Stay in the Loop
BSR publishes on a weekly schedule, with an email newsletter every Wednesday and Thursday morning. There’s no paywall, and subscribing is always free.
It's beginning to look a lot like Charybdis
My Greco-Roman Christmas
Perry Block
It's been a tough 2,000 years for the Jewish people, as my ancestors and I can personally attest. But suppose Fate had taken the world down a different path?
"Governor Palin," asked a reporter at a press conference, "what's your position on school prayer?"
"Sam, my position on school prayer is unwavering. Zeus should never have been expelled from the classroom. Where on earth would this nation be without the teachings of Zeus and his one true son, Hercules?"
"What's your thinking about global warming?" asked a young woman in the front row.
"As far as I'm concerned," Palin snapped, "the global warming problem is limited to one person and one person only— Icarus! I'm sorry he fell into the ocean, but he shouldn't have been flying above the ozone layer."
I'd had enough. I mean, why do some Americans act as if this were a strictly Greco-Roman nation?
I drove into Center City, looking for a little holiday cheer. Sure enough, when I got downtown, everywhere the city was aglow with joyous signs of the annual Winter Festival of Charybdis, Spirit of the Ocean Whirlpool. On every street corner, in a scene out of a Currier & Ives print, I could hear carolers singing, "It's beginning to look a lot like Charybdis."
"Good King Menelaus looked out on the Feast of Helen," warbled another merry group.
Later, as I walked down South Street, I was surrounded by ethereal-looking young people imploring me to accept leaflets they were handing out. I recognized them immediately: "Prometheus freaks!" I muttered to myself. But out loud I managed only a polite, "No, thank you," and continued on my way.
"Don't walk away, sir!" a young woman called after me. "Prometheus sacrificed and suffered to give mankind a wonderful gift."
"Yeah," I retorted, "I know: fire! I'll remember him the next time I'm barbecuing a steak."
A man standing nearby caught up to me. "How did you know they were Prometheus freaks?" he asked.
"Most of them wear little necklaces with a pendant shaped like a half-eaten piece of liver," I explained. "Talk about morbid!"
On the way home, I wondered if one day we could all just live and let live. My friend Blitzstein, for example, has a successful mixed marriage: He's Jewish, she's Dionysian. I enjoy going to their house; his in-laws throw great parties.
And truth to tell, I do love the holiday season. I never get tired of the TV re-runs of Alastair Sim in A Charybdis Carol. Call me a sentimental old sap if you will, but I get all teary-eyed every time Tiny Tim says, "Zeus bless us, every one!"
"Governor Palin," asked a reporter at a press conference, "what's your position on school prayer?"
"Sam, my position on school prayer is unwavering. Zeus should never have been expelled from the classroom. Where on earth would this nation be without the teachings of Zeus and his one true son, Hercules?"
"What's your thinking about global warming?" asked a young woman in the front row.
"As far as I'm concerned," Palin snapped, "the global warming problem is limited to one person and one person only— Icarus! I'm sorry he fell into the ocean, but he shouldn't have been flying above the ozone layer."
I'd had enough. I mean, why do some Americans act as if this were a strictly Greco-Roman nation?
I drove into Center City, looking for a little holiday cheer. Sure enough, when I got downtown, everywhere the city was aglow with joyous signs of the annual Winter Festival of Charybdis, Spirit of the Ocean Whirlpool. On every street corner, in a scene out of a Currier & Ives print, I could hear carolers singing, "It's beginning to look a lot like Charybdis."
"Good King Menelaus looked out on the Feast of Helen," warbled another merry group.
Later, as I walked down South Street, I was surrounded by ethereal-looking young people imploring me to accept leaflets they were handing out. I recognized them immediately: "Prometheus freaks!" I muttered to myself. But out loud I managed only a polite, "No, thank you," and continued on my way.
"Don't walk away, sir!" a young woman called after me. "Prometheus sacrificed and suffered to give mankind a wonderful gift."
"Yeah," I retorted, "I know: fire! I'll remember him the next time I'm barbecuing a steak."
A man standing nearby caught up to me. "How did you know they were Prometheus freaks?" he asked.
"Most of them wear little necklaces with a pendant shaped like a half-eaten piece of liver," I explained. "Talk about morbid!"
On the way home, I wondered if one day we could all just live and let live. My friend Blitzstein, for example, has a successful mixed marriage: He's Jewish, she's Dionysian. I enjoy going to their house; his in-laws throw great parties.
And truth to tell, I do love the holiday season. I never get tired of the TV re-runs of Alastair Sim in A Charybdis Carol. Call me a sentimental old sap if you will, but I get all teary-eyed every time Tiny Tim says, "Zeus bless us, every one!"
Sign up for our newsletter
All of the week's new articles, all in one place. Sign up for the free weekly BSR newsletters, and don't miss a conversation.
