A Politically Correct Christmas Story

Sent by an anonymous source:

'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 rooftops.
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,
Rudolph 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 never 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-pacifistic.

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 passé;
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.

Author Unknown

Signs You Might Be a Trekkie

(This was sent to me by a source who wishes to remain anonymous. I thought it was funny.)

Saying "make it so" in casual conversation.

Indignation because the periodic table doesn't include dilithium and tritanium.

Able to use "variable phase inverter" in a sentence without excessive thought first.

Have figured out the stardate system.

An urge to wear lots of Lycra. Scanning shelves at local liquor store for synthehol.

The Star Trek theme becomes background music for your computer, car stereo, dreams, etc.

Major quote sources for thesis are Shakespeare, the Bible, and "The Omega Glory".

Memorization of the crew's authorization codes. Attending a convention wearing non-Terran vestments.

Actual serious thoughts about buying that $300 model of the Enterprise from the Franklin Mint.Understanding Klingon.

Playing fizzbin and understanding it.

"The Outrageous Okona" seems like a fine piece of writing and dramatic stylistics.

Paying rapt attention during those endless special effects sequences in ST:TMP.

You send weekly love letters to the actress who played the green skinned Orion slave girl on episode number 7.
You pull the legs off your hamster so you'll have a tribble. Your wife left you because you wanted her to dress like a Klingon and torture you for information.

You went to San Francisco to see of you might bump into Kirk and crew while they were in the 20th century looking for a whale.

Your college thesis was a comparison of the careers of T.J. Hooker and Captain Kirk.

You fly into a homicidal rage anytime people say, "Star Trek? Isn't that the one with Luke Skywalker?" You join NASA, hijack a shuttle, and head for the coordinates you calculated for the planet Vulcan.

The UPS guy hands you his electronic clipboard and you're tempted to call him the "Captain's Yeoman" as you sign it. Phrases like 'sentient being' start creeping into your speech patterns.

When you find yourself singing "Headin' Back to Eden" in the shower and you know all the words.

You start practicing raising one eyebrow in front of a mirror.

Someone tells a joke and your only comment is: "Humor, a difficult concept"

You flip open your cellular phone and expect to hear it "chirp." You ask local pet stores if they stock tribbles . . and if they're neutered.

You find yourself executing the "Picard Maneuver." You get on an elevator full of people and have to catch yourself before you tell it what floor you want.

You walk to the microwave and start to order dinner.

Sitting in traffic you seriously start wondering why you're using this primitive form of transportation.

After seeing a news story about a police shooting you wonder, for a moment, why they just didn't set it on stun. You get upset when you go to get a vanity plate and find that WARPSPD has already been taken.

You see a car with a Starfleet Academy sticker and it seems perfectly normal.

Your wardrobe consists of a lot of black slacks with interchangeable gold, red and blue tops.

All babies start to remind you of Jean-Luc Picard.

You drive by a used car lot and start looking for Ferengi.

You start watching commercials because so many Trek alumni are doing the voice-overs.

You know you watch too much Trek when someone asks you to quote some Shakespeare and you do it in Klingon.

You recognize more than four references on this list.

Mis-Credited!

A blog called Msense copied my Heather Mills rat milk post and even linked back to it, but incorrectly said it came from an Indianapolis blog!

Out of the Playoffs

Kermit got bumped out of the playoffs by the Longhorns from Early, TX. Still, it was their best season in years and seemed to brighten the town's mood.

Odessa Permian is still in the playoffs, however.

If I was blogging in Early, I would call this blog The Early News or Birdtown or something. But I digress.

Confessions of a Christmas Deceiver

Robert is 10 and hasn't figured out the secret of Santa yet. This will probably be the last year we get to leave the Santa key out (for homes without a chimney), cookies and milk for Santa, and reindeer food (oats mixed with glitter) in the yard. I will miss being Santa.
Do you have any Christmas traditions you would like to share?

Invasion or Protest March?

From Iwon.com :

GREENLAWN, N.Y. (AP) - Fifteen wild turkeys strutted into a suburban hamlet on Thanksgiving Day and then left just in time to avoid dinner.
The turkeys showed up Thursday morning, drawing crowds of spectators, but left - marching in single file - at about 1 p.m.

Suffolk County police were called because the turkeys created a traffic hazard while crossing a road. But the officers didn't have to intervene because the birds kept walking - and hadn't been seen or heard from since, residents said Friday.

Resident Joyce Logan said there was no practical joke involved and the turkeys could have wandered into the Long Island neighborhood about 40 miles east of Manhattan from a nearby wooded area, where she had been hearing gobbles since summer.

