Twelfth Night (no Shakespeare)

It's the 12th day of Christmas. A day we celebrate in this house because either, I'm continuing useless customs passed on by my immigrant ancestors or I just like to party. There will be cake, and small presents and merry making. Then I'll haul all the stuff back to the basement while the kids go back to school tomorrow. Let's not think about that part. Below, a piece of tripe on the 12 days of Christmas. Enjoy or not, depending on your bent. I'm going off to have cake, yeah, for breakfast. I'm making merry darn it!



The 12 Days of Christmas, Deconstructed


On the 12th day of the Eurocentrically imposed midwinter festival, my potential-acquaintance-rape-survivor gave to me:
· Twelve males reclaiming their inner warrior through ritual drumming.
· Eleven pipers piping (plus the 18-member pit orchestra made up of members in good standing of the Musicians Equity Union as called for in their union contract even though they will not be asked to play a note...)
· Ten melanin-deprived testosterone-poisoned scions of the patriarchal ruling class system leaping,
· Nine persons engaged in rhythmic self-expression,
· Eight economically disadvantaged female persons stealing milk-products from enslaved Bovine-Europeans,
· Seven endangered swans swimming on protected wetlands,
· Six enslaved fowl-Europeans producing stolen nonhuman animal products,
· Five golden symbols of culturally sanctioned enforced domestic incarceration,
Note: after member of the Animal Liberation Front threatened to throw red paint at my computer, the calling birds, French hens and partridge have been reintroduced to their native habitat. To avoid further animal-European enslavement, the remaining gift package has been revised.
· Four hours of recorded whale songs,
· Three deconstructionist poets,
· Two Sierra Club calendars printed on recycled processed tree carcasses
· And an Animal Rights activist chained to an old-growth pear tree.