Canonical List of 'Twas the Night Before Christmas Variations
Version 2007.1
Part 11 of 50
January 7, 2007

Compiled by: Matthew Monroe

Archived at: http://www.alchemistmatt.com/twas/

Contains 849 versions of the classic poem, including headers from most of the posts and credits when available. The versions range from innocent and cute to vulgar and obscene, so read at your own discretion. I have collected most of these versions by searching the newsgroups using Google Groups and the now retired Deja News. I'd be happy to receive any additional versions you might have.

See the Main Index for the complete contents.

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Short Title: ComputerMacromedia

From: Trent Pastrana (trentpastrana@fourlevel.com)
Subject: Re: 'Twas the Night Before Christmas on the Newsgroups 
Newsgroups: macromedia.dreamweaver
Date: 2001-12-22 19:18:46 PST 

"P@tty Ayers"  wrote in message
news:a03f2v$ro0$1@forums.macromedia.com...
 This was a spontaneous collaboration which happened on another 
 nearby list today, presented here unedited for your enjoyment.   :-)


 Twas the night before Christmas
 and all in the group
 were sitting there finishing
 their last for..next loop

 The last bit of code
 was finished with care
 lighting their faces
 with the monitor glare

 Gareth was mourning
 his monitor died
 the screen collapsed
 and the circuits were fried

 Late christmas eve
 and most are still working
 still in the pub
 many are lurking

 All hang their stockings
 by whirring hard drives
 hoping that Santa
 brings them Ultradev 5

 When on the MM groups
 Arose such a clatter
 I clicked right on over
 To see what was the matter

 Away through the windows
 I flew, like Flash
 Tore open Outlook
 And in I did dash

 What what to my wondering eyes should appear
 But a bunch of Team MM guys, all full of beer
 And a little old coder so lively and quick
 I knew in a moment it must be Mick

 More rapid that eagles the posts they came
 And they whistled and shouted and all signed their names:
 Murray, and MaKo, Jon Parkhurst and Blu
 Bill Horvath, and Derek, and JoJo and Drew
 We must answer the questions! We must answer them all!
 Now post away, post away, post away all!

 But the questions kept coming
 same ones again and again
 "When is ultradev 5 ready"
 Oh please tell us when

 But with infinite patience
 The team didn't waiver
 And reposted the answers
 To do newbies a favour

 Their eyes - how they twinkled!
 Their dimples - how merry!
 The questions didn't faze them
 No matter how hairy!
 Their droll little jokes
 As smart as could be
 And every thread
 Went way, way OT

 They spoke not a word
 To anybody at work
 But just stayed on that forum
 Sometimes just to lurk
 Then yawning and stretching
 With a sore neck and back
 Got up from the 'puter
 And went for a snack.

 But I heard them exclaim
 As they moved out of sight
 "Happy Christmas to all
 And to all, a good night!"

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Short Title: ComputerMailServer

Newsgroups: mailing.postfix.users 
From: rlfr...@paradigm-omega.com (Robin Lynn Frank)
Date: Sat, 25 Dec 2004 11:53:22 +0800 (CST) 
Subject: Merry Christmas 

Mail Server Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas as I sat by the server.
Mail volume was down from its usual fervor.
Our staff got home safely, having driven with care.
While I puttered about, upgrading software.

I'd about fallen asleep, when there came such a clatter.
Disks churning, lights flashing, what could be the matter?
A spam assault mounting, numbers beyond counting.
from all round the globe, the toll, it was mounting.

Now what could I do, to stem such a tide.
Lesser folks likely, would do naught but hide.
On Spamhaus, on Spamcop, and you SpamAssassin.
Our restrictions would hold, not one spam would pass in.

The traffic subsided, and became very light.
We'd weathered the storm, put up a good fight.
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Robin Lynn Frank     Director of Operations
(0 0)                Paradigm-Omega, LLC
http://www.paradigm-omega.com/


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Short Title: ComputerMicrosoft1

        ---- A MICROSOFT CHRISTMAS  ----

 'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
  Not a creature was stirring, except Papa's mouse.
  The computer was humming, the icons were hopping,
  As Papa did last-minute Internet shopping.

  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.
 

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Short Title: ComputerMicrosoft2

Author:   Zaphod
Email: David_Powell@zaphod.freeserve.co.spamlessuk
Date: 1998/12/03
Forums: alt.sl9

The Night Before Christmas (New version)

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except Papa's mouse.
The computer was humming, the icons were hopping,
As Papa did his last-minute Internet shopping.

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.

