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the story of christmas
it now seems clear to
me, has been, will always
be, a story of fallen trees. and power. take, for
example, i mean, surely you know the name if not the purported reputation,
remember that no matter how dear that good king
wenceslas may have been, he was
out of his realm, to put it poignantly. and he was never anything but a
lumberjack. actually, the ones i knew should have, could have toppled the old
fart. and they’d have done so with ease, precision and grace.
