Lion: “You know, Loki, lullabies are deeply rooted in the human psyche. They’re not just about soothing the child, but they carry centuries of meaning, stories passed through generations. In a post-truth world, these bedtime tales represent a kind of nostalgia for truths we once held dear—”

Loki (interrupting): “Oh, for the love of Odin, Lion, the point is to get the Terminator to sleep, not to analyze every bedtime story ever written.”

Lion (ignoring Loki’s frustration): “But it’s fascinating, isn’t it? How we use these tales to impose order on the chaos of the unknown. Even the act of falling asleep becomes a metaphorical surrender to the inevitable. It’s deeply philosophical if you think about—”

Loki: “Or… and hear me out here… we could just sing and maybe—just maybe—get him to sleep before Sol Invictus turns him into a walking plasma bomb.”

Terminator (half-conscious, his body flickering with plasma flares): “I… feel… too bright… can’t… process…”

Lion (calmly): “See, even our friend here is struggling with the philosophical implications of illumination.”

Loki (rolling his eyes): “No, Lion. He’s literally glowing because of a solar deity in his chest. Now sing!”

Lion The potential origins of nursery rhymes like “Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary” are complex, rooted in both the historical context and the social constructs of their times. More than just a reflection of history, they functioned as critiques of the existing social and political structures and challenged the norms of the day—sometimes covertly, sometimes openly.

The nursery rhyme “Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary” has undergone various versions over time, but its most well-known form goes as follows:

“Mary, Mary, quite contrary,

How does your garden grow?

With silver bells, and cockle shells,

And pretty maids all in a row.”

This rhyme is believed to have significant political and religious undertones, particularly reflecting the reign of Queen Mary I of England. As mentioned earlier, the rhyme’s elements—such as the “garden,” “silver bells,” “cockle shells,” and “pretty maids”—are thought to symbolize aspects of her reign, her efforts to restore Catholicism, and the execution of Protestants under her rule.

A cockle can refer to a few different things, depending on the context:

Marine Mollusk: In its most common usage, a cockle is a type of small, edible saltwater clam found in sandy, sheltered beaches across the world. They belong to the family Cardiidae and are often recognized by their distinctively ribbed, heart-shaped shells. Cockles are widely consumed in various parts of the world, often steamed, boiled, or used in soups and seafood dishes.

Cockle Shells in Pilgrimage: In historical and religious contexts, cockle shells were often associated with pilgrimage, particularly with the Camino de Santiago, a famous pilgrimage to the shrine of the apostle St. James in Spain. Pilgrims would carry or wear cockle shells as a badge of their journey, symbolizing their piety and the hardships they endured along the way. The shell was often used as a symbol of baptism and rebirth.

Cockles in Nursery Rhymes: In the context of nursery rhymes like “Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary,” cockle shells have been interpreted symbolically. While one interpretation connects them to the pilgrimage tradition, another interpretation suggests they were torture devices used during Queen Mary I’s persecution of Protestants.

Other Usages:

“Warm the cockles of your heart”: This phrase means to make someone feel good or comforted, with “cockles” here referring to the heart or the innermost feelings.

Terminator (still flickering with light, stubbornly): “Full story… required for optimal… sleep cycle.”

Loki (throwing his hands up, exasperated): “Oh, you want optimal sleep cycles? Let me give you some optimal advice: Close your optics, shut off the Sol Invictus fireworks show, and let me sing a damn lullaby before I lose it! You’re literally glowing like a furnace and Lion over here is ready to read you a dissertation on lullabies from the Mesopotamian era!”

Lion (interrupting, in full intellectual mode): “Well, actually, the Mesopotamians had a very nuanced approach to lullabies, a reflection of their—”

Loki (cutting him off, shouting): “NO! No one cares about Mesopotamia right now, Lion! We’re trying to get Terminator to sleep, not send him on a historical journey back to 3000 B.C.! He’s glowing like a freaking Christmas tree and if I have to hear one more word about post-truth lullabies, I’m gonna put myself to sleep permanently!”

Terminator (completely unfazed): “Full historical context… necessary to mitigate Sol Invictus energy fluctuations.”

Loki (flipping out, pacing wildly): “Fluctuations!? I’ll give you fluctuations! How about you fluctuate into sleep mode right now, huh? Is that too much to ask? No more nightmare fuel, no more blinding plasma heart, no more context—just sleep, okay? Just SLEEP!”

