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X-mas in the 20th Century

'Twas the night before Christmas -- the very last one --
when the blazing of lasers destroyed all our fun.


Just as Santa had lifted off, driving his sleigh,
A satelite spotted him making his way.


The Star Wars Defense System -- Reagan's desire
Was ready for action, and started to fire!


The laser beams criss-crossed and lit up the sky
Like a fireworks show on the Fourth of July.


I'd just finished wrapping the last of the toys
Wen out of my chimmney there came a great noise.


I looked to the fireplace, hoping to see
St. Nick bringing presents for Missus and me.


But what I saw next was disturbing and shocking;
A flaming red jacket setting fire to my stocking!


Charred reindeer remains and a melted sleigh-bell;
Outside burning toys like confetty they fell.


So now you know, children, why Christmas is gone:
The Star Wars computer had got something wrong.


Only programmed for battle, it hadn't a heart;
'Twas hardly a chance it would work from the start.
It couldn't be tested, and no one could tell,
If the crazy contraption would work very well.


So after a trillion or two had been spent
The system thought Santa a Red missle sent.


So kids dry your tears now, and get off to bed,
There won't be a Christmas -- since Santa is dead.

jegs2 wrote:

That real?

Shinova wrote: That real?

I don't think so, but .... it could be.

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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 became pieces 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, some gloves, and a ripped parachute.

Now it isn't quite Christmas, with Saint Nick shot down.

There are unhappy kids in each village and town.

Can the Spirit of Christmas even 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 can 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,

And be good boys and girls, as Santa goes STEALTH

A cigarette lighter 50 cents

A can of lighter fluid $1.15

An American flag $5.00


Watching a protester catch himself on fire while trying to burn an American flag...



Priceless!

Wow. Santa was born in 1836?

neoolong wrote:Wow. Santa was born in 1836?

Yeah, figured he was older than that. Just goes to show you how much I know....

jegs2 wrote:

neoolong wrote:Wow. Santa was born in 1836?

Yeah, figured he was older than that. Just goes to show you how much I know....

And you're in military too.

Santa. . . . dead?

Don't worry, we still have St. Nicholas, and Kriss Kringle, and dozens of others who give out presents on Dec. 25th.

Yeah, Santa's dead. Norad mistook him for an Islamicised aircraft and ordered him shot down last Christmas as he tried to deliver presents in DC.

Well, Santa DID have a weight problem. It was inevitable.

Darth Wong wrote:Well, Santa DID have a weight problem. It was inevitable.

That, and all he drank was Coca-Cola, and milk.

And all he ate was cookies.

Ted wrote:

Darth Wong wrote:Well, Santa DID have a weight problem. It was inevitable.

That, and all he drank was Coca-Cola, and milk.

And all he ate was cookies.

Let that be a lesson. Eat right or else you will only live 164 years.

How long will you live if you eat right, then?

jegs2 wrote:

Shinova wrote: That real?

I don't think so, but .... it could be.

The picture isn't. The child has been dropped in, he's under direct sunlight, where the tombstone is under indirect sunlight, like a cloudy day. As well, there is a definite edge between the child's hair and the background.

As far as the tombstone, it has most likely been altered, as no one lives to be 164

It's hard to say about the name though. Hard to tell if the fuzziness is digital manipulation left-overs or jpg compression artifacts.

Longer than if you eat a couple million cookies and a billion oz. of milk.

or maybe that *is* the key to long life

Starscream wrote:Longer than if you eat a couple million cookies and a billion oz. of milk.

Santa probably pours it down the drain, and trhows the cookie away, kind of like all the "Letters to God" from little kids end up in an incinerator.