Dark Forces for Billy, and Doom II for Dan,
And Carmen Sandiego for Pamela Ann.
And all the letters to Santa had been sent out by Mom,
To santaclaus@toyshop.northpole.com -

But the letters were 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 digs in suburban Seattle.

After centuries of a life that was simple and spare,
St. Nicholas is suddenly a rich 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 elves have stock options and desks with a view,
Where they write computer code for Johnny and Sue.
No more dolls or little toy drums
Because under the tree, there are only CD ROMS
So boys and girls, spin up your drive,
From now on Christmas runs only on Windows 95.

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 whirr 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.

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Short Title: ComputerMicrosoftAccess

From: Jeff Conrad (jeffc@ernstbrothers.com)
Subject: An Access Holiday Story 
Newsgroups: microsoft.public.access.forms
Date: 2002-12-23 09:50:17 PST 

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the 
house. Not a creature was stirring, not even an Access 
Developer. The stockings were hung by the chimney with 
care, in hopes that St. Vinson soon would be there. The 
children were nestled all snug in their beds, while 
visions of add-ins, utilities, and service packs danced in 
their heads.

And Mama in her 'Access Rocks' shirt and I in my cap, 
had just settled our brains for a long 'waiting for it to 
compile' nap. When out on the lawn there arose such a 
clatter, I sprang from my desk chair to see what was the 
matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open 
the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow, gave 
the lustre of midday to my databases below. When what to 
my wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature sleigh, 
and eight tiny DB developers! With a little old driver, so 
lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Vinson.

More rapid than FoxPro his courses they came, and he 
whistled and shouted, and called them by name; Now Arvin! 
Now Stephen! Now Bruce and Dan! On Hugh! On Sandra! On 
Dirk and Van! To the top of the porch! To the top of the 
wall! Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, 
when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky. So up 
to the housetop the courses they flew, with the sleigh 
full of Access goodies, and St. Vinson, too.

And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof the 
prancing and pawing of each little foot. As I drew in my 
head and was turning around, down the chimney St. Vinson 
came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, 
and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot. A 
bundle of ODEs he had flung on his back, and he looked 
like a pedlar just opening his pack. His eyes how they 
twinkled! His dimples, how merry! His cheeks were like 
roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, and 
the beard of his chin was as white as the snow. The stump 
of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, and the smoke it 
encircled his head like a wreath. He had a 'Got Access?' 
shirt and a little round belly that shook when he laughed, 
like a bowl full of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf. And I 
laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself. A wink of his 
eye and a twist of his head, soon gave me to know I had 
nothing to dread. He spoke not a word, but went straight 
to his work, and filled all the stockings, then turned 
with a jerk.

And laying his finger aside of his nose, and giving a 
nod, up to the chimney he rose. He sprang to his sleigh, 
to his team gave a whistle, and away they all flew like 
the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ere he 
drove out of sight, 'Happy Christmas to all, and to all a 
good night!'


From my family to yours, may you all have a safe and 
blessed Christmas holiday!
Jeff Conrad
Bend, Oregon


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Short Title: ComputerNetObjectsDiscussion

   Author:   Julian Haley
   Email: jhaley@*nospam*scandura.net
   Date: 1998/12/22
   Forums: netobjects.fusion30.gen-discussion-windows,
   netobjects.fusion30.web-design
   
'Twas the night before Chrismas and all through the house
only a hard drive was whirring, as I clicked on my mouse.
The NOD files were stored in the directories with care
in hope that after rebooting they still would be there

The support staff was nestled, their loss I do dread,
the content of recovery.txt complied in their head
There's Marie spewing knowledge while flamers post their crap
the questions keep coming, no time for a nap.

When out of the newsgroup, there arose such a clatter
I sifted through posts to see what was the matter.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
Version 4 pre-release was ready to clear.

The dowload was messy, and hardly too quick
but I knew when I launched it, it was bound to be slick
The features were plenty, and supporters, they came
we shouted and cheered as we called them by name

Better import, new tables, no more RTF fixin
new components and styles and an  API that's a vixen
From the puter on my coffee table, and the laptop in the hall,
version 4 is being installed , not on just one..but on them all

Afraid I must stop , because just as I knew
I've spent much too much time rhyming while I've got so much to do
My links need more linking , my photos need cropped
but I'm still in a quandary on how this rhyme should be stopped

But just as I say that, a light flashed in my head
if I don't finish this site, I'm going to be dead
As I very well know, you care not of my plight,
so I say merry Christmas to all and to all a good night

Julian :-)

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Short Title: ComputerNetwork1

   Author:   Mock Turtle
   Email: m_turtle@hotmail.com
   Date: 1998/12/24
   Forums: alt.2600
   
Network Working Group                                            V. Cerf
Request for Comments: 968                                            MCI
                                                           December 1985

                    'Twas the Night Before Start-up'

STATUS OF THIS MEMO

   This memo discusses problems that arise and debugging techniques used
   in bringing a new network into operation.  Distribution of this memo
   is unlimited.

