Back in the day (I was young then) around about this time of year some lucky young man would be about to have the time of his life. Picked apparently at random, he was made the King of the Saturnalia. He got all the booze, food, and booty he could lay his hands on, and then he got killed. One of those wonderful mid-winter festival things. Christmas is probably where it is in the year to cover it up.
So, let’s all open a bottle and drink to the Old Days, because if we hadn’t had them there’d be a great big hole in History and we probably wouldn’t be here.
Whatever form of festival you’re having around this time, have a really good one.
Thaumatology 