Some philosophies about Thanksgiving.

Let's look a little bit into what Thanksgiving means as a holiday.
When it started out, Thanksgiving was more or less established as a holiday by English pilgrims to the new world (mainly Quakers) seeking to plant a free state of their Protestant religious denomination the way they couldn't in the old country, and they started a festival of eating good food, in communion with the American Indians with whom they established a healthy rapport, as a way of expressing gratitude toward God for all that they had been granted.
Such a way of expressing gratitude should be remembered in Thanksgiving today.  The name of the holiday implies it; we may deny it, at least most of us, but we have a lot we can use by which to live today for which we should be thankful.  Look at all the modern technology we can employ to further our cause if we just put our minds to learning how to use it.  And look at the concept of democracy so many people, sadly, are choosing en masse to ignore in America.  We should not only be thankful for that, we should be reaching out collectively and taking a firm grip on it.  We can't just let our power-mad leaders run everything.
In my own case, I'm thankful—and people cannot convince me otherwise—for the loved ones I have that see me through life.  I'm also thankful my original status of publication as a fiction writer occurred, even though it may not have lasted.  And I'm thankful I at least have some friends, even if people are so foul and so dishonest that they will not allow me to say that they are real friends.  What I say is, get a clue.  This is not high school anymore.  These friends are on the same level as me.
Don't get me wrong.  I can't let my troubles get to me.  I'm thankful also for the blessings I have, and there are many that I recognize.  A home, financial security, people who know and trust me, lots of material possessions that I can use.  Many people don't have any of these things.
I'll close out by looking at the culinary aspects of Thanksgiving, just to lighten the tone a little: eating the aforementioned good food is an irrevocable staple of it, and I know an awful lot of us look forward to pumpkin pie as the universal dessert.  Sure, I dig that.  And for the turkey, I'm personally more inclined toward the dark meat.  The bird is the word.
Happy Thanksgiving, yawl.

On a Monty Python favorite.

One of my all-time favorite Monty Python bits, from their "Flying Circus" TV show on the BBC, is the "Awful Visitors" sketch.
It starts out touching, granted.  Victor and Iris are well into a quiet, romantic evening of drinks at Victor's home.  After so many months working together in the soft-toy department, they're at last building a relationship that could turn into something very special.  The lights are low, the music is gentle and moving.
But then the loud-talking Arthur Name shows up ("Name by name but not by nature"), who insists Victor and he met at the pub recently.  Victor doesn't know why this man would invite himself over at a time like this; he hardly even knows him.  Arthur Name turns up the lights, replaces the moving music with "The Stars And Stripes Forever," and reacquaints himself with Victor (so he hopes) with a little joke he heard down at the pub:
"What's brown and sounds like a bell?  Dung!  Ha ha, good one, eh?"
Before either Victor or Iris know it, Arthur has invited over as well a big gaggle of dysfunctional humps and creeps.  The next to rear their...um...interesting heads are big, overstuffed Mr. Equator and his homely wife.
"The name's Equator, Brian Equator.  Like round the middle of the earth, only with an 'L.' Bwa, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...This is my wife Audrey, she smells a bit but she has a heart of gold.  Bwa, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha..."
Then the doorbell sounds again.  "Who the hell's that?!" yells Victor.  He's sorry he asked; it's Mr. Freight, in underpants, cape, eye makeup, gloves, boots and cigarette holder, all sparkly purple and silver.  "Oh my, what a simply gawstly place." Mr. Equator reacquaints himself: "Arthur, cremm de men-thee for my friend.  How are you, you great poof."
(Remember that this was from a time when certain lifestyles were still largely mocked in Europe.  Bear with me, please.)
"I found this simply chawming little man outside the Odeon," says Freight.  He's the next guest: a shabby, retching little sicko who says he's brought over a goat.  "He's been feeling a bit sick.  I only hope he don't go on the carpet."
In the process, among other things, Mr. Equator sits on the cat, sexually harasses Iris twice, and when he sits down so hard in a chair that it collapses, Mrs. Equator is set laughing and laughing, until: "Ooh.  I wet 'em."
At about that time, Mr. Freight's shabby lover announces: "The goat's just done a bundle."
Finally, when a huge bunch of Welsh miners are allowed in, Victor can't take anymore: "Look, get out, all of you, get out!!  Go on, get out!"
Mr. Equator: "I beg your pardon?"
Victor: "I'm turning you all out.  I'm not having my house filled with filthy perverts, now look, I'm going to give you all just half a minute, and then I'm going to call the police.  So get out, all of you!!!"
Mr. Equator's response is simple.  "I don't much like the tone of your voice." And he draws a gun and shoots Victor.  It all ends with the whole bunch (minus Victor, of course, and Iris) singing "Ding-Dong Merrily On High."
I love that sketch.

Loved "Bohemian Rhapsody."

I just saw "Bohemian Rhapsody," that new movie about the band Queen, and loved it.  Really stylishly done.  It even gave me a few laughs.  It ought to be up for Best Picture next spring.
"Bohemian Rhapsody" starts out with a guy (We can already tell it's Freddie Mercury in his later years) getting geared up for this big concert.  Then we flash back to when the band was just starting out, and Freddie (then with his original surname) joins them; likewise, they have a different name themselves.  From there, they rise to stardom, and it's all well done, and very rockin' in many places.  Plus, we get the gist of how the full three weeks (yes, that's right!) it took Queen to record the song of the movie's namesake may or may not have paid off among rock critics, but it still proved a classic.
The performances are remarkable; I didn't exactly catch the lead actor's name, but he's like Freddie reincarnated, almost.  The music of Queen lines the film like properly chosen wall-to-wall carpeting, sometimes even poignantly so, as when "Who Wants To Live Forever" is played when Freddie first has to come to grips with being HIV-positive.
It was directed by Bryan Singer, now a master filmmaker since "The Usual Suspects" and many of his "X-Men" adventures in cinema.  He does it all fantastically, even chronicling Freddie Mercury's relationship (and fleeting marriage) to this young lady to whom we get the idea he's sadly dishonest, in particular concerning his true lifestyle.  Then there's one or two men in Freddie's life that help him along with love that way, but...ah, why give it all away?  Just see it for yourselves.  Even with all I've so far said, it's worth it just for the musical experience.  It's almost like a time-warp concert, that way.  They Will Rock You.  And still, They Are The Champions.