Logan said the birds walked away in a straight line between her house and her neighbor's, and she went back inside to prepare a store-bought turkey dinner for her family.

Unlike some neighbors, Logan said, she never had thoughts of catching one of the turkeys in her yard and turning it into dinner.

"I can't eat something that I've met," she said.

Update on Randy

Thank you for continuing to pray. My nephew is out of the hospital now and recuperating.

Who Would Want That Job?

From Fox News:

LONDON — Heather Mills got steamed up over milk and other dairy products ...
Mills focused on the environmental impact of deforestation and livestock on global warming, citing figures from animal rights group Vegetarians International Voice for Animals (Viva!).
"When (Viva!) told me it was 18 percent, that's more than all global transport, I was in shock. Airplanes only bring 3 percent, while they are being picked on with taxes," she said Monday.
Mills, 39, asked people to "cut down on one or two meat and dairy and fish dishes a week."
"We are the only species that drinks another person's milk, so why aren't we drinking rat's milk, or dog's milk, or cat's milk, that's how crazy it is," she said.
"It's mad that we are having cow's milk. Even cows don't drink it after one year but we continue forever."

My question is...who wants that job?

Twin Peaks Coffee Competition

I have long admired David Lynch. He is not the strangest man on the planet, just the strangest one you'll ever hear about who isn't locked up. This comes to us from a blog called No Hiatus: "David Lynch is looking for the perfect blend to celebrate the release of the Twin Peaks Definitive Gold Box Edition. Since you can’t pour coffee through the Internet, he’s going with a video blend - a mashup of Twin Peaks related materials combined into a perfect tribute for the series.

It’s the Twin Peaks Coffee Blend Competition and Lynch himself will be sipping from every offered cup. Visit the Jumpcut contest page before December 1 to create your masterpiece. There are over 100 elements to choose from including video clips and stills. If you plan to enter, be sure to read the rules, because they are extensive.

If you do enter, come on back here and let us know about it so we can see your work and vote. The three Contest Winners will each receive one (1) “Twin Peaks: Definitive Gold Box Edition” DVD box set and seven (7) cans of David Lynch Signature Cup coffee."

High School Football Update

Early on in this blog, I expressed the desire for the Odessa Permian Panthers to return to their "Friday Night Lights"glory days. Well, it seems that my wish has come true! Permian is going to the playoffs after their first undefeated season since 1991.

The Kermit Yellowjackets are also having a banner year, their best since 1985, and they are also headed into the playoffs with only two losses this year.

Update on Randy

Thank you for all your continued prayers. He is in a private room and hopes to go home this week.

A Milton's Eye View of the World

My dad had a unique homespun expression for slow and steady work. "Do it like a cat eating a grindstone," he would say.
"How does a cat eat a grindstone?" I (or someone) would ask.
"Real slow," he would reply.
This came up during a visit today with Randy in the hospital. He said the doctor had requested him to do something very slowly.
"Like a cat eatin' a grindstone?" Randy asked.
"Huh?" said the doctor.

My dad also contended, seriously or facetiously, that Hitler would have won World War II if he'd had the Phillips screwdriver. I looked this one up on Snopes and they had apparently never heard of it. I did, however, find this site which says the Phillips screwdriver, which was invented in 1936, helped workers turn out vehicles faster during the '40's than they had done previously, but by that time I gather that the Phillips idea had been copied by everyone else in the world.

You can create your own homespun analogies by clicking here.

A Walk in the Graveyard by Robert Kirk

PARENTAL ADVISORY: Mild scariness.

Robert wrote this story for his G/T (gifted/talented) class. I saw his teacher at the grocery store two days ago and she told me she wished she could borrow Robert's brain. I told her that would be fine but she would need to bring her own tools for removing it.

One Saturday night there was a squall.

A walk in the graveyard, that was all.

I walked past the gravestone where Smitty lay.

The storm continued from night to day.

Then one night the dead people rised.

The lightning started unto the skies.

At home, we were sleeping when we heard a voice.

It was booming and not so nice.

Then we were carried to the basement door.

We thought it was over, but there was more.

We then got to the basement and there we saw

a knife stained with blood, and that was all.

But then the knife began to glow.

A strong, strong wind began to blow.

All the dead people walked toward me,

and then on the head I got stung by a bee.

I cut off the heads of the people toward me,

and then I finally got free.

And then I said "It wasn't fun."

I ran away and went on.

Randy

I am asking everyone to pray for my nephew Randy Kirk. He is a year younger than me (I'll explain soon how that's possible) and he has been in intensive care for several days with respiratory problems. Thank you all!

Ghostbuster!

Here's Robert as a ghostbuster.