The Sh*t Branch

"Historically, Mistletoe represents romance, fertility and vitality...because nothing says love like bird feces, parasites and poison."

The voice came from darkness as spotlights slowly opened on a lone speaker standing centerstage, round and black, unadorned apart from a single wreath hanging behind him, gradually being illuminated in tandem.

He stood a moment, hands folded before him while his initial proclamation sank in.

"I'm here tonight to disappoint, OR, more hopefully, to tell a story of the very unromantic etymology of viscum album, commonly known as Mistletoe.

"Perhaps you've blushed as somebody planted a kiss on you for inadvertently stepping under a spray of Mistletoe. Maybe you've been the one to take advantage of the opportunity. Congrats, you have made your move beneath a plant both parasitic and toxic! One whose name originates from the Old English 'mistel' meaning 'filth' or 'shit' and 'tan' for 'branch'. Yes, this enduring tradition popularized among the working-class folks of the Victorian era happens under the Shit Branch, named for the fact that it occurs in crooks of trees visited and inoculated by wayfaring birds who just couldn't hold it anymore.

"How's that for love?! I'm not only talking to those recently divorced like myself. You young puppy-love canoodlers are in for it, too!"

He seemed to be going off script.

"You're in love right?! Bah! You're in love with an idea! With the silly notion that you've got something nobody else could even understand. Hey, Everybody! It's a miracle!"

The house lights started to come up and some stagehands tried gently to usher the emerging lunatic offstage. They ended up carrying him off kicking and screaming a bunch more things about love...so that's what we'll take away from this talk. In the end, it's all about love.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!