
Well, a kinda-sorta white Christmas, anyway. We do what we can. Happy happy joy joy to the lot of yis.

Well, a kinda-sorta white Christmas, anyway. We do what we can. Happy happy joy joy to the lot of yis.
• An appreciation of “Fairytale of New York” from Michael Brendan Dougherty.
• The backstory from Wikipedia.
• An alternate version from Christy Moore.
So happy Christmas. I love ye, baby. …

As longtime visitors to the DogS(h)ite know, I will never be smart.
Still, “never” is an awfully long time. Especially now that a study indicates that running “seems to require a greater amount of high-level thinking than most of us might imagine,” or so says Gretchen Reynolds in The New York Times.
The study, published in a neuroscience journal, found that the brains of competitive distance runners “had different connections in areas known to aid in sophisticated cognition than the brains of healthy but sedentary people,” Reynolds recounts, adding: “The discovery suggests that there is more to running than mindlessly placing one foot in front of another.”
Well. Shit. Naturally I laced up the old runners straight away and toddled off for my first jog of the winter.
And … nothing. Bupkis. Still as dumb as a stump.
Still, I’ll probably keep after it. At least running gets you out in the open air. Like crucifixion.

Happy birthday, Frank Zappa.
And a happy solstice to everyone else. The days get longer from here. Especially the ones following Inauguration Day.
Thus, “Whippin’ Post.”