Thursday, December 23, 2004

'twas the night before a blogger's christmas 2004

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Web
not a blogger was blogging, posts were all at an ebb
The stockings were hung by the modem with care
In non-sectarian hope .. er, someone soon would be there.

The Lefties were nestled all snug in their p.j.s,
prepared to save Pagans, and poor folks, and gays
And my Partner in jammies, and I baseball capp'd,
had just settled down for a long winter's nap

When out from the keyboard there arose such a typing
it sounded as loud as a wingnutter griping
Out to the office I flew on a winged foot
to see who was keystroking all of that input.

The moon through the window that fell on my keys
gave the lustre of mid-day to my ancient PC
Where, what to my wondering eyes should appear
but an icon that looked like a sleigh with reindeer.

There was tiny St. Nick, and then I could see
the reindeer were people at keyboards, like me
As speedy as wireless they all typed with one aim,
"For the cause!" said St. Nick, as he called them by name:

"Now TalkLeft! now, BopNews! Now Pandagon! Markos!
On, Wolcott! on Wonkette! on Skippy! On Atrios!
Go get the info and write those next posts
and influence thinking, at least on the coasts!"

As ballots of paper that before the winds fly,
and when meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky
so up up those site meter readings just flew,
with blogrolls and linking to me and to you.

And then in a twinkling, I heard from my speakers
a clatter of feet as if clad in old sneakers
as I drew in my hand, and was touching the keys
when out of the screen St. Nick came in a breeze.

He was dressed all in fur, (but synthetic of course),
with a lead he'd received from an undisclosed source
a bundle of goodies he'd flung on his back
and he looked like a lobbyist opening his pack.

His eyes - how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were all red, like those states on the prairie!
The beard of his chin was as white as the snow,
he looked fat like Falwell, but nicer to know.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his mittens,
"Can't smoke inside," he said, "that law pisses off Hitchens",
he had a broad face and a little round belly,
"Why pick Kerik?" he said, "there was always Ray Kelly."

He was chubby and plump, a right elf just like Ferrell,
(who's anti-Bush and more laughs than that other guy, Darrell),
Then he spoke and said he had brought gifts for the nation,
from his cold, undisclosed (just like Cheney's) location,

And then filling the stockings with toys, treats, and tricks,
said "now let's get ready for 2006"
he said "we'll prevail, if we all share the load,"
then nodding, back to the PC he flowed;

On the screen he jump backed on the sleigh and then whistled,
and flew like a Star Wars (well it IS a dream!) missile.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he flew out of sight

Happy Holidays from Night Light.