Date: Fri, 19 Dec 1997 14:11:20 -0800 > A Christmas poem > > 'Twas the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck... > How to live in a world that's politically correct? > His workers no longer would answer to "Elves". > "Vertically Challenged" they were calling themselves. > And labor conditions at the north pole > Were alleged by the union to stifle the soul. > > Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety, > Released to the wilds by the Humane Society. > And equal employment had made it quite clear > That Santa had better not use just reindeer. > So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid, > Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid! > > The runners had been removed from his sleigh; > The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A. > And people had started to call for the cops > When they heard sled noises on their roof-tops. > Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened. > His fur trimmed red suit was called "Unenlightened." > > And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows, > Rudolf was suing over unauthorized use of his nose > And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation, > Demanding millions in over-due compensation. > > So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife, > Who suddenly said she'd enough of this life, > Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz, > Demanding from now on her title was Ms. > > And as for the gifts, why, he'd ne'er had a notion > That making a choice could cause so much commotion. > Nothing of leather, nothing of fur, > Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her. > Nothing that might be construed to pollute. > Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot. > Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise. > Nothing for just girls. Or just for the boys. > Nothing that claimed to be gender specific. > Nothing that's warlike or non-pacific. > > No candy or sweets...they were bad for the tooth. > Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth. > And fairly tales, while not yet forbidden, > Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden. > For they raised the hackles of those psychological > Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological. > > No baseball, no football...someone could get hurt; > Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt. > Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe; > And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away. > > So Santa just stood there, disheveled, perplexed; > He just could not figure out what to do next. > He tried to be merry, tried to be gay, > But you've got to be careful with that word today. > His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground; > Nothing fully acceptable was to be found. > > Something special was needed, a gift that he might > Give to all without angering the left or the right. > A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision, > Each group of people, every religion; > Every ethnicity, every hue, > Everyone, everywhere...even you. > So here is that gift, it's price beyond worth... > "May you and your loved ones enjoy peace on earth." > > > Date: Mon, 16 Dec 1996 14:56:01 -0800 Stephanos Bacon wrote: [forwards removed] 'Twas the night before solstice and all through the co-op Not a creature was messing the calm status quo up. The children were nestled all snug in their beds, Dreaming of lentils and warm whole-grain breads. We'd welcomed the winter that day after school By dancing and drumming and burning the Yule, A more meaningful gesture to honor the planet Than buying more trinkets for Mom or Aunt Janet, Or choosing a tree just to murder and stump it And deck it all out like a seasonal strumpet. My lifemate and I, having turned down the heat, Slipped under the covers for some well-deserved sleep, When from out on the lawn there came such a roar I slipped from my futon and rolled to the floor. I crawled to the window and pulled back the latch, And muttered, "Aw, where is that Neighborhood Watch?" I saw there below through the murk of the night A sleigh and eight reindeer, challenged of height. At the reins of that sleigh sat a mean-hearted knave Who treated each deer like some personal slave. I'd seen him before in some ads for car loans, Plus fast food, soft drinks and cellular car phones. He must have cashed in from these mercantile chores, Since self-satisfaction just oozed from his pores. He called each by name, as if 'twere his right To treat them like chattel enhancing his might: "Now Donner, now Blitzen," and other such aliases, Showing his true Eurocentrical biases. With a snap of his fingers away they all flew, Like Democrats served up brie or tofu. Up to the rooftop they carried the sleigh (The damage to my shingles is there to this day). Out bounded the man, who went straight to the flue. I knew in an instant just what I should do. After donning my slippers, downstairs did I dash To see this trespasser emerge from the ash. His clothes