MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE !

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tinny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"


Clement Clarke Moore (1779 - 1863)

Noel Fielding.

"He's a Mick Jagger of comedy ... sweet but unbelievably mischievous and naughty, like a very cheeky puppy: Mighty Boosh comedian making multimedia assault on art and entertainment"

"Over the past decade Fielding's ability to hopscotch his way through the realms of the fantastic, nonsensical and downright bizarre - fluid enough to keep pace with the thrusting and parrying of even the most addled of minds - has made him one of Britain's most recognisable cult comedians." - The Guardian Sam Jones 2007.


I'm pretty sure I'd never be able to write anything this elaborate about Noel Fielding so I thought I might as well quote. I don't know about you but whenever anyone uses the word 'thrusting' I just assume its a sexual innuendo, sometimes wrongly so, but when its found in the same sentence as "fluid" and "pace" I can't help but to reach that fabricated conclusion. Can't blame them though. I mean, come on people the boy (well, man he is in his thirties) is fine. News of The World readers may disagree with me after he was described as androgynous in a really naff interview about drugs, but then what do those racist sensationalists know about anything other than maybe what medication Kerry Katona is on. I think he is a total dish who can still look kissable in weird hats with bunny ears. I'd love to check out his..................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................oh my god you're so dirty I was gonna say itunes library!


Anyway I think he pretty much makes Buzzcocks at the moment. The Doctor Who one tonight was hilarious. Who knew Catherine Tate is even funnier when she isn't trying to be? Love it. X

Vampire Weekend - Cousins.

Awesome video, and well catchy tune =]

It reminded me of the Blink 182 video for The Rock Show, where a group of lads are let loose with the tools make a film, and the chaotic end product becomes their latest music video.

If Blink 182 had switched to indie and gone to art school, it might have looked something like this. Its youthful, quirky, minimal but vibrantly cluttered.
 If you're not feeling the song you could always just check out their sexy guitars. They're pretty nice.
People don't chat about music videos enough.

X

This Sound of The Smiths

I haven't done a lot yet this week, (except monday night which was a bit action packed but we won't go into the drunken antics of Portsmouth students), but one thing I have done is start listening to the Smiths (bit late I know, someone should have made this happen before).

I've pretty much fallen in love with them in about two days. Its the kind of music that reminds you how much passion and longing there is in peoples hearts. (Like the plastic bag scene in American Beauty). However, this morning I put on this album to get up to, but by the end of This Charming Man, I had convinced myself the day wasn't worth bothering with and my bed was an island in an vast expanse of general guttedness. It seemed to whisper in my ear things that I loved to not-want to hear and I felt like I had been tricked into taking a tardis back to being 15 again.

So, no more Smiths in the morning.

I think they mess with my head a bit, but I know I love them.

X