further verses welcome.

[DrPaul]

OK, here's the complete version.

LORD FOUL’S CHRISTMAS CAROL (To the tune of “Merry Christmas You Suckers”)

Merry Christmas you grovelers, you servants and fools
You still haven't twigged that I'm making the rules
While you think it's the season of goodwill and peace
You'll cheerfully help me make time and life cease

Merry Christmas you grovelers, and what will you do
When you find that the pudding tastes like Waynhim stew
And the spirit that's filling you under the tree
Is the presence malign of a Raver or three?

The Lords and the Giants and loresraat clients
With tinsel on sword, ship and staff
Will drink till they chunder but here in Mount Thunder
Be certain I'll have the last laugh

A white Christmas, you grovelers, will be cold and cruel
Because of a croyel atop an argule
And Roger, while wearing his father’s disguise
Will drink all your brandy and eat your mince pies

To your family dinner a rogue Elohim
Will come in the form of your mad Uncle Jim
Who will tell racist jokes and get punched in the eye
By Ramen or maybe irate Haruchai

Samadhi’s Sandgorgons will smash your church organs
So there’ll be no carols to sing
And Kasreyn the Kemper won’t improve your temper
By trying to steal a white ring

Merry Christmas, you grovelers, I’ll teach you despair
If an al fresco lunch you are planning to share
For I’ll spoil your picnic with a Sun of Rain
And flies and mosquitos supplied by the Bane

If you try to keep watch with the Wraiths Christmas night
I’ll turn it all green with an Illearth Stone blight
And if that’s not enough I can surely affirm
That your turkey and ham will be munched by the Worm

And if Linden Avery believes that her bravery
Will somehow my triumph retard
She’ll wreak Desecration on all of Creation
By pulling her cracker too hard

So stick with it, grovelers, on Christmas Day
Of my deeper purpose I’ve nothing to say
While I patiently wait for your wild magic blast
Merry Christmas, you grovelers – it could be your last.

[Frostheart Grueburn]

The grumpy Landman's protest against invasive alien customs! Sung to the tune of a typically melancholic Finnish yulesong devoid of all that twinkly-winkly hoppity-hop of Coca Cola santas! Joulupukki used to be a frightening, gaunt figure! Beware of purposefully bad poetry! Exclamation marks!!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqGgpLVy2vI

In a world of fantasy
What can one celebrate?
A realm that never shared its deities with us.

Christ or Mithras or Julgubben
Will not cooperate
The Land-folk ken not what is all the fuss.

So how will christmas ever come
The prospects do seem glum
Unknown are yule-logs and tarts of plum


Earth-men share solstice
But how can even this apply?
Is the damn Land round or square or pie-shaped?

What’s the Sun? Can someone
info over this supply?
A clump of Elohim proud, toga-draped?

The laws of nature make no sense
Ah! My poor nerves feel tense.
The concept of yule should come, but from whence?


Foul is Grinch and just as green
The Giants laugh, “Ho-ho!”
Infelice could serve as jingle bells

Cart some snow down from the mounts
Make ur-vile nostrils glow
They will pull yule-sled across the fells

All this tweenness makes me gag
Come now, cut some slack!
Enough with the perky, force-fed crap.


Goodwill should reign anyway
After the Last Dark
Giantesses rule in Revelstone!

Centuries of feasts ensued
Pay heed and this remark:
Forevermore has Despite lost its throne!

Hence why dump foreign customs in
For what is there to win?
Cacophony and a deal of din

The Land will prosper without yule
Stubborn as a mule
The Haruchai remain as cool as Thule!

[wayfriend]

Drat. I should have said

For tomorrow, he knew, all the children would pause
They would praise the Creator, and feal to his cause.
And then! Oh, the Laws! Oh, the Laws! Laws! Laws! Laws!
That's one thing he hated! The LAWS! LAWS! LAWS! LAWS!

Anyway ...

[High Lord Tolkien]

Fantastic! I'm sorry I was away for so long and missed all this. Great stuff.