DISCUSSION

   Twas the night before start-up and all through the net,
     not a packet was moving; no bit nor octet.
   The engineers rattled their cards in despair,
     hoping a bad chip would blow with a flare.
   The salesmen were nestled all snug in their beds,
     while visions of data nets danced in their heads.
   And I with my datascope tracings and dumps
     prepared for some pretty bad bruises and lumps.
   When out in the hall there arose such a clatter,
     I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.

   There stood at the threshold with PC in tow,
     An ARPANET hacker, all ready to go.
   I could see from the creases that covered his brow,
     he'd conquer the crisis confronting him now.
   More rapid than eagles, he checked each alarm
     and scrutinized each for its potential harm.

   On LAPB, on OSI, X.25!
     TCP, SNA, V.35!

   His eyes were afire with the strength of his gaze;
     no bug could hide long; not for hours or days.
   A wink of his eye and a twitch of his head,
     soon gave me to know I had little to dread.
   He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
     fixing a net that had gone plumb berserk;
   And laying a finger on one suspect line,
     he entered a patch and the net came up fine!

   The packets flowed neatly and protocols matched;
     the hosts interfaced and shift-registers latched.
   He tested the system from Gateway to PAD;
     not one bit was dropped; no checksum was bad.
   At last he was finished and wearily sighed
     and turned to explain why the system had died.
   I twisted my fingers and counted to ten;
     an off-by-one index had done it again...

   Vint Cerf
   December 1985

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Short Title: ComputerNetwork2

             The Net Before Christmas
                      by
         Jim Trudeau & Jay Trudeau (1991)
        With apologies to Clement C. Moore

 'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the nets
 Not a mousie was stirring, not even the pets.
 The floppies were stacked by the modem with care
 In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
 The files were nestled all snug in a folder
 The screen saver turned on, the weather was colder.

 And leaving the keyboard along with my mouse
 I turned from the screen to the rest of the house.
 When up from the drive there arose such a clatter
 I turned to the screen to see what was the matter.
 Away to the mouse I flew like a flash,
 Zoomed open a window in fear of a crash...

 The glow from the screen on the keyboard below
 Gave an electronic luster to all my macros.
 When what to my wondering eyes should appear
 But a little sleigh icon with eight tiny reindeer
 And a tiny disk driver so SCSI and quick
 I knew in a nano it must be Saint Nick.

 More rapid than trackballs his cursors they came,
 He whistled and shouted and faxed them by name.
 "Now Flasher! Now Dasher! Now Raster and Bixel!
 On Phosphor! On Photon! On Baudrate and Pixel!
 To the top of the stack. To the top of the heap."
 Then each little reindeer made a soft beep.

 As data that before the wild electrons fly,
 When they meet with a node, mount to the drive,
 So up to the screentop the cursors they flew
 With a sleigh full of disks and databits, too.
 And then in a twinkling I heard the high whine
 Of a modem connecting at a baud rate so fine.

 As I gazed at the screen with a puzzling frown
 St. Nicholas logged on though I thought I was down.
 He was dressed all in bytes from header to footer
 And the words on the screen said "Don't you reboot 'er."
 A bundle of bits he had flung on his back
 And he looked like a programmer starting his hack.

 His eyes how they glazed, his hair was so scary,
 His cola was jolt, not flavored with cherry.
 His droll little mouth was drawn up like a GIF
 And the pixels of his beard sure gave me a lift.
 The stump of a routine he held tight in his code
 And I knew he had made it past the last node.

 He spoke not a word but looked right at me
 And I saw in a flash his file was .SEA.
 He self-decompressed and I watched him unfold,
 Into a jolly old elf, a sight to behold.
 And the whispering sound of my hard drive's head
 Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

 He went straight to his work without saying a word
 And filled all the folders of this happy nerd.
 And 'tis the whole truth, as the story is told,
 That giving a nod up the window he scrolled,
 He sprang to the serial port as if truly on fire
 And away they all flew down the thin copper wire.

 But I heard him exclaim as he scrolled out of sight
 "Happy Christmas to All, and to all a good night."


