I sentence you Jesus to something worse than crucifixion!
No warblers no garblers, no trilling harp backed cheap Spanglers
You’ve had your say now just listen
Well first soften you up with a crowded fruit flingin
Then to Calvary we’ll put you through the skroosprixen
There will be no ankles no hands left, no haired chest, there’ll be no more man left! No cankles no thank yous , no king of the Jews on the news, you’ll rankle and and huff in a chuff, you, oh I hate you, we’ll broil you and soil you and run you right through!
Grab him my minute men, militiamen, my legionaries, my fairies, my fair haired m’ladies with various maladies, and drag him through the shahoosaflem in the midst of Jerusalem to fine Roman pillories!
And glisten up the sproosprixen! I want it’s gears to be shiny, its shafts to be spiny, make sure it’s dew flaps are spongy, it’s kerfluffins are whiny, it’s rusty and ready and really old timey!
And to make the punishment neat, you’ll walk barefoot through through the street, burdened by billowing wafts of flurd stuffed into a curd, and carry that flurd stuffed curd up the hill while you’re zapped by none other than my friend the Korponuax!
Alright? Now get Jesus out of my sight. I have a headache and it’s been a long night.
In situations like this I usually think of it as some kind of fae pocket dimension (kind of like stranger things).
Its some ironic, designed reflection of the human world where the stories within it are not told for themelves, but as mockeries of us, in the higher dimension.
Unless… we’re also a lower dimension.
Actually, that could explain a lot.
Bit christmas is not about jesus being crucified. It’s about him being born. We have no information on whether the whos celebrate easter. That would be the crucial piece of knowledge as to if there was a who jesus.
What, Jesus?
Also How Jesus, Why Jesus, Where Jesus, and When Jesus, to complete the set.
Winter solstice sacrifice mythology reminds me of Hogfather (1996) by Terry Pratchett about a fantasy world’s equivalent to Santa Claus who also wore red and white (blood on the snow) and was associated with gift giving/sacrifice:
Excerpt
… Images ribboned across her senses—wet fur, sweat, pine, soot, iced air, the tang of damp ash, pig…manure, her governess mind hastily corrected. There was blood…and the taste of…beans? It was all images without words. Almost…animal.
“But none of this is right! Everyone knows he’s a jolly old fat man who hands out presents to kids!” she said aloud.
“Is. Is. Not was. You know how it is,” said the raven.
“Do I?”
“It’s like, you know, industrial retraining,” said the bird. “Even gods have to move with the times, am I right? He was probably quite different thousands of years ago. Stands to reason. No one wore stockings, for one thing.” He scratched at his beak.
“Yersss,” he continued expansively, “he was probably just your basic winter demi-urge. You know…blood on the snow, making the sun come up. Starts off with animal sacrifice, y’know, hunt some big hairy animal to death, that kind of stuff. You know there’s some people up on the Ramtops who kill a wren at Hogswatch and walk around from house to house singing about it? With a whack-fol-oh-diddle-dildo. Very folkloric, very myffic.”
“A wren? Why?”
“I dunno. Maybe someone said, hey, how’d you like to hunt this evil bastard of an eagle with his big sharp beak and great ripping talons, sort of thing, or how about instead you hunt this wren, which is basically about the size of a pea and goes “twit”? Go on, you choose. Anyway, then later on it sinks to the level of religion and then they start this business where some poor bugger finds a special bean in his tucker, oho, everyone says, you’re king, mate, and he thinks “This is a bit of all right” only they don’t say it wouldn’t be a good idea to start any long books, ’cos next thing he’s legging it over the snow with a dozen other buggers chasing him with holy sickles so’s the earth’ll come to life again and all this snow’ll go away. Very, you know…ethnic. Then some bright spark thought, hey, looks like that damn sun comes up anyway, so how come we’re giving those druids all this free grub? Next thing you know, there’s a job vacancy. That’s the thing about gods. They’ll always find a way to, you know…hang on.”
Dr WHO?
The Whocifixion after he was betrayed by Whodas.
Spoilers!
I haven’t seen Passion of the Who? yet.
Oh, you’ll love it. The part where they visit his whomb and find it empty… 🤌
The Papawho, the Who son and the Wholy Spirit.
Whodas
New phone, Whodas?
Crazy concept that Christmas has to be a religious holiday… not in my house.
It’s called the Whodat because that’s what everyone asks after it has maimed your corpse beyond recognition.
Maybe through convergent evolution the pagan solstice celebrations just turned into Christmas. Yay, pagan Whos!
I assume it was Christmas like Narnia Christmas; not quite the same holiday.
The Dr. Seuss Bible Respect your elders!
I had to scroll way too far to find this. You’re doing the Lord’s work.
Why would a who crucify a person wouldn’t they crucify whos?
Whos on cross?
Don’t know … but who’s on third?
Ugh, Christ, not this again.
What if Jesus was never crucified and instead cursed Judas into being the Grinch’s ancestor and the Who’s are Jesus’ descendants and that’s why the Grinch hates Christmas so much. The movie is just about the descendants of both bloodlines learning to forgive each other.
Wouldn’t that mean all Whos are inbred by now?
They put him in the sneech machine.
