Formerly Felines for Anarchistic Green Democracies

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the Story of Chanukah, Red Sox style
Part I: the cruel reign of Steinbrennochus
Part II: rise of the Soxxabees
Part III: the rebellion begins!
Parts IV, V, and VI
Parts VII and VIII

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Saturday, December 31, 2005  
The story of Chanukah, Red Sox style, Parts IV, V, and VI: the Battle for MLBea, the Cleansing of the Temple, and the Turning On of the Fenway Lights

This is a longish one, because of the various things that prevented me from posting before, so I'm saying it includes three parts.

the Battle for MLBea

In recent past years, the Soxxabees would not have been able to enter the city in force, for their numbers had indeed been as sparse as Steinbrennochus assumed. But the success of their guerilla fighting had swelled their numbers as more and more people found the Red Sox cause to be a good one, and the destruction of the troops sent to rout them had hardened the rebels and made them battle-ready.

With the four Soxxabees at their head, the Red Sox people marched upon the capital city of MLBea, bats and balls and other weaponry at hand. Steinbrennochus sent his soldiers out to meet them, and they were surprised, for when they had been told that the Red Sox were marching upon them they had expected a small motley group of shaggy men with old splintering bats and untied shoes.

Instead they found the Red Sox to be numerous and filled with the fervor of a people long and wrongfully oppressed. The Yankee soldiers expected little in the way of discipline, for they could not comprehend how a people could fight as one if they did not share the same rigid hair style, if their robes were worn askew and in a variety of fashions. The Red Sox however were not held in thrall of such external considerations, and fought well, coordinated by the Soxxabees and plunging Steinbrennochus’ men into confusion and despair.

The battle was bloody and long, and many took great hurt in the fighting, and many heroic deeds were done. In the end the Red Sox and the Soxxabees were victorious, and the dead in the street were clad most often in pinstripes.

The Soxxabees gathered from the four corners of the city where they had been leading the people in battle, meeting in front of their main Temple, a large fair building clad in green and known as Fenway. Ortiz’s bat was dripping with Yankee blood, and Wakefield was wiping clean his baseball of destruction. Varitek had received a slight wound on his noble backside, for that was the only part of him that the cowardly Yankee legions would dare attack, fearing a fight head-on after they had seen Varitek unman their admittedly not very manly leader with a simple push of his mighty glove. Luckily for the Red Sox, the posterior part of the Soxxabee’s anatomy was so powerful that no mere Yankee strike could harm it very badly. Youkilis was strangely unhurt, but spoke enthusiastically about his end of the battle.

the Cleansing of the Temple

The four brave Red Sox met and smiled, for the city was theirs, and they knew that the people and Gabatthius would be pleased. Then they looked to Fenway, and their smiles faded, for the clear green façade had been defaced by the blasphemous occupying forces. Upon the walls were scrawled clumsy stripes and interlocking Ns and Ys, and depictions of Babe Ruth’s face, and the name ‘Aaron Boone’ with little hearts drawn around it, and crude graffiti reading ‘Jeter 4eva’, and other such obscenities, unfit for a temple.

They called out to the people, and the people came and saw Fenway, and the joy in their hearts from the victory was dampened, and they were sad, for this was their holiest of holy Temples, and to see it in such a state was cruel indeed.

But the Soxxabees knew that mere sadness was not the way to solve anything (referring in their hearts to the teachings of the old scholar, Millarmonides), and they told the people to get water and rags and whatever they could lay hold of, and they set about scrubbing clean the walls of Fenway. The people were heartened, for it was good to have something to do in the face of such defilement.

The Soxxabees entered into the Temple to behold the damage within. It was in a sorry state, with more graffiti on the inside and on the seats, and giant cardboard cutouts of Yankee soldiers standing on the field, with offerings laid in front of them, and this icon worship was the crudest form of blasphemy. The Soxxabees tore down the cutouts and made a fire of them on the pitcher’s mound, and the smoke of its burning rose high into the sky, cleansing the area, and all who saw it were glad.

There was yet one thing left to do, if the Temple was to be rendered anything like fit again. The lights must be lit, and they must be left on through the nights and the days so that the people could continue to clean and purify the temple, and to show the land of MLBea that Fenway was back in the proper holy hands.

the Turning On of the Fenway Lights

It was not so simple as flipping a switch, though, for the battles had been hard on the land, and the electricity was out. Varitek however was the high priest, or Captain, and knew the ways of Fenway well, and he told the others of the Temple generator, which would supply independent electricity to the place. The four set out to find this generator, for night was falling and the lights needed to be quickly restored.

Long they searched, and finally they found the generator, in a small room, and even this room had been ransacked by the shameless men of Steinbrennochus, and the floor was littered with curious magazines which Wakefield toed into the dark corners so that young Youkilis could not see them. “General Hidekius has been here,” he muttered to Varitek, who nodded gravely and pulled Youkilis away from the magazines.

Ortiz had been examining the generator, and now he straightened up, solemn of face. “Fellow Soxxabees,” he dolorously intoned, “this generator’s been damaged, it ain’t gonna be able to put out more’n a day’s worth of power.”

They all looked at the generator, and saw that it was true. They thought long and hard about how to get more power, but another way could not be found, and Wakefield, the cleverest Soxxabee, looked over the machine many a time before sadly pronouncing Ortiz’s original assessment correct. The Soxxabees knew that their allies in New Hampshire would be coming down to aid them in rebuilding the city and the Temple, and then the lights could be returned to full power, but the time of their arrival was yet 8 days away.

“We gotta turn it on anyways,” young Youkilis said. “The people need to see the lights of Fenway, even if it’s just for a night.” The others nodded in agreement.

“Wish we could find a way t’keep ‘em on ‘til the New Hampshireites get here,” Ortiz said, “but the kid’s right, the people fought hard and we gotta turn on those lights.”

Wakefield threw the switch, and the generator sputtered fitfully before settling into a dull hum, and the Soxxabees could hear the muffled murmur of the people outside exclaiming happily at the sight of the lights of their Temple turning on.

As they walked out of Fenway, the lights burning bright above them, they sighed and shook their heads, for it was sad to think that the lights would not stay on as they should, and they shook their fists at the suffering still being inflicted by Steinbrennochus and his cruel rule, even in his defeat.

Varitek however looked upon the lights and smiled, for they were white and clean in the night, and he said unto the other Soxxabees, “Fear not, and Keep the Faith, and we shall see what we shall see.”

One installment left to complete the story of Chankuah, Red Sox style!

6:49 PM

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