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Short Title: ComputerNetwork3

from http://www.spring-tree.com/christmas.html

                          Twas St. Echo 
                                      
         'Twas the night before Christmas, and throughout the net,
            not a modem was chirping; (It wasn't mail-hour yet).
               The peripherals down and backed up with care,
                In hopes that St. Echo soon would be there.

               The grad students home all snug in their beds,
                  with hi-res dreams abuzz in their heads.
                 We Sysops lounged by the terminal's glow,
                     With occasional bursts of RF snow.

            When from the hard drives there came such a clatter,
           To the consoles we sprang to see what was the matter.
              The monitor cleared, then flashed red and green,
              as we hunched in our chairs around the machine.

               When what to our wondering eyes should appear,
                 but VGA graphics of a sleigh and reindeer,
               with a bitmapped driver, a lively old fellow,
                   I knew right away it must be St. Echo.

                   Faster than mnp his packets they came,
           and he whistled and shouted as he called them by name:
               "Now, Arpa! now, Bitnet! now, Opus and D-Comm!
                 On, CC:Mail and Fido and SEAdog and TComm!

              Over Watts and Pursuit, via long-distance call,
                  Now hack away, hack away, hack away all!
              As fast as the switching that sends them about,
            When they meet with a BUSY, change to "host route",

                   So onto the mailer, and protocol sync,
                 when the RD and SD lights ceased to blink.
                 There off the screen, I saw a reflection,
             and turned 'round to look in the other direction.

                Right there behind us, amidst the tech-toys,
               Had appeared St. Echo, with not even a noise.
          Wearing a grimy red jumpsuit from his feet to his beard,
                  None but a techie could look that weird.

                 Odd bits of surplus hung out of his sack,
               that bulged at odd angles slung over his back.
               His eyes did twinkle, though somewhat bleary,
              from staring at monitors, yet still quite merry.

               The corners of his mouth were turned up in a grin,
             and a scraggly gray beard hung down from his chin.
                 A '486 portable in his left hand was held,
               and a cellular modem was strapped to his belt.

                   I smiled to see him, this overweight gnome,
              he settled down by the CP, as if it 'twere home.
               A flip of the toggles, and a tug on his beard,
                soon showed us that he was not to be feared.

              He spoke not a word, but went straight to work,
             filled all empty sockets, then with a swift jerk,
                 replaced a few boards inside the machine,
                turned it back on and checked it out clean.

            The screen cleared once more, flashed green and red,
                as he faded from sight he (wave)d and said;
              "Keep the net singing, and I'll always be near,
               Merry Christmas to all, and a Happy New Year!"

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Short Title: ComputerNetwork4

from http://www.spring-tree.com/christmas.html

                          A visit from Saint Nick
                                by Stan Veit

            T'was the night before Christmas and all over town,
               the screens were all blank, the PC were down.
              The hackers were all snuggled deep in their beds
          while graphics of computer games danced in their heads.

                     Mom and I, without making a peep,
              were all settled down for a long winters sleep.
               When from my modem there came such a clatter,
              I jumped from my bed to see what was the matter.

                 Away to the console, I flew like a whisk,
                   signed on to the net with my BBS disk.
                  My PC on line had a screen full of snow
               with red and green LEDs from the modem below.

                  When what on the color screen did appear
                  but a tiny sled and eight tiny reindeer.
               With a little red driver so lively and quick,
                    I new in a flash it must be St. Nick.

              More rapid than glitches, his coursers they came
              he whistled and shouted and called them by name.
                     Now Apple, Atari, Amiga and CoCo,
                   on Mac and Morrow and Tandy and Sanyo.

                Across the screen with the speed of Invaders
           they came until they had flown right out of the frame!
                   Up to the top of the screen they flew
             with the sled full of disks and St. Nicholas, too.

                   Then in a twinkle I heard on the roof,
               the dancing and prancing of each little hoof.
               The graphics changed as I was turning around.
                Then down the chimney he came with a bound.

               He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf
             and I laughed when I saw him in spite of my self.
             He seemed sure of himself in his Yuletide venture
             like a character right out of a game of Adventure.

                  He set up his portable as quick as a fox
                and uploaded software in hundreds of blocks.
                He spoke not a word in his session of work,
              then closed his computer and turned with a jerk.

                     Laying his finger beside his nose
            and giving a nod, to the top of the screen he rose.
             He sprang to his sled, to his team gave a whistle
             and away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

             But I read the caption before he faded from sight.
              MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!

