Let’s see, seven down, five to ago, and I’ve already trashed the French, the English, fans of Sunee Plaza, and the Russians. Looks like its time to spread some Christmas jeer the Germans way. For the last 50 years or so, the German have played it smart, keeping to the background, laying low, and trying to not remind the world they exist. This year all of a sudden they’re drawing attention to themselves by whining about how America has ripped off and bastardized their Christmas traditions. Uh, duh. We’re America. That’s what we do. But you get McDonald’s in trade. And at least we don’t confuse Silent Night with Crystal Night. Or confuse some other culture’s traditions with our own and then try to claim credit for them.

Germany is trying claim they invented Santa Claus, pointing at some image from a few hundred years ago as proof. That’d be cool but the real Saint Nick came a few centuries earlier than that. He was known as a man of elfin proportions who had a bushy white beard. So good try but you might want to check with Thailand to find out how you are supposed to deal with producing a knock-off. And claiming it’s original ain’t it.

Germany used to try to claim they invented the Christmas tree too. Granted, they came up with one made out of toilet bowl bristles, but that’s not exactly building a better mouse trap. Hundreds of years earlier the Circassians had Christmas trees. At least until the Russsians came to town, invented modern day genocide, and started practicing gay bashing before they had gays to bash. To give credit where it’s due, Germany did come up with blown glass Christmas tree ornaments. But not, as they also like to claim, the infamous pickle ornament. So blow that. In any case, before the pickle comes the balls – at least from my usual perspective – and the idea of Christmas balls came from a bit further south and several centuries earlier. And it’s those yule time low hangers that are the subject of today’s holiday tale. For which we have to go back to the 800s and the Byzantine Empire.

Back then Rome was the world’s sole super power and until they got a bit too full of themselves understood the importance of spin. So after conquering all of the countries worth conquering, they allowed the rather difficult to deal with tribes a bit northeast of them to believe they were still under their own rule. No biggie. The trade routes and the cash that commerce from them produced still made its way to where it mattered: Italy. And though it’d still be another few centuries before Shakespeare pointed out that all roses smell the same, the Roman Empire allowed the eastern part of their world to call itself the Byzantine Empire. Though the folks back home usually called it the Eastern Roman Empire. Which worked out well for those who preferred acting like they were not a subjugated people ‘cuz when Rome took a nose dive into obscurity during the 5th century, the Byzantine Empire just acted like they hadn’t noticed and continued on their merry way for another thousand years or so.

Unlike Rome, which was oriented toward Latin culture and heavily into polytheism, Byzantium was big on doing it Greek-style and practiced a form of orthodox Christianity. Even if they couldn’t agree on exactly what form that form should take and spent years busily killing each other over the squabble. “Cuz that’s what Jesus would do. Which brings us to 812, and the reign of Michael I. (Digression Note #1: When you are an Emperor and people start referring to you as ‘The First’ it’s not a good sign and your future doesn’t look too rosy.) Michael was at war with the Franks (yup, it’s those damn French sticking heir gallic noses into yet another Christmas tale). Things weren’t going well and since Byzantium had already been used to being some other empire’s bitch, he recognized Charlemagne as Emperor, got Venice back in the trade , and then called the whole thing off, took his The First title back and went back to war. Until karma handed him a bitch slap for being an Indian-giver and his army was seriously trounced at the Battle of Versinikia.

Losing a major battle is never a good thing when you’re Emperor. It tends to make you look bad. It usually doesn’t make you look to good either when you are General. Especially when you run away, abandoning the battlefield. But a King trumps a knight and Michael earned his The First title by abdicating in favor of said general, Leo the Armenian, soon to be called Leo V. As a thanks, Leo had Michael I’s sons castrated. Which you are probably thinking is my cute little way of segueing into the origin of Christmas balls. But that’d be a cheap shot. And I’m not that easy.

Now you might think a one horse open sleigh sounds like fun, but in Byzantium castration was all the rage. Forced castration to be precise. Because otherwise we’d be talking about ladyboys in Thailand. Castration was good for whatever ailed you back then, be that thieves, adulterers, liars, or blasphemers. And it topped the charts when it came to palace intrigue too. Whacking off the balls of your political nemesis’ offspring was common. And a practice most of us wish had survived long enough for Bill Clinton to have used. It was both a smooth shave and a smooth move if you were a newly crowned Emperor ‘cuz then you didn’t have to worry about the outgoing monarch’s kids trying to dethrone you. Not just because of the depression castration tends to bring on, but because in the Byzantine Empire the Emperor was considered a reflection of heavenly authority. Kinda like the Tea Party views Sarah Palin. And since God was perfect, the Emperor also had to be unblemished; any mutilation, such as finding yourself suddenly ball-less, would disqualify an individual from taking the throne. Not to mention people in other empires would laugh at you.

Not that being a member of the eunuch class meant a completely unfulfilled life. Michael I’s no-longer-a-man son Niketas went on to become Patriarch of Constantinople and later was canonized as St. Ignatius. But not the one you’re thinking of. There’s about a dozen saints named Ignatius and all but one still had his saintly jewels attached. And for some strange reason the one sans testicles never made it to the big time and never became a patron saint of anything. Though you’d think he would have been a shoe-in for patron saint of losers.

But back to our tale. Leo V, much like Republican politicians of today, wanted the support of the religious right. Sucking up to the religious powers that be, he kneeled before an icon of Christ, thereby assuring everyone of his orthodoxy and strong faith in religious imagery. But it wasn’t long before he showed his true colors, as well as his membership in the Tea Party, and initiated the second period of Byzantine Iconoclasm, banning all forms of religious imagery as blasphemy and proving he could out conservative the conservatives. His move to the far right lead to revolts by iconodules (supporters of icon worship) throughout the empire. And it also lead to one of his most trusted generals, Michael the Amorian, conspiring to dethrone him. So Leo V threw the Amorian’s ass in jail. In hindsight, he probably should have had him castrated too.

On Christmas Day, Leo V was attending church services when a group of assassins disguised as monks suddenly threw off their robes and drew their weapons. In the dim light they mistook the officiating priest for the Emperor and the confusion allowed Leo, unarmed and alone, to defend himself with an incense burner in one hand and a large wooden cross in the other. Neither of which, when it comes to weaponry, really cuts it. Leo called for his guards, but the conspirators had barred the doors and within a few moments a sword stroke had severed his arm; he fell before the communion-table, where his body was hewed in pieces.

Leo’s remains were dumped unceremoniously in the snow and the assassins hurried to the dungeons to free Michael the Amorian, soon to be known as Michael II. Unfortunately for them, Leo had hidden the key on his person, and who wants to sort through bits of body pieces looking for a key? Since it was too early in the morning to find a blacksmith, Michael was hastily crowned as Emperor with his iron manacles still around his legs.

Taking a page from his recently departed predecessor’s playbook, Michael II immediately decided to deck the halls with Leo’s four son’s balls, had them all castrated and botched the job on Theodosios so badly that he died from his gender-reassignment procedure. Which has got to be one of the more embarrassing causes of death to have entered on your death certificate. And that my friends – now that we have a firm tie-in with Christmas – is the first mention of balls of historic proportions at Christmas.

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