A Politically Correct Holiday 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 fairy 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."
**********************************************************************
********The 12 Days, Deconstructed*******************
On the 12th day of the Eurocentrically imposed midwinter festival, my
potential-acquaintance-rape-survivor gave to me,
TWELVE males reclaiming their inner warrior through ritual drumming.
ELEVEN pipers piping (plus the 18-member pit orchestra made up of members
in good standing of the Musicians Equity Union as called for in their union
contract even though they will not be asked to play a note...)
TEN melanin-deprived testosterone-poisoned scions of the patriarchal ruling
class system leaping,
NINE persons engaged in rhythmic self-expression,
EIGHT economically disadvantaged female persons stealing milk-products from
enslaved Bovine-Americans,
SEVEN endangered swans swimming on federally protected wetlands,
SIX enslaved fowl-Americans producing stolen nonhuman animal products,
FIVE golden symbols of culturally sanctioned enforced domestic incarceration,
(NOTE: after member of the Animal Liberation Front threatened to throw
red paint at my computer, the calling birds, French hens and partridge
have been reintroduced to their native habitat. To avoid further
animal-American enslavement, the remaining gift package has been revised.)
FOUR hours of recorded whale songs,
THREE deconstructionist poets,
TWO Sierra Club calendars printed on recycled processed tree carcasses
and a Spotted Owl activist chained to an old-growth pear tree.
*****************************************************************
After much research we present the annual aeronautical engineers report
on the theory of Santa.
1) No known species of reindeer can fly. BUT there are 300,000
species of living organisms yet to be classified, and while most of
these are insects and germs, this does not COMPLETELY rule out flying
reindeer which only Santa has ever seen.
2) There are 2 billion children (persons under 18) in the world. BUT
since Santa doesn't (appear) to handle the Muslim, Hindu, Jewish &
Buddhist children, that reduces the workload to 15% of the total -378
million according to Population Reference Bureau. At an average
(census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that's 91.8 million homes.
One presumes that there's at least one good child in each.
3) Santa has 31 hours of Christmas to work with.This is due to the
different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming he travels
east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 822.6
visits/second.
That is to say that for each Christian household with good children,
Santa has .001 second to park, hop out of the sleigh, jump down the
chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under
the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left, get back up the chimney,
get back into the sleigh and move on to the next house.
Assuming that each of these 91.8 million stops are evenly distributed
around the earth (which, of course, we know to be false but for the
purposes of our calculations we will accept), we are now talking about
.78 miles/household, a total trip of 75.5 million miles; not counting
stops to do what most of us do at lease once every 31 hours, plus
eating etc.
So Santa's sleigh must be moving at 650 miles/second, 3,000 times the
speed of sound. For purposes of comparison, the fastest man-made
vehicle on earth, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a pokey 27.4
miles/second. A conventional reindeer can run, tops, 15 miles/hour.
4) The payload on the sleigh adds another interesting element.
Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium-sized lego set
(2 lb), the sleigh is carrying 321,300 tons, not counting Santa, who is
invariably described as overweight. On land, conventional reindeer can
pull no more than 300lb. Even granting that "flying reindeer" (see #1)
can pull 10 TIMES the normal amount, we cannot do the job with 8, or
even 9, reindeer. We need 214,200.
This increases the payload - not counting the weight of the sleigh - to
353,430 tons. This is four times the weight of the ocean-liner Queen
Elizabeth.
5) 353,000 tons traveling at 650 miles/second creates enormous air
resistance. This will heat the reindeer up in the same fashion as a
spacecraft reentering the earth's atmosphere. The lead pair of
reindeer will absorb 14.3 QUINTILLION joules of energy. Per second.
Each. In short, they will burst into flame almost instantaneously,
exposing the reindeer behind them and create deafening sonic booms in
their wake. The entire reindeer team will be vaporized within .00426
of a second.
Meanwhile, Santa, will be subjected to centrifugal forces 17,500.06
times greater than gravity. A 250 lb. Santa, being very conservative
in terms of guessing Santas weight, would be pinned to the back of his
sleigh by 4,315,015 lb. of force.
If Santa ever DID deliver presents on Christmas Eve, he's dead now.
A Merry Christmas to one and all!!
***********************************************************
THE GINGRINCH THAT STOLE CONGRESS
(With apologies to Dr. Seuss)
Every Rep down in Congress liked Clinton somewhat,
Except for the Gingrinch, who simply did NOT!
He hated Bill Clinton! He hated his wife!
He vowed to torment them the rest of his life!
The Ging hated anyone left of the Huns,
He hated the wusses who didn't like guns.
He hated the teachers who wouldn't lead prayers,
He hated the people who'd tax millionaires!
He hated "McGoverniks" whining 'bout rights,
Like equal protection for gays and nonwhites.
He hated the folks who said "Nicotine kills"
And vowed he would pass more pro-nicotine bills.
He hated the folks who said "Women need choice"
And vowed to give middle-aged males more voice.
But he hated the people on welfare much more;
He hated the way they were POOR POOR POOR!
He hated the way they had no jobs at all,
This struck him as heaploads of GALL GALL GALL!