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Short Title: ComputerNetworkologist

Subject:      Twas the Night before Christmas
From:         bmds@worldnet.att.net (John Staub)
Date:         1997/12/19
Message-ID:   
Newsgroups:   borland.public.vdbase.non-technical

       A Networkologist's Christmas (v. 950)

"Tis the night before Christmas," I thought with a frown.
 I was stuck at the office.  The network was down.
 The routers were hung in the closet.  All crashed.
 Their tables had holes in their data.  All trashed.
 Remote distribution, it seems, just for fun,
 Had erased DLLs Windows 95 needed to run
 On 84 desktops way down in accounting.
 I sat stunned at my desk, my blood pressure mounting.

 When all of a sudden there arose such a clatter,
 I saw that a server had something the matter.
 There was smoke coming out of the main hard disk drive.
 "No problem, " I thought.  "I'm set up with RAID 5. "
 But I found out the system I thought was unstoppable
 Had disk drives that turned out completely unswappable!
 "No problem," I thought.  "I've tape backup to thank.
 And then I discovered my backups were blank.

The UPS burped, and its lights all went out.
I started to scream!  I started to shout!
But nobody heard as I vented my rage.
My gurus were all on vacation those days.
And nobody's tech support answered the phone.
I was nose deep in trouble, completely alone.
When out at reception, I heard a soft knock.
As the hands just touched midnight on my desktop clock...

"What's your problem?" he asked.
"Never mind, friend, I know.
I checked out your network five hours ago.
I did some proactive analysis, so
I knew that this time bomb was going to blow.
Who was this guy?  Who did he think he was?
He was dressed in red coveralls, white beard, black gloves.

His eyes had the twinkle of technical genius.
His smile cut down personal distance between us.
He spread out his tools, and went straight to his work.
"Whoever configured this network's a jerk,"
He said with a :-) as he quickly rebooted,
Uploaded some software, and smoothly rerouted
The LAN to a WAN that he quickly supplied
With bandwidth at least 20 gigabits wide
That went via wireless, I think, LEO,
To tech support elves waiting at the North Pole.

"Now bridging, now routing, now Ethernet hubs!"
 He chanted as each piece of hardware he rubbed.
"Cheer up, my good friend! Lose that mindset so tragic!
 Technology often looks just like some magic
 To people who don't understand what we do.
 Now a switch, emulation, now middleware glue!
 Look at the protocols, check one or two,
 Debug a bit, test a bit, presto!  We're through!"

 My data was back!  Every system checked out!
 Tears of joy wet my face as I wandered about.
 "How can I thank you?  You must be Saint Nick!"
 He said, 'Really, my friend, it's not such a great trick,
 If you don't give up hope, focus on what you're doing,
 And read all your issues of  NETWORK COMPUTING.'
 And I heard him exclaim, as his reindeer were coursing,
 "Merry Christmas to all!  And consider outsourcing!"
    -by Timothy Haight

John
--
Blue Mountain Data Systems
(850) 913-8488
http://ourworld.compuserve.com/homepages/bmds/

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Short Title: ComputerNew

Originally published in:
The Durham Herald-Sun
Sunday, December 24, 2000
Section E, page 7

'Twas the Night Before ...
by Stephen White of Durham

Twas the week before Christmas, and all through the house
You could hear me beating the computer with the mouse.
The disk was hung up in the disk drive with care,
And, needless to say, I nearly pulled out my hair.

I gave up for that night, got ready for bed,
And wondered, "Should I just buy cards instead?"
Mama and daddy had just hit the hay,
So I told them good night, and went on my way.

When out in the yard I heard some commotion,
I jumped out of bed like waves from the ocean.
Over to the window I flew like a trout,
Opened it up and nearly fell out.

Two bright headlights on our newly spread gravel
Really helped this mystery start to unravel.
With what should my wondering eyes be struck,
But a red-nosed reindeer on the front of a brown truck.
With a big ol' feller in a UPS uniform
I knew in a moment it must be ... St. Norm?!?

His eyes had thick glasses, his arms were real strong.
'Cause the fragile package he threw landed with a bong!
Attached was an envelope, a message to behold,
"Open BEFORE Christmas -- St. Nick, North Pole."

I opened the parcel and what did I see?
A new 233 megahertz Pentium MMX PC!
I wrote him a letter, telling him I was obliged,
And I took it to be sent by the U.S. Post guys.

I walked in the Post Office and said, "This needs to go
"To my friend St. Nicholas in the North Pole."
He said not a word until he finished his work
And before I left, I thanked that postal clerk.

