The Right has, understandably, been in a joyous mood as of late. Populism is on the rise almost everywhere across the West; Trump’s return to power, almost a year ago, put an end to the notion that wokery had come to stay, that it could not be reverted, and that conservatives would sooner or later have to come to terms with it. We now know that collective neurosis can, indeed, be led to collapse under the weight of its own absurdities—if only those of us who are sensible and patient enough have the energy for the fight. But triumphalism is a dangerous false friend, as the events surrounding the quiet cancellation of Christmas in Portugal have come to show.

Binge-watching is a habit that’s usually good to avoid, especially when watching on your own. However, during the week after Christmas and before New Year’s — in which so many families find themselves sandwiched between big gatherings or parties and maybe even forgetting what day it is — spending a little extra time together in front of the silver screen with popcorn and in pajamas is to be expected, and can even prove restful.

While Christmas in hospital would not be on many people’s festive wish list, for retired nurse Miriam Harvey, it was one of the happiest days of the year.

“We would close one of the operating theatres and eat our Christmas lunch on the operating table,” the former theatre sister remembers.

“We always kept one operating theatre vacant so we could have our dinner on it.”

Merry Christmas everyone! I wish you the best of the day surrounded by loved ones and feasting lots and lots of feasting!

This Christmas please keep readers PA Cat and XavierCugat in your prayers.

PA Cat has some serious health woes so please let her know we care.

XC’s Mom will spend the day in hospital though there has been good progress with her heart condition.

I am thankful for our little community and for the opportunity to share some Christmas with you all.

Please enjoy the movies and the carols.

A Christmas Carol aka Scrooge

The Bishop’s Wife

PS. Xavier would not sit still for a pic. He is a treat extortionist.

This is the moment Donald Trump tells a child American authorities are tracking Father Christmas as he doesn’t want a ‘bad Santa infiltrating our country’.

He told the child from Oklahoma during the annual tradition of calling children all over the US: ‘We track Santa all over the world. We want to make sure that Santa is being good.

‘We want to make sure that he’s not infiltrated, that we’re not infiltrating into our country a bad Santa.

.@POTUS: "We track Santa all over the world… We want to make sure that he's not infiltrated — that we're not infiltrating into our country a bad Santa. We found that Santa is GOOD!" 🎅🏻 pic.twitter.com/Xj4BASNUKT

— Rapid Response 47 (@RapidResponse47) December 24, 2025

Watching A Charlie Brown Christmas has been a tradition for millions since it first aired on December 9, 1965. In 2020, many Americans were disappointed that Apple TV scooped up the streaming rights for future years. The outrage ultimately resulted in it showing up exclusively on PBS and again on 2021.

The world being what it is, there is always plenty of justification for pessimism. Christmas can be especially difficult if we are facing illness, divorce, or financial hardship. The season’s jollity taunts and rebukes us. Our thoughts may turn to those who, without expectation of return, supported us and believed in us, in the vague but civilization-sustaining hope that one day we would vindicate their faith. That these people are too often out of our minds, crowded as we are with the mere business of life, contributes to the moral drift of middle age. We find ourselves further and further from whatever we set out to become. And yet hope, whether it be for eternal salvation or something nearer to hand, must be embraced. We are an optimistic people. That is our signature strength.

In the Dickens classic, Christ redeems capitalism

One year in the late-Nineties or early-2000s, when I was around 10 years old, my mom and grandma dressed me up and swept me into the city, through the doors of the grand Pabst Theater. This is where I first learned the term “nosebleeds,” as we ascended a gilded staircase to our seats at the tippy top of the balcony.

We were there to see the Milwaukee Repertory Theater’s annual rendition of A Christmas Carol, as we would do nearly every year into the future. The Pabst is a stunning venue, the kind of place that makes you think your town is special, though as I got older, I realized just about every American city has its own version of the Pabst: a local magnate’s eponymous temple to the arts, built with spoils from the Industrial Revolution.

This makes it the perfect home for Charles Dickens. In the mid-19th century, as A Christmas Carol debuted, Milwaukee was a grand city in the style of Chicago, infused with German culture and European elegance. The city’s prosperity, however, often did not extend to the laborers who produced the wealth. Humbug!

In case you missed the best version ...

“I think it’s my favorite Christmas song.

My reasons are kind of personal. As a kid the only Christmas album we owned was a giveaway Christmas record from the Pure Oil Company, my grandfather’s employer. Frank Sinatra got the title cut, and there were other Christmas songs covered by Jo Stafford (O Little Town of Bethlehem) the Hi-Los (Deck the Halls) and so on. To me, the artists on this album seemed impossibly old at the time (they were recording before I was born!) and the Pure Oil connection made me feel like it was something special.”