were all covered with soot, well of course, >From our wood-fueled alternative energy source. Through the grime I distinguished the make of his duds-- He was trimmed all in fur, fairly dripping with blood! "We're a cruelty-free house!" I proclaimed with such heat He was startled and tripped on the logs at his feet. He stood back up dazed, but with mirth in his eyes. It was then that I noticed his unhealthy size. He was almost as wide as when standing erect, A lover of fatty fried foods, I suspect. But that wasn't all to make sane persons choke: In his teeth sat a pipe that was belching out smoke! I could scarcely believe what had invaded our house-- This carcinogenic and overweight louse Was so red in the face from his energy spent, I expected a coronary right there and then. Behind him he toted a red velvet bag Full to exploding with sinister swag. He asked, "Where is your tree?" with a face somewhat long. I said, "Out in the yard, which is where it belongs." "But where will I put all the presents I've brought?" I looked at him squarely and said, "Take the whole lot "To some frivolous people who think that they need To succumb to the sickness of commerce and greed, "Whose only joy comes from the act of consuming, Thus sending the value of retail stocks booming." He blinked and said, "Ho, ho, ho! But you're kidding." I gave him a stare that was stern and forbidding. "Surely children need something with which to have fun? Or it's like childhood's over before it's begun." He looked in my eyes for some sign of assent, But I strengthened my will and refused to relent. "They have plenty of fun," I cut to the gist, "And your mindless distractions have never been missed. "They take CPR so that they can save lives, "They recycle, renew, reuse and reveal For saving the planet a laudable zeal. "When they padlock themselves to a fence to protest Against nuclear power, we think they're the best." He said, "But they're children--lo, when do they play?" I countered, "Is that why you've come in your sleigh, "To bring joy to the hearts of each child and tot? All right, open your bag; let's see what you've got." He sheepishly did as I'd asked and behold! A Malibu Barbie in a skirt of gold. "You think that my girls will like playing with this, An icon of sexist, consumerist kitsch? "With its unnat'ral figure and airheaded grin, This trollop makes every girl yearn to be thin, "And take up fad diets, bingeing and purging Instead of respecting her own body's urging "To welcome the shape that her body has found And rejoice to be lanky, short, skinny or round." Deep from his satchel he produced up a toy, Saying, "This is a hit with most every boy." And what did he put in my trembling hand But a gun from the BrainBlaster Power Command! "It's a 'hit,' to be sure," I sneered in his face, "And a plague and a pox on the whole human race! "How 'bout grenades or some working bazookas To turn all of our kids into half-wit palookas?" I seized on his bag just to see for myself The filth being spread by this odious elf. An Easy-Bake Oven--ah, goddess, what perfidy! To hoodwink young girls into household captivity! Plus an archer play set with shafts that fly out, The very thing to put a child's eye out. And toy metal tractors, steam shovels and cranes For destroying woodlands and scarring the plains, Plus "games" like Monop'ly, Pay Day, Tycoon, As if lessons in greed can't start up too soon. And even more weapons from BrainBlasters Co., Like cannons and nunchucks and ray guns that glow. That's all I could find in his red velvet sack-- Perverseness and mayhem to set us all back. "We need none of this," I announced in a huff, "No 'business-as-usual' holiday stuff. "We sow in our offspring more virtue than this. Your goods are things that they'll never miss." The big man's expression was a trifle bereaved As he shouldered his pack and got ready to leave. "I pity the kids who grow up around here, Who're never permitted to be of good cheer, "Who aren't allowed leisure for leisure's own sake, But must fret every minute--it makes my heart ache!" "Enough histrionics! Don't pity our kids If they don't do as Macy's or Toys 'R' Us bids. "They live by their principles first and foremost And know what's important," to him I did boast. "Pray, could I meet them?" "Oh no, they're not here. By now, they're on the roof, liberating your deer!" At that Santa sputtered and pointed his finger But, mad as he was, he had no time to linger. He flew up the chimney like smoke from a fire, And up on the roof I heard voices get higher. I ran outside the co-op to see him react To my children's responsible, kindhearted act. He chased them away, and disheartened, dismayed, He rehitched his reindeer (who'd docilely stayed). I watched with delight as he scooted off then; He'd be too embarrassed to come back again. But with parting disdain, do you know what he said, This overweight huckster when he took off in his sled? This reindeer enslaver, this exploiter of elves? "Happy Christmas to all, but get over yourselves!!" by James Finn Garner