The door closed behind me and I clapped my hands
Since I had finished the task that not long ago began.
As I left, I saw Santa in a Ford ZX2,
Saying, "Merry Christmas, y'all, and Happy New Year, too!"

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Short Title: ComputerNightmare

Subject:      A Computer Christmas nightmare
From:         MELROSEMAN 
Date:         1997/12/26
Message-ID:   <34A4AFDB.18D9@geocities.com>
Newsgroups:   alt.tv.melrose-place

                 A Computer Christmas nightmare

  'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
       Not a peripheral was stirring, not even a mouse;
       The modem was hung by the keyboard with care
       In hopes that a download soon would be there.
        The pirates were nestled all snug in their beds
      While visions of unprotects danced in their heads.
        And the wife in her kerchief, and I in my cap
        Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
     When up on the hard drive there arose such a clatter,
      I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
          Away to the monitor I flew like a flash,
     Sat down at the keyboard, gave the spacebar a mash.
         The sight on the screen, a'flicker with snow
      Gave the luster of power surge to the menu below.
      When, what to my wandering eyes should appear,
        But an autoexec.bat that seemed rather queer.
         With a little print driver so lively and quick,
         I knew in a moment I had seen a new trick.
         More rapid than eagles my curser it came;
  My voice box whistled, and shouted, and called me by name.
        "Now format, now rename, copy, and enter!
    On num lock, on caps lock, on scroll lock, and printer.
        To the top of the page, to the top of the doc,
       Now tab it and bold it and merge it and block."
          As utilities that build up the CPU speed
           Clash with just the programs I need,
          So up to the screen top the curser it flew
    With a RAM full of memory and an extension board too.
       And then, in a twinkling I heard on the speaker,
     The grinding of the hard drive growing much weaker.
          As I tried to reboot and turn it around,
        The attributes changed from blue into brown.
            I hit the control, the alt, and delete.
          The message it gave me, I cannot repeat.
          It asked me to Ignore, Retry, or Abort.
      It told me the parallel had become the comm port.
      Its lights how they twinkled; its pixels how merry.
   Its prompts were all scrambled, like a bowl full of cherries.
           It sounded just like it wanted to blow;
        The screen was suddenly white as the snow.
          It scrolled the directory before my eyes
          With programs I didn't even recognize.
            It wouldn't see D; it wouldn't see E.
              I couldn't get out of B into C.
                Norton's tried to read it;
                It finally found the FAT;
              But alas!, the disk was faulty,
                And couldn't reformat.
                Away flew the DBase;
                Away flew the DOSes;
               Away flew the WordStar;
              Right out with the Windows.
            The spreadsheets were spreading;
               The footers were heading;
              What once had been memory
                Was close to forgetting.
              When the grinding was over
             And the smoke had all cleared,
                  I looked at the unit,
               And it was just as I feared.
        The 40 meg wonder had crashed in the night.
          I'll never be able to block out that sight!
            So tell everyone to avoid my plight;
      Back up! Back up! Merry Christmas! Good Night!

--
MELROSEMAN
Creator of MELROSE PLACE 1997: D&D: DEATH & DEPARTURE
http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/4616/

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Short Title: ComputerProgrammer1

Newsgroups: rec.humor
Subject: Night before Xmas
Message-ID: <4btf42$991@saluki-news.wham.siu.edu>
From: Peter Piacenza 
Date: 28 Dec 1995 06:57:06 GMT
Organization: SIUC

	Twas the night before crisis,
	And all through the house,
	Not a program was working,
	Not even a browse.

	Programmers were wrung out,
	Too mindless to care,
	Knowing chances of cutover
	Hadn't a prayer.

	The users were nestled
	All snug in their beds,
	While visions of inquiries
	Danced in their heads.

	When out in the lobby
	There arose such a clatter,
	That I sprang from my tube
	To see what was the matter.

	And what to my wondering
	Eyes should appear,
	But a Super Programmer,
	Oblivious to fear.

	More rapid than eagles,
	His programs they came
	And he whistled and shouted
	And called them by name.

	On Update!  On Add!
	On Inquiry!  On Delete!
	On Batch Jobs!  On Closing!
	On Functions Complete!

	His eyes were glazed over,
	His fingers were lean,
	From weekends and nights
	Spent in front of a screen.

	A wink of his eye,
	And a twist of his head,
	Soon gave me to know
	I had nothing to dread.

	He spoke not a word,
	But went straight to his work,	
	Turning specs into code,
	Then he turned with a jerk.

