One sunny afternoon, my friends and I stumbled upon a strange and mystical tree house hidden deep within the forest. Little did we know, this would be the start of an incredible journey filled with magic and wonder. As we cautiously stepped inside the tree house, we were greeted by an old, wise-looking man with a long white beard. This man introduced himself as Merlin, the legendary wizard. He explained that he had been awaiting our arrival, as he needed our help to retrieve an ancient artifact. Merlin told us that this artifact had the power to bring peace and harmony to the world, but it had been stolen by an evil sorcerer.
This part of Saturnalia continued even into the 19th century of the United States, so much so that laws were passed in New England against caroling and being publicly drunk on Christmas Eve, laws which the Church in Europe had never fully succeeded in enforcing. By this time, however, the new order of capitalism had taken enough hold that the calvinist-bourgeois values of commerce, the nuclear family, and the sanctity of individual wealth were able to supplant survivals of Saturnalian revelry in most places.
Enough of what was written about Saturn suggests maybe this is the case, as both Saturn and Kronos represent much older understandings of gods and, like The Furies don t say their name aloud, really or Hecate, are seen to be from more ancient orders. Christmas may no longer be a riot, caroling may no longer be a house-invasion, and humans may still toil in endless labor and even continued slavery, yet Roman priests knew the same truth psychotherapists know deep desires and ancient drives cannot simply be consigned to the underworld.
Merlin told us that this artifact had the power to bring peace and harmony to the world, but it had been stolen by an evil sorcerer. He revealed that the tree house was no ordinary tree house, but a portal to different realms and dimensions. With his guidance, we would travel through time and space to locate and retrieve the artifact.
“Piss-Drunk”
Several years ago, I found myself wandering through the crowded, raucous streets of Dublin on Christmas Eve, staring in disbelief at the scenes before me.
Neither the subtle, laughing warnings from my host nor the more direct accounts of others had prepared me. “Christmas Eve is. different here” my host had said. “You heard of piss-drunk?” an acquaintance had laughed. But none of this had really meant much to me until, trudging a bit intoxicated myself back from a drag show, I tried to make my way through the throngs filling the streets.
To get home, I had to cross one of the many bridges across the river Liffey, and the most direct was the Ha’penny bridge (so named because it once cost that much to cross). So I made my way across it, but slowly, finding my gait constantly interrupted by throngs of perhaps the drunkest people I’d seen in all my life (and I once worked at a bar….).
It was while crossing that bridge I saw what my acquaintance had meant, but even still didn’t quite believe what I was seeing. It’s a habit of many gay men—and perhaps not the safest habit sometimes—to find ones gaze occasionally directed towards the crotches of other men. And usually it’s the briefest of unconscious glances, taking in the entirety of a person as you pass by them, but at that moment I found myself unwillingly staring at several men. Not, mind, for what I imagined hidden in their jeans, but rather because their trousers were soaking wet.
I looked away quickly, shaking my head. I figured no doubt the men I’d noticed were probably quite embarrassed at the fact they’d pissed themselves, and I didn’t want to contribute to this. Walking on, though, with my gaze instead averted at the ground, I began to notice they’d not been the only men to have suffered from an apparent incontinence. The trouser legs of several others were wet, and I moved even quicker through the crowds to get back home.
Not far from my host’s home, however, I came upon one last group, all men, all very loudly drunk, all laughing with one of their companions who, to my morbid fascination, was currently pissing himself. There was no shame or ridicule in their laughter, nor did their companion even try to hide what he was doing. Getting “piss-drunk” on that holy night was apparently just another part of the celebrations. My host and my acquaintances had certainly been correct, though. Christmas Eve in Dublin was certainly different from what I’d come to expect of it in the United States.
Excitement and curiosity surged through us as we followed Merlin's instructions and stepped through the portal. In an instant, we found ourselves transported to a medieval castle, surrounded by knights in shining armor and fair maidens. We journeyed through immense forests, where mystical creatures whispered secrets and legends echoed through the air. In one instance, we found ourselves underwater, swimming alongside colorful mermaids and discovering hidden treasures. Throughout our adventures, Merlin guided us, teaching us spells and enchantments to aid us on our quest. With his wisdom and magic, we overcame numerous challenges and obstacles in our quest to find the stolen artifact. On our journey, we encountered treacherous riddles, towering giants, and enchanted forests. But through it all, we remained determined and united, knowing that the artifact's recovery would bring great joy to the world. As we reached our final destination, a dark and treacherous cave, we stood face to face with the evil sorcerer. With Merlin's assistance, we engaged in a thrilling battle of magic and wit. In a climactic showdown, we managed to defeat the sorcerer and retrieve the precious artifact. The moment we held the artifact in our hands, a surge of positive energy filled the air. We watched as peace and harmony were restored throughout the land. People rejoiced, and the world seemed to sparkle with newfound hope. Our journey through the magical tree house with Merlin was an experience beyond our wildest dreams. It taught us the power of courage, friendship, and the enduring strength of good over evil. And as we bid farewell to Merlin and the tree house, we knew that we would carry the memories of this incredible adventure with us for the rest of our lives..
Reviews for "Exploring the Secrets of Merlin's Tree House: A Magical Quest Awaits"
1. Lily - 2 stars
I was really disappointed with "Journey through the magical tree house with Merlin." The storyline felt extremely rushed and unoriginal. The characters were one-dimensional and lacked depth. Additionally, the writing style was bland and monotonous, making it difficult to stay engaged in the story. Overall, I did not find any magic or excitement in this book, and I would not recommend it to others.
2. James - 1 star
I found "Journey through the magical tree house with Merlin" to be a complete waste of time. The plot was predictable and lacked any sort of creativity. The descriptions were minimal, leaving me with no vivid imagery or sense of wonder. The dialogue was poorly written and lacked authenticity. The entire reading experience felt tedious and was a struggle to get through. I regret picking up this book and would advise others to avoid it.
3. Sarah - 2 stars
I had high expectations for "Journey through the magical tree house with Merlin," but unfortunately, it fell flat for me. The pacing was off, with the story dragging on in some parts and rushing through others. The character development was weak, and I couldn't connect with any of them. The magical elements felt forced and underdeveloped, leaving me wanting more. Overall, I was left feeling unsatisfied and unimpressed with this book.