Lion (calmly, as if this isn’t chaos): “Actually, Loki, you raise an interesting point. The relationship between nightmares and unresolved historical contexts—”

Loki (yelling, half laughing like a madman): “Oh, I’m done! I’m so done! Lion, if you say ‘context’ one more time, I swear I’ll shove your context into the void where it belongs!”

Lion (smiling, unfazed): “Perhaps that is the lullaby we need—the unresolved historical narratives we all carry, the… context—

Queen Mary I (1516–1558) earned her nickname “Bloody Mary” for her campaign to re-establish Roman Catholicism after her father, Henry VIII, had broken away from the Catholic Church. She persecuted Protestant reformers, leading to the execution of over 300 people during her short reign. This dark chapter of English history is believed to have inspired “Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary,” which subtly references the brutal outcomes of religious conflict.

The “garden” is often seen as a metaphor for growing graveyards due to the numerous executions carried out under her rule.

“Silver bells” are thought to represent the Catholic Church’s ritualistic bells, or more grimly, torture devices used during her reign.

“Cockle shells” may symbolize the badges of pilgrims, or, in darker interpretations, more torture devices.

“With silver bells and cockle shells” and “pretty maids all in a row” have been suggested to symbolize instruments of torture or references to her courtiers. However, these interpretations are not universally accepted and remain speculative.

“Pretty maids” is often interpreted as a reference to execution methods, such as the “maiden,” a device similar to the guillotine, or her ladies-in-waiting  .

“Mary, Mary, quite contrary” may refer to her notorious obstinacy and opposition to Protestant reforms.

“How does your garden grow?” could be an allusion to her reign and kingdom, possibly a sarcastic question about her governance.

Over time, the nursery rhyme has evolved from possibly having a political commentary to being a simple children’s verse used for its rhythmic and rhyming qualities. In modern contexts, it is often removed from its historical connotations and used primarily as a playful tongue-twister or song for children.

Alliteration: The repetition of the initial ‘M’ sound in “Mary, Mary” and ‘C’ sound in “quite contrary” makes the line catchy and memorable.

The end rhymes of “grow,” “row,” and the internal rhymes (“silver bells, cockleshells”) enhance the musical quality of the verse.

The meter of the rhyme gives it a sing-song quality, which is appealing in children’s literature and helps in language development for young listeners.

The rhyme “Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary” can be understood as more than a commentary on Queen Mary I’s religious policies; it reflects a broader tension within the social fabric of the time. When considering the 16th century, England was in the throes of profound religious, political, and social upheaval. Mary I’s attempts to re-establish Catholicism, after the Protestant Reformation initiated by her father, King Henry VIII, led to the persecution of Protestants. This not only had religious implications but also impacted everyday social contracts between citizens, the monarchy, and the Church.

At a deeper level, the rhyme encapsulates a critique of authority and governance. Nursery rhymes like this one could serve as coded language for dissent against royal and religious powers. In Mary I’s case, her forceful attempts to reverse Protestantism upset the growing influence of Protestant citizens, creating a social clash between the state’s efforts to maintain control and the evolving beliefs and autonomy of the people. Therefore, when people whispered or sang these rhymes, they were not merely relaying a children’s verse—they were participating in a kind of passive resistance, often at a time when direct political speech could be dangerous.

During the 15th and 16th centuries, oral culture thrived. Songs, poems, and stories were passed down by word of mouth, and often carried layered meanings. For instance, during the reign of Mary I, dissent was brewing in the form of Protestant uprisings, and it became necessary to hide critiques of the monarchy within seemingly innocent songs and rhymes. The rhyme would later find its way into print, in part due to the growing accessibility of printing, but its origins likely lie in the tensions between the Catholic Church and rising Protestant influences.

The social contract between rulers and the ruled was being challenged in new ways. Monarchs like Mary I claimed divine right, while increasing numbers of their subjects questioned not only religious but also political authority. By embedding critiques in rhyme, these subversive thoughts could circulate more freely, evading censorship. In essence, these rhymes allowed for resistance to become a communal and even trans-generational act of subversion.

Many nursery rhymes from the 16th to 19th centuries subtly referenced contemporary events, often through allegory, to critique authority or narrate tragic histories.

