Let There Be Lights

The French are a people who, in the immortal words of National Lampoon, “fight with their feet and fuck with their faces.”

They are also good with light. We know this because the first successful photographer was a Frenchman. Joseph Nicéphore Niépce. His first photo was of rooftops.

His second photo was of a nude woman. This, too, is French.

Mary was nude when she gave birth to Jesus. Which is not often mentioned in the Christmas stories. We also know, from the true-life non-fiction tome The Da Vinci Code, that after the crucifixion, which did not actually happen, Mary went with her son Jesus, and her daughter-in-law, also named Mary, up into France, where they all ate cheese and drank bordeaux and raised the children of Jesus. Of which I am a direct descendant.

Everything is connected.

Some people might think it might be a little cold for Mary to be nude when giving birth to Jesus, there on December 25. Except that Jesus wasn’t actually born on Christmas. The best guess is that he was, in truth, born in March. Which would make him a Pisces. And in March it wouldn’t be that cold, if you were nude and giving birth to Jesus. Especially if you were in the manger, and there receiving warmth from the kindly animals.

We know that the animals were kindly, and that they were in the manger, because that is why at midnight every Christmas morning all the animals all over the world are gifted for a bit with human speech, if they feel like speaking it. This is the animals’ annual reward for being kind and warm in the manger, when Mary was nude, and giving birth to Jesus.

We know this “Night The Animals Talk” is Real because my friend David cared for the rodents at the college Rat Lab, and one early Christmas morning he was there, and he Recorded the rats, when they talked in human speech, and then he transcribed their remarks, and I put them in a Newspaper, of which I was then the editor.

That newspaper is probably there somewhere down in the basement. But it would take a Miracle of Jesus to timely find it. So I am not going to try.

Mary was also nude when she created Jesus.

Jesus was born nude. So was Adam. And Eve. And I. And you.

God is always nude.

The reason why Christmas is on December 25, rather than in March, where it belongs, is because of the peeing. Which is something humans usually do when they are at least partially nude. A lot of the animals pee to mark their territory, and since humans are animals, they do that too. Sometimes, when marking their territory, with their pee, the humans pee on the calendar. This is why, back in the day, church primates and prelates decided to declare December 25 the day of Jesus’ birth—in order to pee on the pagans, people who celebrate the winter solstice each year around December 21, and the Jews, whose Hanukkah generally extends into late December. Christmas Day on December 25 is the territory-marking Christian pee announcing the Christians have taken over, there in the religion, taking over even in the calendar. The prelates and primates also peed Easter into the calendar, in order to supplant the Passover of the Jews, and the spring equinox of the pagans.

Sometimes the peeing is in the form of buildings. This is why the Cathedral Of Notre Dame in Paris is sited where once stood a Druid sacred grove. And why the Muslims made up some balderdash about Mohammed riding a horse up to heaven, and then claimed this fairy tale commenced upon the soil where they erected the Al-Aqsa Mosque. Which is solidified Muslim pee deliberately built upon the bones of the Hebrew Holy Temple of Jerusalem. Which in turn was maybe elevated there to replace some hut where some differently religiously oriented peoples used to venerate calf’s heads or something. Who knows.

Jerusalem is an unholy mess of furious peeing by Christians, Jews, and Muslims; just about every stone and dirt clod in the place is claimed by the pee of one or more of these peoples. That is why when the state of Israel was formed the United Nations declared Jerusalem an international city, belonging to no one. They did not want zealots of various Abrahamic persuasions running amok through the streets with their firehoses of pee and making the Killings. But the Killings happened anyway. As if the city doesn’t already have enough trouble, Mongo has now inserted his micropenis into the pee-pool. Which has made even more of the Killings. Mongo is a creature of Thanatos; so, Killing: that is what he does best.

But anyway. About the light. And the French. And Mary.

For many centuries, the people of Lyon, there in France, have in early December paid homage to Mary, in gratitude to the god-woman for interceding with Yahweh—who is always nude—to spare the city from the plague, back in 1643. In them Olden Times, said homage involved a procession culminating at the Basilica of Fourviere, where candles were lit and offerings presented.

In 1852, the sculptor Joseph Hugues Fabisch erected a Mary statue next to the Basilica. The people of Lyon planned for December 8 a mammoth Mary party. Here is what happened:

Leading up to the inauguration, everything was in place for the festivities: the statue was lit up with flares, fireworks were readied for launching from the top of Fourvière Hill and marching bands were set to play in the streets. The prominent Catholics of the time suggested lighting up the facades of their homes as was traditionally done for major events such as royal processions and military victories.

However, on the morning of the big day, a storm struck Lyon. The master of ceremonies hastily decided to cancel everything and to push back the celebrations to the following Sunday. In the end the skies cleared and the people of Lyon, who had been eagerly anticipating the event, spontaneously lit up their windows, descended into the streets and lit flares to illuminate the new statue and the Chapel of Notre-Dame-de-Fourvière, later superseded by the Basilica. The people sang songs and cried “Vive Marie!” until late in the night.

In years since, Lyon humans have each December 8 placed Mary-devoted lit-candles on their windowsills, just as they did in that year of the bad storm. The place is alive with light.

Meanwhile, in the center of town, various assorted lightbringing performances now draw up to 4 million people, to what has become a four-day event.

Back in 2011, the Lyon Mary-fest featured some clever humans from the French lighting company CT Light Concept, who projected with colored lights an assortment of pinball bumpers and flippers onto the side of the Celestine Theater. The display was fully playable. This was known as “Holy Mary, Mother Of Pinball.” I wrote about all that, then, here.

This year I decided to spice up the post with some violence and nudity. They say such sells.

Below is a video of some of the wonderments from this year’s festival. A psychedelic experience. Without the necessity of ingesting psychedelics.

LSD was discovered by Albert Hoffman in the French part of Switzerland. Just sayin’. Also, previously, the French ate it for centuries, in its naturally occurring form, ergot of rye, which gets into the grain, and then allows the humans who ingest it, to see pretty colors. Also, god. Nude.

2 Responses to “Let There Be Lights”

  1. 1 janis December 21, 2017 at 8:16 pm

    Thanks for the cultural Christmas contributions … from Bethlehem to France and Italy, and to you for the humorous and profane element.

    Seriously, thank you for the story and the images.

    And thanks to Ken Kesey and Ram Dass. I watched this documentary last week …


    Lots of good tales.

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When I Worked

December 2017

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