Let’s stick around.
Happy New Year. This is Sea Gabriel with mythic deviant. And today I'm going to do a new year's story because it seems appropriate. The matchstick girl, the matchstick girl is more of a fairy tale than a myth, but it's still foundational and illuminating in our culture. Particularly right now, she's actually called the little match to girl. You have to pay attention when things say little in the title, if it's not ironic, generally indicates that they will never be big. And now the story. Once upon a time, there was a little girl who was sent out on new year's Eve to sell matchsticks. She tried to sell them, but nobody was buying. She was walking barefoot through the snow because she lost her mother's shoes that she had been wearing. One fell off when she was running across the road to get out of the way of traffic. And one was stolen by a boy who wanted to use it as a prop. She was afraid to go home without having made any sales. Cause her father would beat her for having failed, which he did. Besides she thought it's almost as cold there as it is here. Her hands were becoming numb with the cold and she had two bundles of matchsticks. So she let her match warming her hands over the flame. And when she did, she imagined that she was in front of a big warm stove, but when the match went out, the stove vanished. So she lived another Mac and then she could see clearly into the warm room and she could smell the new year's dinner that was roasting in the oven. And she was about to take a bite of the delicious food on the table when the match went out and it all vanished. So she lit another match in a beautiful scene of warmth and candles appeared in the room with a feast and the stove in the background and the light from the candles rose higher and higher into the air until they were stars. And one of them turned into a shooting star and someone is dying. She thought remembering the first time she'd seen a shooting star when her grandmother who loved her more than anyone in the world told her that it was a soul going to heaven. So she struck another match and there was her grandmother, herself holding out her arms and full of love. And she ran to her and she lit match after match igniting the sky until her grandmother gathered her in her arms and flew off with her. And on new year's morning, the sun rose over her frozen corpse, smiling and huddled between two houses. The little match to girls, trying to reach into a past, to find the comfort she once had and the comfort she lost. And right now, a majority of people in the United States at least are trying to reach into the past to find the comfort we once had. And the comfort we lost, some of us are reaching back 50 years and some of us are reaching back five months, but most of us are reaching back. Nonetheless. And it is true. That grandma was awesome, but it's also true that grandma is dead and the only place she can leave us right now is into a grave going home to be beaten. Isn't the solution nor is deluding ourselves with lies about how we can bring the dead back to life. But there are a thousand doors on the street. We didn't try. Or we can face the fact that we'd rather freeze to death than admit we've left ourselves in the cold. Some of those houses have warmth in them. Some of them have fun and many of them have really great food. It may be time to start knocking cause freezing to death between two houses is kind of a stupid way to die.