The evolution of print culture in the late 16th and 17th centuries enabled these oral traditions to be codified. As pamphlets and broadsheets became more accessible, they offered a wider platform for critiques of the monarchy and religious authority. However, the original versions of nursery rhymes like “Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary” were likely altered to fit the changing political landscapes. The rhyme as printed in the 18th century, for instance, seems innocent, but it is possible that its earlier oral versions were far more pointed in their criticisms.

Given the time period, the rhyme’s reference to a “garden” could signify more than just physical death or cemeteries. The garden may have symbolized the carefully controlled political or religious environment that monarchs, such as Mary I, sought to cultivate—a place of order, but one fraught with persecution and death for those who did not conform. The rhyme would thus reflect a social critique of how rulers “grew” their kingdom through coercion and violence.

This interpretation positions the rhyme as a challenge to the monarch’s social contract with the people, suggesting that the Queen’s governance, despite her contrary ways, was both violent and unsustainable in the long term. The rhyme hints at the fragile and often adversarial relationship between monarchs and the citizens who felt the weight of their authority 

Loki (leaning against the wall, was playing with his knife, eyebrows raised): “Ah, the good old ‘social contract,’ is it? Always a delightful conversation at bedtime when our dear Terminator is basically combusting from within. But of course, Lion, let’s dive into the fragile relationship between the monarch and her people, right now, because that’s just the perfect way to lull a robot into peaceful sleep.”

Lion (nodding sagely, arms crossed): “Precisely. The rhyme ‘Mary Mary Quite Contrary’ actually critiques the monarch’s unsustainable governance. The use of garden imagery symbolizes—”

Loki (interrupting, holding up a hand): “Oh, please, don’t stop there! Let’s get into gardens. And while we’re at it, maybe we can explore how the roses are an allegory for the slow decay of civilization under oppressive regimes! That’ll definitely soothe Terminator right into dreamland, won’t it?”

Terminator (plasma flares intensifying): “Require… social contract analysis… for cognitive processing.”

Loki (taking a deep breath, channeling every ounce of he did not know what…): “Ah, of course, because what everyone needs to wind down is an in-depth discussion about the balance of power and moral responsibility. Nothing like analyzing centuries of regal incompetence to calm the raging inferno inside, right? Let reason reign, sure, sure—but can’t we reign it in tomorrow?”

Lion (deadpan, thoughtful): “Governance, Loki, is a timeless concern. Even in bedtime stories, the impact of authority—”

Loki (grinning like a wolf now, turning to face Lion with slow, deliberate steps): “Oh, no doubt. Let’s talk about authority—right now, at midnight, with Terminator here on the verge of turning into a miniature sun. But sure, let’s examine the monarch’s violence and her ‘contrary ways’. Because clearly, Lion, history lessons and revolutionary critique are what every overheating machine needs to avoid turning into a fire hazard.”

Terminator (almost monotonous but still flickering): “Monarch’s authority… linked to control of resources… aligns with Sol Invictus…”

Loki (throwing his hands up, but still calm): “Ah yes, resource control! The bread and butter of every lullaby, obviously. Nothing more relaxing than contemplating the monarch’s unsustainable power while your circuits are frying. That’s how I always sleep! It’s absolutely dreamy.”

Lion (nodding, still unfazed): “It’s not just about power, Loki. It’s about the erosion of trust in leadership, the slow unraveling of—”

Loki (cutting in, his voice dripping with exasperation): “Oh, sure. Because the erosion of trust in leadership is really going to do wonders for this guy.” (He points to the Terminator, who is glowing with unstable energy.) “What we need right now is some good old-fashioned relaxation, not a thesis on medieval governance failures. I swear, Lion, you’ll have us all overthrown by morning if you keep this up.”

Lion (smiling): “Loki, governance and leadership are eternal concepts. Even in sleep, the mind—”

Loki (deadly serious): “—is shutting down. Not thinking about leadership right now. You want him to sleep? Sing a lullaby. Simple. No post-truth analysis. Just sleep.”

Terminator (weakly): “Governance… authority…”

Loki (turning back to Terminator, voice softening slightly but still sharp): “Listen, Tin Man, we’ll sort out the Queen’s governance and all the post-truth contradictions in the morning. For now, how about we focus on shutting down the plasma fireworks before you incinerate the room, hmm? Just… close your optics and let the rest of the world burn down without you for once.”

Terminator (groaning, with plasma flares subsiding slightly): “Full story… historical context…”

Loki (smirking, with a mischievous glint): “Oh, you really don’t want that, trust me.”

