Al's Christmas Song,
A Politically Correct Christmas,
A Microsoft Christmas,
The Night Before Implementation,
'Twas the nocturnal segment,
A Christmas "Enterprise",
A Stealthy Christmas,
OFFICIAL VISIT OF LTG SANTA CLAUS
The children were plotting all night in their beds
While the wife's constant whining was splitting his head.
But Daddy had money this year in the bank.
Then they closed up early, now Dad's in the tank.
And all of a sudden Santa appeared,
A sneer on his face, booze on his beard.
"Santa", I said as he laughed merrily,
"You do so much for others, do something for me?"
"Bundy," he said, "you only sell shoes,
Your son is a sneak thief, your daughter a flooze."
"Ho, Ho," Santa said, "Should I mention your wife?
Her hair's like an A-bomb, her nails like a knife."
As he climbed up the chimney, that fat piece of dung,
He mooned me two times, he stuck out his tongue.
I heard him exclaim, as he broke wind with glee,
"You're married with children, you'll never be free."
The stockings were hung by the modem with care
In hope that St. Nicholas would bring new software.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of computer games danced in their heads.
PageMaker for Billy, and Quicken for Dan,
And Carmen Sandiego for Pamela Ann.
The letters to Santa had been sent out by Mom,
To santaclaus@toyshop.northpole.com -
Which has now been re-routed to Washington State
Because Santa's workshop has been bought by Bill Gates.
All the elves and reindeer have had to skedaddle
To flashy new quarters in suburban Seattle.
After centuries of a life that was simple and spare,
St. Nicholas is suddenly a new billionaire,
With a shiny red Porsche in the place of his sleigh,
And a house on Lake Washington that's just down the way
From where Bill has his mansion. The old fellow preens
In black Gucci boots and red Calvin Klein jeans.
The elves have stock options and desks with a view,
Where they write computer code for Johnny and Sue.
No more dolls or toy soldiers or little toy drums (ahem - pardon me)
No more dolls or tin soldiers or little toy drums
Will be under the tree, only compact disk ROMS
With the Microsoft label. So spin up your drive,
From now on Christmas runs only on Win95.
More rapid than eagles the competitors came,
And Bill whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.
"Now, ADOBE! now, CLARIS! now, INTUIT! too,
Now, APPLE! and NETSCAPE! you are all of you through,
It is Microsoft's SANTA that the kids can't resist,
It's the ultimate software with a traditional twist -
Recommended by no less than the jolly old elf,
And on the package, a picture of Santa himself.
Get 'em young, keep 'em long, is Microsoft's scheme,
And a merger with Santa is a marketer's dream.
To the top of the NASDAQ! to the top of the Dow!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away - wow!"
And Mama in her 'kerchief and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
The whir and the hum of our satellite platter,
As it turned toward that new Christmas star in the sky,
The SANTALITE owned by the Microsoft guy.
As I sprang from my bed and was turning around,
My computer turned on with a Jingle-Bells sound.
And there on the screen was a smiling Bill Gates
Next to jolly old Santa, two arm-in-arm mates.
And I heard them exclaim in voice so bright,
Have a MICROSOFT CHRISTMAS, and TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT.
The prepubescent siblings, comfortably ensconced in their respective accommodations of repose, were experiencing subconscious visual hallucinations of variegated fruit confections moving rhythmically through their cerebra. My conjugal partner and I, attired in our nocturnal cranial coverings, were about to take slumbrous advantage of the hibernal darkness when upon the avenaceous exterior portion of the grounds there ascended such a cacophony of dissonance that I felt compelled to arise with alacrity from my place of repose for the purpose of ascertaining the precise source thereof. Hastening to the casement, I forthwith opened the barriers sealing the fenestration, noting thereupon that the lunar brilliance without, reflected as it was on the surface of a recent crystalline aqueous precipitation, might be said to rival that of the solar meridian itself - thus permitting my incredulous optical sensor to peruse a miniature airborne runnered conveyance drawn by an octet of diminutive specimens of the genus Rangifer, piloted by a miniscule, aged chauffeur so ebullient and nimble that it became instantly apparent to me that he was indeed our anticipated caller. With his undulate motive power traveling at what may possibly have been more vertiginous velocity than patriotic alar predators, he vociferated loudly, expelled breath musically through contracted labia, and addressed each of the octet by his or her respective cognomen ... "Now Dasher, now Dancer..." et al. - guiding them to the uppermost exterior level of our abode, through which structure I could readily distinguish the concatenations of each of the 32 cloven pedal extremities.
