Mainlining Christmas

I can't remember ever hearing of "Bump in the Night," but Lindsay swears it was popular in its day. It was a stop motion series from the mid-90's about a monster named Bumpy and his friends. We wound up getting the hour-long Christmas special on the "Christmas Cartoon Collection" DVD Lindsay found for six bucks at Toys R Us. Calling this bizarre is an understatement: it's one of the strangest Christmas specials I've ever seen... and that's saying something. Bumpy sets out on a quest to steal Santa's sack of gifts from the North Pole. On the way he manipulates others into assisting him by promising them presents. The animation is impressive. It's warped and twisted, as is the writing. The jokes are farther apart than I'd have liked, but most are clever (some were exceptionally so). Ultimately, we're left with something mixed. It has an amazing tone thanks to a shockingly dark sense of humor, but the pace is way too slow. Th

Ah yes, the olden days, when Christmas was a time of mingling between the upper and lower classes, and the lords and the peasants sang together unless the peasants were pissed off. Early Britain: a time of terribly inaccurate costume choices and horrible child acting. This was a very odd program. It must be in the public domain or very cheap, because it’s on two of our collections of Classic TV Christmas episodes. Like most of the programs I’ve seen from this time, there is little-to-no visible indication of snow, winter, or nighttime, even when it would seem that those things would be relevant. The “acting” is all around ridiculous and the production values are trying to be better than they are. In any case, this story follows an annoying young peasant lad, Davie, who has a lilting soprano and an unnatural affection for a goose who he’s decided is his only friend. When the new local manor lord objects to Davie gathering mistletoe in his game preserve, Mildred the goose darts u

Every day at midnight between December 1st and December 25th I'll be posting new genre fiction about Christmas Eve. Today's a short horror story called "Heirlooms". By: Erin L. Snyder The box was gold, decorated with pearl-white ribbons and silver beads, many of which had fallen off over the years. Teresa took a handkerchief and wiped off some of the accumulated dust from the outside before continuing. “Alice. Alice, dear,” she said. “Please come sit with me.” Her daughter came over and sat cross-legged on the floor. “No, Dear. Up on the couch.” Teresa never raised her voice around her daughter. Alice was special. She was smart, but there’d always been something different about the girl. She didn’t see the world quite the same way as other children. A few years earlier, Teresa had taken Alice to see an old college friend of hers who taught psychology at the University. She’s not autistic, her friend had said, somewhat apologetically. At least, I don’t think sh

Anyone who knows anything about Christmas knows that Mainlining Christmas is the only site on the internet that truly encapsulates the holiday in its entirety. Normally, I wouldn't think a statement so manifest by the unnatural light of a million multi-colored bulbs would require further explanation. But apparently, I'd be wrong. Because, apparently, we're not the only ones laying claim to Christmas. Recently, I came across Christmas.com . The bottom of their page proclaims, "Christmas.com is the Official Website of Christmas 2012." First off, who the hell approved that? Do they have a notarized letter of permission from Jesus? You'd think something like that would belong on their About Us page, and I just checked: it's not there. I guess they feel comfortable backing up that claim. So let's compare content. Mainlining Christmas has reviewed more than a hundred fifty specials, movies, and Christmas-themed television episodes to cull the half do

This is the second time I've seen How the Grinch Stole Christmas, the first being in the theater when it was originally released. That was quite a while ago, but the experience stuck with me: I remember thinking it was a poorly conceived, ill-advised attempt to adapt a near-perfect classic into a full-length movie which resulted in a mess that insulted Dr. Seuss, the viewing public, and common taste. But it turns out my memory was faulty. When I actually sat down to rewatch this, I discovered it was far, far worse than I was remembering. Calling this a poorly conceived mess is a compliment. This isn't some innocent insult; it twisted Seuss's brilliant designs into grotesque horrors. It doesn't merely mangle his lines: it actually goes out of its way to mock them, without so much as a hint of humor or shame. For those of you who have never had the opportunity to watch The Grinch or slowly have your hand run through a meat-grinder, allow me to to attempt to discuss

I knew that this show existed, although I don't recall ever seeing an episode before. It's odd, but kind of charming. From what I gathered of the premise, Holmes has been awoken/resurrected in the far future, Captain America style, except with even more super-science. Watson is rebuilt as some kind of robot, and the new Lestrade is a lady cop. I liked her, she seemed to be the muscle. Overall I enjoyed this. It had some awkward made-for-children 'humor' and some cut corners in production here and there, but as a rather unique version of Holmes, I'm actually really on board with this. The tone of the setting was really interesting, and the whole pastiche seemed to be right on the best line between taking the source material seriously while being delightfully tongue in cheek when appropriate. I was wholly amused with the adaptation of the Blue Carbuncle story, in this case a popular animatronic toy with a program hidden inside, rather than a goose with a gemst

Every day at midnight between December 1st and December 25th I'll be posting genre fiction about Christmas Eve. The first installment is a short science fiction piece. By: Erin L. Snyder Even before he lays a finger on the small, wrapped box, Charles Windmire knows precisely how it will feel. He is surprised by this, at least in part. He’d expected a sense of nostalgia, being here, being now , but this transcends that. He knows the texture of the gold paper and the way the soft fabric beneath it will give the tiniest bit when he squeezes it. He knows the how firm the gift tag is, just as he knows what’s printed on it. “To my dearest Lin, in celebration of our first Christmas together... and to all the others that follow.” The irony is not lost on Charles as he lifts the box from its spot beneath the tree. And looks at it. All, just as he remembers. It isn’t happening once, but many times. He feels dizzy and sits down. It is an effect of the journey, he suspects. He ne