Last night, as most Saturdays are, was very quiet past 7pm. As I perused the front of store tables, a particular book caught my eye, and I immediately opened it to page 19.

Now, look, you may not know this about me — I was raised Catholic, and attended a Catholic school until the 7th grade. Every Christmas, we’d put on a performance for all the parents, singing traditional Christian Christmas songs. Not the fluffy stuff, y’know? No Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer. Instead, stuff like Oh Come All Ye Faithful, The Little Drummer Boy, Silent Night, etcetra.

For some reason, we also did Battle Hymn of the Republic. Don’t know why, but damn if I don’t love that song.

Anyway, the point of all of this is that I love some traditional, religious, Christmas music, and my favorite Christmas song of forever, is Good King Wenceslas. So I picked up this book that caught my eye, flipped it open to page 19 and read the lyrics to Good King Wenceslas Tastes Great, the first stanza of which is presented below (just hum along):

Good King Wenceslas tastes great;
We might as well eat Stephen,
When the brains lay round about,
Toasted crisp and bleedin’.
Brightly shown the moon that night,
Thought the virus cruel.
When a poor man came in sight,
He made fine undead fuel.

It might amuse you to picture me singing this song — out loud — at work. A few customers applauded my efforts. Most of my coworkers told me to knock it off. But me?

I want to find some people who are willing to conduct a social experiment.

If a group of us were to go about the town, singing Christmas Zombie carols, how many people would pay enough attention to the lyrics to realize we were singing Have Yourself a Medulla Oblongata, not Have a Merry Little Christmas?