Phoebe asked for this one, and indeed it just wouldn’t seem right to have Christmas without the Hallelujah Chorus from Handel’s Messiah. And let’s go first-class, with the Royal Choral Society at the Albert Hall.
And how they manage to put all these elements together into a flawless work of art… well, I can only stand in awe.
Requested by Tessa, O Come, All You Unfaithful, by Sovereign Grace Music. I had my doubts about that title until I heard the song. As Our Lord Jesus Christ once said, it’s the sick who need the physician, not the healthy (Matthew 9: 9-17).
Meanwhile, the Christmas Carol Contest is open all day! Let more entries follow this one.
“I was really stuck on this chapter,” Violet Crepuscular confesses to readers of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney. “Being the Queen of Suspense is hard! Why, just the other day I caught some wacko going fishing in my goldfish pond! I had to have Mr. Pitfall come over and do him an injury.”
In Chapter CDLIV the suspense builds to a crescendo. Lady Margo Cargo’s wig has caught fire. Lord Jeremy Coldsore has a quadruple fracture of the coccyx (“That’s what he gets for trying to turn this drama into a musical!” sniffs Ms. Crepuscular), the wandering cowboy, having swooned to the floor, is doing nothing, Crusty the Butler is trying to find a fire extinguisher (not aware that they haven’t been invented yet), the poor vicar’s conniptions are getting really unseemly, there is a hydra loose in town…
And the jackalope emerges from the vicar’s kitchen garden.
“I have added this TV news photo of a jackalope,” explains Ms. Crepuscular, “because it is suspenseful! I mean, the hydra might devastate the town, but at least no one will go crazy for the rest of his life just because he’s seen it–but you can’t say the same for the jackalope.”
As this fearsome bunny with antlers emerges from the garden with a mouthful of parsley, Lady Margo forgets that her wig’s on fire, although it’s still on her head, Lord Jeremy oscillates, and Crusty begins to act peculiar.
Here the chapter degenerates into a defense of alcoholic toothpaste.
Requested by Phoebe, today’s first entry in our Christmas Carol Contest–The Holly and the Ivy, by the Robert Shaw Chamber Singers. (I was sure she was going to ask for Joy to the World. My whole schedule is thrown off now.)