If it wasn’t before, you can bet your ass it is now. Thank you so much for tagging me in this.
Happy Robonukkah everybody!
Okay, so is this another weeklong thing? What will the traditional foods and observances be?
Iron-rich foods to represent the metal in Oppy’s body. Challah, a symbol of the working class (at least it was in my dad’s Jewish community growing up, IDK about the rest of the world) is had with each meal.
You light a pillar candle to represent the fire used in constructing Opportunity and thank God for the fire of creation, for creating the sun which gives light and warmth to the universe and thus allows life to flourish, and the light and all that represents. It’s a pillar candle because those are absurdly long lasting, as was Oppy.
At the annual Robonukkah family dinner you and your family talk about times you thought you couldn’t go on but did, in spite of how hard it was, and meditate on what got you through that, how to better support each other, etc.
In remembrance of Oppy’s death just before Valentine’s Day, a day of chocolate, the children are given gelt that was put in the fridge (representing the cold vacuum of space) during Hanukkah Proper ™.
But the truest observance is the intra-community argument about whether it’s Robonukkah or Robanukkah.
Holy shit, I was half-joking but this is so beautiful I’m genuinely tearing up and I will be very upset if we don’t make this a thing.
90, the original number of days Oppy was supposed to live, divided by 15, the number of years Oppy did, is 6.
Robonukkah is therefore six days long, which is a holy number also representing how God rested at the end of six days of work, thus showing the connection between the divine and creation is not as far apart as one might think.
I had a dream I was able to time travel and I went like 10,20,100,1000,2000 years into the future but the instant I went to 4,000 I got stuck in a time dilation jail set up by the American government in the year 3,877 in which anyone that tried to time travel back or forth across May 23, 3877 while on Earth would end up stuck in this time dilation chamber trap to stop time travelers but like it was so crazy and mismanaged because it was legit capturing like every single time traveler ever and the place had only been open for 12 minutes and was already getting overpopulated with nonstop multiple recursive instances of this one other guy trying to break previous versions of himself out of this god damn time traveler jail
that is fucking hysterical and absolutely sounds like something the American Government would set up.
So I make costumes. Not your average fitted attire. I mean I do that too, but not just that. I make BIG costumes. Like with metal and shit. So about October-ish, I contacted a costume making studio that does work with a convention called “Dickens-fair”. Maybe You’ve heard of it. It is a Christmas fair that turns the whole center into a replica of Dickens’ London, complete with actors who represent his characters. I had always wanted to go and was just trying to think of ways to help out.
I contacted the head person for costumes for the actors and I told her I make period pieces and I specialize in weird stuff, but also in turning old thrift store items into period attire. She emailed me back and was like “Come meet me” and so I did. I came out to her studio and was sitting with her folks, showing her pictures of all the stuff I’d done I was proud of. Then she says…”Wait…I have an idea.”
She tells me that every year, Dickens-fair has this one performer who is a fiddling Christmas tree. Like What? yes. A tree…that fiddles. Apparently it’s like the fucking Mickey of Dickens-fair. Only, her outfit was made a few years back from fabric, and kind of looked like a dunce cap with streamers. She told me that this year, the Fiddling Tree wanted a new costume. She says “Can you make a Christmas tree that can fiddle?”
I’m like…no. “If she can fiddle and wear a tree, then I can build a tree that can be worn by a fiddler. Hell yeah.”
And she’s like…”It can’t touch her shoulders, and it has to fit over her normal costume, and it has to be period accurate, so all period ornaments.”
And I’m like…bitch, “I got this.”
She says “Come back in a week and meet her and give us your idea.”