As I retracted my cranium from its erstwhile location, and was performing a 180-degree pivot, our distinguished visitant achieved - with utmost celerity and via a downward leap - entry by way of the smoke passage. He was clad entirely in animal pelts soiled by the ebon residue from the oxidations of carboniferous fuels which had accumulated on the walls thereof. His resemblance to a street vendor I attributed largely to the plethora of assorted playthings which he bore dorsally in a commodious cloth receptacle. His orbs were scintillant with reflected luminosity, while his submaxillary dermal indentations gave every evidence of engaging amiability. The capillaries of his molar regions and nasal aptenance were engorged with blood which suffused the subcutaneous layers, the former approximating the coloration of Albion's floral emblem, the latter that of the Prunus avium, or sweet cherry. His amusing sub- and supralabials resembled nothing so much as a common loop knot, and their ambient hirstute facial adornment appeared like small, tabular and columnar crystals of frozen water.
Clenched firmly between his incisors was a smokingpiece whose gray fumes, forming a tenuous ellipse about his occiput, were suggestive of a decorative seasonal circlet of holly. His visage was wider than it was high, and when he waxed audibly mirthful, his corpulent abdominal region undulated in the manner of impectinated fruit syrup in a hemispherical container.
Without utterance and with dispatch, he commenced filling the aforementioned hosiery with articles of merchandise extracted from his aforementioned previously dorsally transported cloth receptacle. Upon completion of this task, he executed an abrupt about-face, placed a single manual digit in lateral juxtaposition to his olfactory organ, inclined his cranium forward in a gesture of leave-taking, and forthwith affected his egress by renegotiating (in reverse) the smoke passage. He then propelled himself in a short vector onto his conveyance, directed a musical expulsion of air through his contracted oral sphincter to the antlered quadrupeds of burden, and proceeded to soar aloft in a movement hitherto observable chiefly among the seed-bearing portions of a common weed. But I overheard his parting exclamation, audible immediately prior to his vehiculation beyond the limits of visibility: "Ecstatic yuletides to the planetary constituence, and to that self-same assemblage my sincerest wishes for a salubriously beneficial and gratifyingly pleasurable period between sunset and dawn."
'Twas the night before Christmas,
And all through the ship,
Not an instrument was stirring,
Not one sensor blip.
The Day shift was sleeping,
All snug in their beds,
While images of shore leave
danced in their heads.
Spock was at his station,
and I , in my chair,
Tying my very hardest,
Just to grow hair.
When suddenly from the sensors,
There arose such a clatter ,
That I dashed to the Ops panel,
To see what was the matter.
"Sensors report an Alien",
Said Mr. Chekov with glee,
"He's in Quadrant Four,
course seven-seven-seven mark three."
"Catch that Ship!" I shouted,
Before it's too late,
"Plot a course for quadrant four,
and lay in at Warp eight."
Upon arrival at quadrant four,
The ship was at condition green,
Spock said "We have a visual"
and I ordered, "On screen!".
When what to our long-range
sensors should appear,
but a little red sleigh,
and eight tiny reindeer.
The crew all fell silent,
Even Spock couldn't chat.
Until Scotty piped up with,
"What the devil is that?"
I ordered Uhura to
Hail the strange ship,
but she looked at me like
I was on a bad trip.
"Sir, can't you see?"
"Don't you know who that is?"
"It's Santa Clause sir,"
"He, won't answer our quiz"
When all of the sudden,
in front of us all,
Santa appeared on the bridge.
HO-HO-HO came his call.
"I need a big favor"
Said Santa to me,
"I'm low on Dilithium."
"I need two crystals, maybe three"
"For you Santa, Anything!!"
"I'd do anything for You"
"Scotty, tractor his sleigh "
"into shuttle bay two."
While the crew repaired the sled,
Santa reached for his sack,
He had something for everyone,
in that bag on his back.
For Chekov, some vodka,
for Sulu, a sword .
For Spock a parralax.
(in case he gets bored)
For Uhura, a songbook
For McCoy A mint julip,
For Scotty, some scotch,
For Rand some red tulips.
Then Santa handed me,
a small wrapped up box.
When I opened it up,
all I found were some rocks.
"You've been a bad boy Jim
and I'm being objective.
Not a day goes by when
You don't break the Prime Directive."
Then with a grin,
He reached into his sack,
And found my real gift,
that he wouldn't take back.
It was a small bottle of liquid,
and a small bottle of pills,
I knew in an instant,
It must be Minoxidil .
With his repairs complete,
Santa said his goodbyes
He made sure to see everyone.
Even the red-shirted guys.
We heard him exclaim,
over communications sub-light.
Merry Christmas to all,
And to all a safe flight.
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the skies,
Air defenses were up, with electronic eyes.
Combat pilots were nestled in ready-room beds,
As enemy silhouettes danced in their heads.
Every jet on the apron, each SAM in its tube,
Was triply-redundant linked to the Blue Cube,
And ELINT and AWACS gave coverage so dense,
That nothing that flew could slip through our defense.