	And laying his fingers
	Upon the ENTER key,
	The system came up,
	And worked perfectly!

	The updates updated;
	The deletes they deleted;
	The inquiries inquired;
	And the closing completed.

	He tested each whistle,
	He tested each bell,
	With nary an abend,
	And all had gone well.

	The system was finished,
	The tests were concluded,
	The client's last changes
	Were even included!

	And the client exclaimed,
	With a snarl and a taunt,
	"It's just what I asked for,
	But it's not what I want!"


 

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Short Title: ComputerProgrammer2

Subject:      The byte before Christmas
From:         Rowland Croucher 
Date:         1997/12/20
Message-ID:   <349C044A.48F01772@mira.net>
Newsgroups:   aus.religion.christian,aus.religion,aus.jokes
 
                     The Byte Before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
    Not a user was using ...  not even a mouse;
The programs were hung from the bugs in their code,
    In hopes that a guru would soon cure their woes;
The data were nestled all snug in their beds,
    While versions of software danced in their heads;
The boss dimmed the lights as I locked up my desk,
    A couple days off and a well-deserved rest;
Then all of a sudden there came such a clatter,
    I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.

Away to the processor I flew like a flash,
    What a terrible sound .. like a massive headcrash;
The lights they were blinking and beaming aglow,
    The hardcopy printout said "Let service know!";
When what to my wandering eyes should appear,
    On a silicon wafer ... a field engineer;
A little device driver, so lively and quick,
    I knew in a moment it must be St. Chip!
More rapid than Macro, his cursor insane,
    He whistled and shouted like a video game.

Now, Pascal!  Now, Basic!, Now, Fortran and Cobol!
    On RPG!  On PL/1, On Dibol and Snobol!

To the top of the registers, the bottom of core!
    Run diagnostics and see what they store!
As memory leaves when electricity flies,
    The 'Rep' cracked a smile and loosened his tie;
He was chubby and plump, said the place was a wreck,
    And I laughed when I saw him (in spite of high tech).
A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head,
    Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He was dressed from his head to his feet in a suit,
    His briefcase was heavy with tools to re-boot.

With bundles of bits bulging out of his slacks,
    He looked like a pro 'bout to fix a blown pack.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
    Reseated PC boards, then turned with a smirk;
Hit return with his finger and said "Here it goes,"
    And giving a nod, into the CRT he dove.
But I heard him exclaim, 'ere leaving the site,
    "Restore the data, and all will be right!"

--
Shalom!  Rowland Croucher                  (rowlandc@mira.net)

Director, John Mark Ministries - resources for pastors/leaders
  (Bookroom, library, and worldwide F.W.Boreham Trading Post)
    Website (1000 articles)- http://www.pastornet.net.au/jmm
     CLERGY/LEADERS' LIST: clergy-request@pastornet.net.au
                    ('SUBSCRIBE' on subject-line)


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Short Title: ComputerProgrammer3

from http://kate.gulf.net/holidays/christmas/nightbefore.html

 Twas the Night Before Rollout

Twas the night before implementation
And all through the house
Not a computer was working,
Not even a mouse.

The programmers hung by their ties in despair,
With hopes that a miracle soon would be there.
The customers were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of progress danced in their heads.

When out of the CODE there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.
And what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a super programmer (with a six pack of beer).

His resume glowed with experience so rare,
He turned out great code with a bit pusher's flair.
More rapid than eagles, his routines they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name:

On operator NEW! On operator DELETE!
On "for" loops! "do while"! On Functions Complete!

His eyes were glazed over, fingers nimble and lean,
From weekends and nights spent in front of a screen.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know, I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Turning specs into code, then turned with a jerk;
And laying his finger upon the "enter" key,
The system came up and worked perfectly.

The functions functioned; the deletes, they deleted;
The inquiries inquired and "for" loops completed.
He tested each whistle, and tested each bell,
With nary a rewrite, thus all had gone well.

The code was checked in, the tests were concluded,
Marketing's last changes were even included.
"Heh!", the customer exclaimed with a snarl and a taunt,
"It's just what I asked for, but not what I want!"

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Short Title: ComputerProgrammer4

From: CommonSense (NoSpam@DieSpammersDieDie.DIE)
Subject: Captain Xerox -- the "K" activist! 
Newsgroups: alt.activism
Date: 2003-07-28 21:49:54 PST 

The Night Before Due Date

'Twas the night before due date when all through the center
Not a creature was stirring -- Lurch wasnít even at the printer.
The printouts were stacked on the table with care
In hopes that "The Captain" soon would be there.

