If Ken Burns had documented the Boston Snowmageddon of 2015

This exceptionally perfect video parody of Ken Burn's "Civil War" style documentary was featured in Boston Magazine's online page, as posted to YouTube, but it's no longer available due to a copyright claim on the music. 

However, those of us who had the foresight to download the short video can now share with others… 

The Geology of Winter

Bostonians point to the geological and fossil record to show true age of current winter, but Creationists dispute findings, insist winter has lasted no longer than 6,600 years.

The actual transcript of the Annunciation…

"The angel said to her, 'Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God (OK, that's a nice way of saying He thinks you have really great tits and you're a fox). And now, you will conceive in your womb (duh!) and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus (He knows you like "Kevin", sorry about that). 

He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High (for which he'll get unrelenting shit in 2nd Grade), and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David (and if he gets good grades, a new Corvette when he turns 17). He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end (thanks to those low Inheritance taxes from His most devout followers in Congress).' 

Mary said to the angel, 'How can this be, since I am a virgin?' The angel said to her, 'OK, clearly you missed Sex-Ed classes. The Holy Spirit will come upon you (well, inside you, if you want to get technical), and the power of the Most High will overshadow you (so none of this "consent" crap —no kicking and screaming, and NO pepper spray!); therefore the child to be born will be holy (as in wholly yours, so don't even think of a paternity suit!); he will be called Son of God (no — NOT Kevin, no matter how much crap he gets in 2nd Grade).' 

And Mary said unto the Angel, "Um, OK. But will he respect me in the morning?'" 

 (via the Gospel of Luke, unedited version)

Miss Sweetie-Poo is bored with you

Bored, bored, bored. So boring. Really, too boring. Drives me to tears, you’re so damn boring. 

Regret

There's no use in regret. You can't change anything.

Your mother died unhappy with the way you turned

out. You and your father were not on speaking terms

when he died, and you left your wife for no good
reason. Well, it's past. You may as well regret missing

out on the conquest of Mexico. That would have been

just your kind of thing back when you were eighteen:

a bunch of murderous Spaniards, out to destroy a

culture and get rich. On the other hand, the Aztecs

were no great shakes either. It's hard to know whom

to root for in this situation. The Aztecs thought they

had to sacrifice lots of people to keep the sun coming

up every day. And it worked. The sun rose every day.

But it was backbreaking labor, all that sacrificing.

The priests had to call in the royal family to help,

and their neighbors, the gardener, the cooks.... You

can see how this is going to end. You are going to

have your bloody, beating heart ripped out, but you

are going to have to stand in line, in the hot sun, for

hours, waiting your turn.


Regret by Louis Jenkins, from Tin Flag: New and Selected Prose Poems.
Will o' the Wisp Books. © 2013