When out of the klaxon arose such a clatter,
I dashed to the screen to see what was the matter,
I dialed up the gain and then quick as a flash,
Fine-adjusted the filters to damp out the hash.
And there found the source of the warning we'd heeded,
An incoming blip, by eight escorts preceded.
"Alert status red!" went the word down the wire,
As we gave every system the codes that meant "FIRE"!
On Aegis! Up Patriot, Phalanx and Hawk!
And scramble our fighters -- let's send the whole flock!
Launch decoys and missiles! Use chaff by the yard!
Get the kitchen sink up! Call the National Guard!
They turned toward the target, moved toward it, converged,
Till the tracks on the radar all finally merged,
And the sky was lit up with a demonic light,
As the foe met his fate in the high arctic night.
So we sent out some recon to look for debris,
Yet all that they found, both on land and on sea,
Were some toys, a red hat, a charred left leather boot,
Broken sleighbells, white hair, and a deer's parachute.
Now it isn't quite Christmas, with Saint Nick shot down.
There are unhappy kids in each village and town.
For the Spirit of Christmas can't hope to evade,
All the web of defenses we've carefully made.
Just look how the gadgets we use to protect us,
In other ways alter, transform, and affect us.
They keep us from things that make life more worth living,
Like love for each other, and thoughts of just giving.
But a crash program's on: Working hard, night and day,
All the elves are constructing a radar-proof sleigh.
So let's wait for next Christmas, in cheer and in health,
For the future has hope: Santa's coming by stealth!
OFFICIAL VISIT OF LTG SANTA CLAUS
1. An official staff visit by LTG Claus is expected at this post on 25 Dec. The following directives govern activities of all Army personnel during the visit.
a. Not a creature will stir without permission. This includes warrant officers and mice. Soldiers may obtain special stirring permits for necessary administrative action through the Battalion S-1. Officer stirring permits must be obtained through the Deputy, Post Plans and Policy Office.
b. All personnel will settle their brains for a long winter nap NLT 2200 hours, 24 December. Uniform for the nap will be; Pajamas, Cotton, Light Weight, General Purpose, OG, and Cap, BDU woodland pattern, with ear flaps in the extended position. Equipment will be drawn from the supply room prior to 1900 hours. While at supply, all personnel will review their personal hand receipts and sign a Cash Collection Voucher, DD Form 1131, for all missing items. Remember, this is the "season of giving."
c. Personnel will utilize standard "T" ration sugar plums for visions to dance through their heads. Sugar plums are available in "T" ration sundry packs and should be eaten with egg loaf, chopped ham, and spice cake to ensure maximum visions are experienced.
d. Stockings, Wool, Cushion Sole, will be hung by the chimneys with care. Necessary safety precautions will be taken to avoid fires caused by carelessly hung stockings. 1SG's will submit stocking handling plans to S-3, Training prior to 0800 hours, 24 Dec. All leaders will ensure their subordinate personnel are briefed on the safety aspects of stocking hanging.
e. At initial detection of clatter, all personnel will spring from their beds to investigate and evaluate the cause. Immediate action will be taken to tear open the shutters and throw up the window sashes. On order OPLAN 7-97 (North Pole), para 6-8 (c)(3), dated 4 March, this office, takes effect to facilitate shutter tearing and sash throwing. SDO and all CQs will be familiar with procedures and are responsible for seeing that no shutters are torn or sashes thrown in Bldg 9828 prior to the start of official clatter.
f. Prior to 0001, date of visit, all personnel possessing Standard Target Aquisition and Night Observation (STANO) equipment will be assigned "wandering eyeball" stations. The SDNCO will ensure that these stations are adequately manned even after shutters are torn and sashes are thrown.
g. The Battalion S-4, in coordination with the National Security Agency and the Motor Pool will assign on each Sleigh, Miniature, M-24 and eight reindeer, tiny, for use by LTG Claus. The assigned driver must have a current sleigh operators license with roof top permit and evidence of attendance at the winter driving class stamped on his DA Form 348. Driver must also be able to clearly shout "On Dancer, On Dancer, etc."
2. LTG Claus will initially enter Bldg 9828 through the dayroom. All offices without chimneys will draw Chimney Simulator, M6A2 for use during the visit. Draw chimney simulator on DA Form 2765-1 which will be submitted in four copies to the S-4 prior to 23 Dec. Personnel will ensure that chimneys are properly cleaned before turn-in at the conclusion of visit.
3. Personnel will be rehearsed in the shouting of "Merry Christmas and Happy New Year" or "Merry Christmas To All and To All a Good Night." This shout will be given upon termination of the visit. Uniformity of shouting is the responsibility of each section NCOIC.
FOR THE COMMANDER GOODE, U. B. LTC, OD
Executive Officer