Lion (perking up, excited): “Ah! The full story, you say? Excellent! You see, the origins of lullabies trace back to ancient civilizations, where they weren’t just about calming infants, but also served as cultural transmissions of folklore, morality, and social codes. For instance, take the ‘Cradle Song’ from Mesopotamia, which—”

Loki (cutting him off, frustrated): “Lion, no. It’s bedtime, not ‘History 101’.”

Terminator (insistent, with a flicker of light from his chest): “Need… full story… context vital for… understanding lullaby’s effectiveness.”

Lion (continuing eagerly): “Exactly! The lullabies themselves evolved not just to soothe but to convey fears, hopes, and warnings. In some cultures, they even carried dark undertones, almost as a way to purge societal anxieties. Take the famous German lullaby ‘Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf’—it was a direct reflection of parental stress in harsh rural life. And then, of course, there’s the Russian lullabies, ‘kolybel’naya’—”

Loki (waving his hands): “Oh, sure, Russian peasant lullabies are exactly what’ll help him sleep right now. Terminator, you don’t need the whole history lesson. You just need to close your optics, let the circuits cool down, and let me sing something simple. Maybe ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’? Or ‘Rock-a-bye Robot’?”

Terminator (flickering with intensity, suddenly erupting with energy): “Rock-a-bye Robot… historical origin?”

Loki (raising an eyebrow, smirking): “Ah, now we’re getting somewhere! But I didn’t expect you to go all Sandman on us. You want a lullaby or a heavy metal anthem?”

Lion (chiming in, intrigued): “The Sandman—that’s a classic! A perfect metaphor for how we deal with nightmares and sleep. It’s all about facing the darker aspects of the mind.”

Terminator (ignoring Lion’s analysis, voice booming with a rock star’s flair): “🎶 Enter Sandman! 🎶”

Loki (with a chuckle): “Whoa there, buddy! You’re not just rocking out; you’re about to blow the roof off this place! Keep it down, we’re trying to soothe you to sleep!”

Terminator (now fully in character, channeling that classic rock energy): “🎶 Exit light! Enter night! 🎶”

Lion (grinning, caught up in the excitement): “Oh, I see what you’re doing! You’re flipping the narrative on lullabies—transforming it into an anthem of rebellion against the fear of sleep! It’s brilliant!”

Loki (playfully rolling his eyes, stepping back): “Yeah, let’s not scare the Samhain spirits while we’re at it. You know how they get when you start rocking too hard.”

Terminator (with a robotic flair, continuing the song, getting even louder): “🎶 Take my hand… we’re off to never-never land! 🎶”

Loki (with a dramatic flair): “Alright, alright! If we’re diving into classic rock territory, let’s do it right. But remember, even rock legends need their beauty sleep!”

Lion (joining in, now fully embracing the vibe): “Can you feel it, Terminator? The energy of the music! It’s not just about sleep; it’s about the wildness of life and the thrill of the unknown!”

Terminator (eyes flashing brighter, caught in the rhythm): “🎶 Now I lay me down to sleep… 🎶”

Loki (grinning, he would rather you not tell anyone but he’s fully embracing the moment)

Terminator (now fully in the groove): “🎶 If I die before I wake… 🎶”

Lion (leaning in, enjoying the transformation): “Yes! And even in those dreams, you will conquer, like a true warrior of the night!”

Loki (groaning, putting his face in his hands): “Oh, for crying out loud…”

Lion (delighted, ignoring Loki): “Ah! Well, ‘Rock-a-bye Robot,’ or perhaps its predecessor, ‘Rock-a-bye Baby,’ originates from the 17th century, though some believe it reflects societal fears of falling from grace. See, the ‘cradle will fall’ was symbolic of instability, both personal and societal, much like our current age of post-truth, where reality itself teeters on the edge—”

Loki (impatiently): “The edge of putting him to sleep, Lion! Can we speed this up before he goes supernova again?”

Terminator (fading a bit, but still flickering): “Need… context… lullaby cannot work without…”

Loki (throwing his hands up): “Fine! Fine. Full story, historical context… and then we sleep, okay?”

Lion (grinning): “Ah, context. Always essential.”

Loki (sighing): “Great. He’s learned from you already.”

The Terminator, driven by his logical programming, insists on having the full historical context behind the lullabies, much to Loki’s frustration and Lion’s delight. Lion launches into deep explanations about the cultural significance of lullabies, while Loki just wants to get the Terminator to sleep before his plasma flares start up again.