So I designed…because I make costumes and I have Christmas in my blood. My mom always tells this story about how when I was like 4, I was with her at the train station in LA and I saw this man sitting on a bench. Now this man wore blue denim overalls, with a long sleeved red shirt, had a white beard, and carried a wooden cane carved with Rudolph, who had a gemstone nose…He was fucking Santa. Admit it. And 4 year old me was like……SANTA? My mom always says I stared at him hard and then tried to climb in his lap, like for real Tim Allen from Santa Clause style, but he was cool, and pulled me into his lap and had a whole conversation with me about whether or not I was being good…in July. According to my mom, he told her he was a professional Santa and this was something he always got from kids, and that he loved it. He then got picked up by a woman in a convertible and drove away.
My mom has been telling me this story since I was five.
So this year, about 3 years ago, I was like…A Christmas tree that fiddles…I got this.
I mean, I drew this shit. I went to hardware stores and craft shops and I priced out this shit. There were emails about what I could expect to be the substructure. I made a barbie doll scale model with pipe cleaners. I came in with a fucking Plan.
And they laughed and said… “We love the barbie…OK.”
So I had a budget. I had an idea. And I went with it. I made measurements and all sorts of stuff. Let me tell you about this costume…
This woman is 6′2″. She fiddles. She wears, beneath the tree, a full period costume. This means a bell hoop skirt and a corset. I made sure they had a hoop for her that was carved from fucking PVC pipe and a steel boned corset, and I went to work. I had frames…on fucking chains…from MY CEILING. I had the whole thing mapped out.
A lightweight metal skirt in a grid pattern made from chain, linked together in a mesh. gathered at the waist and clipped like a belt. Over the head, a cone-like structure carved out of mesh, mounted on braces that were lashed to the torso with straps bolted into the metal cross-braces. A light aluminum frame. And over this…a cape, made from long dangling chains. Every inch of chain was coated in weatherproofing green paint. Every few links…a limb hacked off a fake plastic Christmas tree. Woven amidst these? A series of handmade and donated ornaments, including fake cookies made from clay, fake candles with a remote control that controlled the flicker. I had paper ornaments, streamers, instruments made of brass, birds, candies made from plastic…I mean I had everything, and all to period. I worked and worked on this for months and had numerous fittings.
The aluminum headpiece came along. I was stressed. I didn’t know exactly how I was going to make this fucking cone mount on her chest so her shoulders would be free. I mean I had ideas - like a cone, but with a back and front piece that came down her torso and to which, straps were fixed that clipped at the sides. This would distribute weight evenly through the corset and allow for freedom of the shoulders. But! I didn’t have a firm plan. I went to the hardware store.
Me. Three months pregnant. All cute and glowy and shit.
And I walked into the section where all the plumbing and flashing is. Now I know my way around. I hate going here because I’m usually hassled by a dude who thinks girls can’t know shit about hardware. But this time…this time it was a nice old man with a snowy white beard, wearing a red shirt and a green apron. I’m like…he’s a Santa…this is fate.
He comes over and says “What can I help you with today?”
And so I tell him the whole story. About the tree, and the odd parameters, the physics, the complexities. I tell him what I’m trying to create, this cone of metal lashed to the chest, and he…
Smiles.
He tells me, “I’m a Santa. I do it every year. I love this project! I want to help!”
As we are brain storming, and he’s showing me all the products that might work, he mentions to me that he isn’t the first Santa in his family.
“My dad did it for most of his life.”
“Man, I have such respect for Santas. My mom always tells this story about me meeting this man who looked like a Santa at a train station and trying to sit on his knee.”
The man got very quiet. “At a train station?”
“Yeah, like he was wearing overalls and a red shirt and had this carved cane…”
“I remember that cane,” he says.
I turn to him… “The one with Rudolph?”
“With a ruby nose. Yeah. After he died I looked everywhere for it, but I couldn’t find it.”
I stopped. Like straight up stopped moving, with like my limbs all cold as snow. “Wait a minute? What? Are you telling me you know that Santa?”
“I think that was my dad. He is exactly as you say. He worked on the railroad as a conductor for most of his life, and when he retired they gave him free travel. He was always taking trips, and he always went as Santa, because after he retired, he did that full time.”