The students were sprawled on their keyboards, so dead
While visions of parties danced in their heads.
And "Sam" with her sticks and Mom with her broom
Were ready to kill Buckie if he entered the room.

When all of a sudden the printer began to chatter
K----- sprang into the room to see what he could gather.
Away to the printer he flew in a lurch
Positioning himself over it like a bird on a perch.

The programs printing were the ones he needed
For "xeroxing" was the art to which he conceded.
When what to my bloodshot eyes should appear
But an ICCF screen and eight options, so clear.

With a second year student going through a box
I knew in a moment it must be Captain Xerox.
More rapid than copies, the screens up they came
And he sniffed and snorted and called them by name.

"Now COBOL! Now RPG! Now BASIC! Now FORTRAN!"
"On GOTO! Execute CICS, Assembler, and BTAM!"
"To the end of main storage and the last file on VTOC,"
"Now compile, compile, Iím fighting the clock!"

As a lurch when he attempts to take in a view,
Gazed into his screen and began typing, too.
So into the Reader the jobs were submitted
And he smiled as the stolen programs he listed.

I watched him intently -- to sleep I could not afford
He continued to key and enter jobs on the keyboard.
As I fought off unconsciousness and was rubbing my eyes
I heard the distinct sound of a hiss and a sigh.

He had yellow crooked teeth no braces could right
And a lurch that would make anyone sick on sight.
A bundle for printouts he had flung on his back
And he eyed the printer, ready to attack.

His glasses were so filthy! His teeth oh so bent!
His feet smelled like a locker room. His armpits, a different scent.
His untimely breath had the odor of "zactly"
I think Iíll stop there -- I need to speak tactfully.

The hunch of a lurch was an outright appall
For the view he tried for irritated me most of all.
He had a laugh that could raise the hackles of your back
I know, I know, speak with a little more tact.

He was homely and unlearned, a not so smart buck
But I couldnít feel sorry for him in spite of his luck.
A lean of his back and an intake of breath
Gave me to fear an instant death.

He spoke not a word but went straight to his work
And copied all the programs, then turned with a lurch.
And sticking his finger deep inside his nose
And snorting again, up the elevator he rose.

He leaped into his car and gave a loud laugh
That sounded like the cry of a newborn calf.
But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight
"Thank you for the printouts, and have a good night!" 

During Christmastime 1987, three classmates and I composed what turned
out to be a "poem" in the same meter as "The Night Before Christmas."
We were taking classes to learn computer programming, not poetry. 


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Short Title: ComputerSpammer

From: Russell Miller (rmiller@duskglow.com)
Subject: Merry Christmas to Lamie! 
Newsgroups: news.admin.net-abuse.email
Date: 2003-12-24 08:53:41 PST 

Merry Christmas to Lamie
by Russell Milelr

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
not a creature was stirring not even a mouse.
But at his computer typing with care,
was Jamie the spammer with his head full of air.

He sent spam after spam he tried to play venus,
selling Russian brides or a much longer penis,
or maybe to fund a nice trip to niagara,
he decided to sell a dose of viagra.

When suddenly, from above there rose such a clatter,
that Jamie jumped up to clean off the spatter.
For see, he was looking at milfies dot com
and got off on models as old as his mom.

And Santa down, and said, "Ho ho ho,"
poor jamie looked frightened that Santa would say "no".
So Santa asked him nicely if he'd been a good boy,
because if he had he'd give a nice toy.

Jamie said he had but Santa said "We'll see.
"Now wait just a darn moment just how good can you be?
You've done nothing but spam and act like a jerk.
You send out bad larts that don't even work."

"You try to shut down anyone you don't like,
then you whine and you cry like a sad little tyke.
You've no care for the truth for what's wrong or right
only thing that you want is to make others fright."

"Well you've been a bad boy," said the jolly old elf,
"you'll get nothing but coal for your bad silly self."
Jamie ranted and raved and he threatened to sue
and told Santa to crawl under rocks, and "fuck you."

But Santa just looked at Jamie with pity
and said "You need help, there are shrinks in this city."
"I hope you get help that you desperately need
but now I've to go, I've got reindeer to feed"

And Santa grappled up Jamie's chimney at last
saying "Merry Christmas to all and TEST, Jamie, TEST!"

-- 
Russell Miller
Somewhere near Sioux City, Iowa
Freelance computer programmer/administrator, pianist, and generally nice guy.


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Matthew Monroe in Richland, WA

Last Modified December 15, 2010