They also lacked training and day care. So what?
The Gingrinch announced he'd come up with a plot:
"Get off of Welfare! Get off today!
Or we will take all of your children AWAY!"
Now, no one knew what made the Ging such a meanie:
It could be because he had a small weenie.
It could be because he had Donahue hair,
Or maybe because not much lurked under there.
But probably what most explained the man's life
Was the fact he abandoned his children and wife.
Yes, 'way down in Georgia, his wife lay near dead
Sickened with cancer, in a hospital bed.
He crept in to see her (they let him, of course)
And whispered, quite sweetly, "I want a divorce!"
He whipped out his pencil with something like zeal
And got down to work on his alimony deal.
And while she was whimp'ring he said, "By the way,
I'm leaving for somebody younger - hooray!"
The Gingrinch's heart shrank two sizes that night.
And that could be what makes him so Christian Right.
Now, the night before Congress the Ging hatched his plans:
>From now on he'd speak for, quote, "Normal Americans."
Tax-slashers! That's what those "Normal" folks love!
He'd take to the skies and dismantle the gov!
He jumped out of bed and he summoned his pet:
A doberman pinscher who once killed a vet.
George was his name (as in Wallace, not Bush);
Boy!" said the Gingrinch, "We're gonna whip tush!"
They flew to a soup kitchen, filled with sad "bums,"
Snatched up the kettle and stole all the crumbs.
They flew to a basketball game late at night
And shooed the kids out, to the dealers' delight.
They unplugged mass transit and cried "Buy a car!"
Then chopped down a forest and chomped a cigar.
What bliss! What fun! What downright glee!
What joy! What yuks! What great TV!
The next day the Gingrinch sat high above view
And looked down on Congress (as many folks do).
He wanted to relish the joy and the cheer
Of folks waking up to their first tax-free year.
He waited and waited and waited some more;
He waited to hear them cry "Newt! Take the floor!"
He waited for kudos and champagne free-flowing,
He waited for trumpets on high to start blowing.
But instead of rejoicing and hoopla, etcet,
He heard a strange rumble that made his palms sweat.
The people weren't happy, not happy at all!
They ringed 'round the Statehouse! They filled up the hall!
They groused and they grumbled and cried, "We're real mad!
We want all those costly old programs we had!
Give back our givebacks! Give back our pork!
Give back the stuff you walked off with, you dork!"
And the Gingrinch sat simply quite stunned at the sight
Of Normal Americans, not left and not right.
They wanted clean air and they wanted green trees,
They wanted full coverage for medical fees,
They wanted nice schools and streets safe to play,
They wanted it all - they just didn't want to pay!
And when the truth hit him, the Ging grinned a grin,
He laughed and he laughed till the tears ran down his chin.
The Clintons climbed up to the Dome, laughing too.
"Hee hee hee," Bill and Hill laughed, "Hoo hoo hoo!"
They laughed with the cheer that comes from within,
They laughed with the knowledge: You just cannot win.
The Gingrinch and Clintons now shared the same plight
Whatever they'd do, they could not do it right.
"Folks hate you," said Bill, "once you land in D.C.
But I've got a plan: Let us bond, you and me.
We'll work as a team, yes! That's my advice!
We'll listen and nod and make NICE NICE NICE!"
The Prez put his hand out, they hugged on the ledge...
And then that old Gingrinch pushed Bill off the edge.
*****************************************************************
Three men didn't have a Christmas party to go to so they walked down the
street and found what looked liked a good time. There was a gate keeper at the
front gate and told them that they must have something to do with christmas to
enter this party.
The first fella searched his pockets and found a small bible, so the gate
keeper let him in.
The second person couldn't find any thing in his pockets but on his shoulder
he found a small branch and said "Here this is a miniture Christmas tree".
O.K. you can enter said the gate keeper
The third bloke searched everywhere and couldn't find anything to do with
Christmas. Pulling out the only thing in his pocket which was his girlfriend's
undies he held them up. The gate keeper said "that has nothing to do with
Christmas". The reply was "Yes it is, these are carols!"
The computer service technician received a call from a secretary
complaining that the floppy drive in her computer wouldn't work. He went
down to check it out and found that she was putting the discs in WITH the
plastic dust sleeves still on them. He asked her why on earth she was doing
that and she said, "Well, I didn't want my computer to get a virus."
The Joy of Teaching
Then Jesus took his disciples up to the mountain and gathered them around
him, he taught them saying, "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs
is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are the meek. Blessed are they that
mourn. Blessed are you when you suffer. Be glad and rejoice, for your
reward is great in heaven."
Then Simon Peter said, "Are we supposed to know this?"
And Andrew said, "Will we have a test on this?"
And Philip said, "I don't have any paper."
And Bartholomew said, "Do we have to turn this in?"
And John said, "The other disciples didn't have to learn this."
And Matthew said, "May I go to the bathroom?"
Then one of the Pharisees who was present asked to see Jesus' lesson
plan and inquired of Jesus, "Where are your objectives and your
required competencies in the cognitive domain?"
Jesus wept.
|