“Did your mom own a convertible? Like a sleek one?”
“Yup.”
I lost it. I’m in the middle of fucking Ace Hardware, talking to Santa, about my Santa, the one I can’t remember, but always knew existed, and that man is this Santa’s daddy. And here I am…shopping for parts to a fiddling Christmas tree. I cried like a little kid. He hugged me. I apologized and told him I was in my first trimester. He said it was fine. He gave me his card. Told me he was glad to hear his father had had such an impact on kids. He helped me pick out my tree pieces and then checked me out.
I built the best fucking tree you ever saw. I wove metal. I bent aluminum. I used riveters. I worked with saws, and vices, and paint, and glue, and fucking plastic clay. I did everything wearing gloves and a mask because of baby. I did it all like I had a fire under me, because fuck that…I’m not letting Santas down.
And this is what I made.
This was the dry fitting, the trial run. We fluffed it out with more limbs, added bits here and there, or planned for more. I strung this fucking thing from my rafters on a mannequin and we had a tree decorating party, putting ornaments on it like it was a real tree. Then we had her put on the whole thing, and we watched her play “O Tannenbaum”
And it was the best Christmas moment ever, for me.
That year, I had free tickets to Dickens-fair. I went and caught sight of my Christmas tree fiddling around, playing songs for kids and spreading the spirit. Then later I saw the fiddler dancing in Fezziwig’s ball, with her tree skirt still on over her dress. It was awesome, seeing this 7.5′ tall tree gliding around, this thing I made, with help from My Santa’s Son.
I was Santa that year. It made my holiday.
So the next time you meet a Santa… it might not be the real guy… but you needed to meet him. And if you are a Santa… this is what you do. This is your legacy.
The Navajo have a unique tradition. When a baby is born, it is regarded as the ultimate, precious gift and must never be abused. From the moment of birth, the child is watched over continuously by family and friends, who patiently wait for the child’s first…laugh.
“Has your baby laughed?” is common question posed to parents who have infants around the age of three months. The first laugh of a Navajo child is a very significant event. It marks the child’s final passing from the spirit world to the physical world, meaning he or she is now fully human. This milestone warrants a party, and what a party it is!
Whichever brother, sister, parent, cousin, aunt, uncle, or passing acquaintance is present at the first laugh is deemed to have caused it. The laughter instigator then receives the honored privilege of preparing a special ceremony to welcome the child into society.
Once a baby has laughed, training in generosity begins immediately—a value held in high regard among the Navajo people. At the party, where the baby is considered the host, the parents or person responsible for the first laugh help hold the baby’s hand as he or she ceremonially gives the rock salt, food, and gifts to each guest. There are also bags of candy, money, and other presents that the child “gives” along with the food. [x]
Yes it is true. I have had of a few relatives invite me to a A’wee Chi’deedloh "The Baby Laughed Ceremony" however I have not had the privilege to actually attended one personally. The Dine’ peoples believe that babies are of “two worlds” (Earth people & Holy people) when they are born. The first laugh signifies the babies desire to become a part of the Earth People so it is a great cause for celebration.
A Beauty and the Beast AU where Belle realizing she loves Beast isn’t at some dramatic climactic event but during some randome everyday moment. Like, she’s filing her nails and just kinda glances up at him and he’s like doing something just as dull and it just kinda dawns on her that she loves him but she doesn’t voice it cause she isn’t exactly ready to confront thoes emotions and what they mean so she goes back to filing her nails but then is starts raining glitter and Beast is defying gravity in a glowing ball of light and the castle is changing back and everyone becomes human again. Then everyone is left in silent moment of shock and confusion and Belle, being completely unaware of what it takes to break the curse, is just staring around in horror while everyone freshly humanized comes running into whatever room she and Beast were in (probably the library) expecting to see something other than human Beast in a heap on the ground and Belle across the room in a chair frozen in shock and confusion and everyone just kinda looks at each other for a couple of seconds not realy sure what to say cause nobody is entirely sure what happened other than the curse was broken. Then Beast finaly gets up and looks around and realizes what this means and looks at Belle and is just like “you love me?” And Belle is just like “wat?”
ALTERNATELY: Belle falls in love slowly. As a result, Beast turns back into a human slowly. She overhears him singing in the shower (it’s amazing how old pipes echo) and realizes it’s that song she was trying to teach herself on the piano (okay, that the piano was teaching her). It’s sweet and mundane, and lovely. Meanwhile, in the bathroom, Beast is humming nervously as he looks at the fur clogging the drain. He thought at least he’d be free of male pattern balding since he’s cursed! Later, Belle gets a cold, and Beast brings her soup and sandwiches, and she curses at him because how dare he have such a hearty immune system, and he chuckles and leaves it. After he’s gone, she notices he cut the grilled cheese on the diagonal, crusts off, exactly right. Beast, downstairs, trips and falls, because the sudden lack of toe-claws threw off his balance.
And so on and so forth, so slowly she doesn’t really see it, she just assumes her memories were colored by her fear. Until one day, as he goes out to tend his roses, she yells “Bye, love you!” and when he comes back in, all excited, she nearly beans him with an encyclopedia, because “WHAT THE FUCK, WHO ARE YOU?” and Beast is just “You seriously didn’t notice me turning back into a human? You are so smart… and SO DUMB, I BEEN NEARLY DYING EVERY TIME, WHY DO I LOVE YOU, YOU BEAUTIFUL DISASTER WOMAN!”
Historical footage of the last T-Rex serving his country in WWl.
But isn’t that a Jeep? And the T-Rex is holding a…Browning M2? Which wasn’t used until 1933…
So I think this footage is actually of WW2.
I’m living for this historical accuracy
Many people think it’s historically inaccurate because the Tyrannosaur doesn’t have feathers, but a buzz cut is pretty standard for military personnel.
A knight in shining armor outsmarts the dragon and climbs to the highest tower, only the princess locked away at the top of the tower is… a lesbian.
“Oh thank god,” Thomas says, laying his helmet down. “Because I kept thinking on the climb up here that this was going to be a really awkward first meeting, and its stupid to expect you to fall in love with me just because I saved you.”
Lucinda gives him a surprised look. “You’re rather weird. Usually I get guys that demand I fall in love with them because they ‘saved’ me. Which by the way, you didn’t actually do.” She jabs a thumb towards the direction of the dragon. “She’s trained. I tell her to keep assholes away from me, but if I tell her to let you in, she won’t do anything to you.”
“Oh.” Well now he feels a bit better. “But um, the whole lesbian thing? I uh… god this is going to sound weird, but would you consider dating my sister if I brought her to you?”
Lucinda blinks, opens her mouth, and then shuts it. She finally settles on, “Is your sister cute?”
“Um, I don’t know? I mean to me she is, because she’s my sister. But um.”
“Describe her.”
“Red hair, freckles, five foot… two, I think? Likes to make dresses and pretty headdresses out of flowers, her favorite activity is scrapbooking. She’s nineteen and looking for a nice girl to settle down with.”
Lucinda admits, she sounds tempting. “Fine, I’ll meet her. But why are you acting as the go-between for your sister’s love life, exactly?”
Thomas grimaces. “Dad wants to marry her off, and she’s… kind of a lesbian too. Except dad thinks if he throws her at the right dick, she’ll suddenly want that, so… yeah.”
Lucinda cackles. “Oh my god, you climbed a tower to wingman for your sister?”
“Um, yes?”
She stands, brushes her dress off. “I like you. Show me this cute little sister of yours. We’ll take the dragon - let’s see what that old man of yours thinks when a stolen princess shows up riding a dragon wanting to marry his daughter.”
