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.

Short Title: AltGossipRoyalty

   Author:   Nick
   Email: choules@hotmail.com
   Date: 1998/12/23
   Forums: alt.gossip.royalty

   'Twas the NIght before Christmas in AGR
   
'Twas the night before Christmas
When all through AGR
Not a creature was stirring
Not even Patriciar.

The trolls were posted on the server with care
In hopes that a Royalist soon would be there.

The posters were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Diana danced in their heads.

And Sonia and Mary, with a spit and a fight
Had just settled in for a long winter's night.

When out on the keyboard there arose such a clatter
I clicked on Yahoo! to see what was the matter.

The anti-Royal prejudice lying around
Made it hard to see facts lying right on the ground.

When, what to my shock did I  contemplate -
But a shiny new Rolls and our own Head of State!

More rapid than eagles her detractors they followed,
But she waved, and struck back with a brolly she'd borrowed.

With a smile and a speech - no sign of a tizz,
I knew in a moment it must be Queen Liz.

"On Quondam, on Sonia, up Phil and up jim!"
(Her Majesty's humour was really quite grim).
"Now Charles give a shove, if you see Mary,  kill 'er,
"And then I may just let you marry Camilla!"

When she came down the chimney she spoke not a word
But in jim's Christmas stocking tipped a long corgi turd.

With a glare of her eye and a nod of her head
The Canadians present had nothing to dread.

She spoke not a word but went right to her works
Which consisted of designating republicans jerks

She was jolly and warm, a vision of Royal will,
And I smiled and bowed deeply, just to spite Sideshow phil.

And then, dubbing me Sir with a long Royal sword
With a snap of her fingers left the AGR horde.

But I heard her exclaim, 'ere she drove out of sigt,
"Happy Christmas to All! - Now, Back to the Fight!!"

Sir Nick

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Short Title: AltGuineaPigConspiracy

Subject:      Twas the Night Before Conquest
From:         newcoran@gateway.com
Date:         1997/12/16
Message-ID:   <882332007.1193672705@dejanews.com>
Newsgroups:   alt.guinea.pig.conspiracy

"Twas the night before conquest when all through the house
Every cavy was stirring, though quiet as a mouse
The plutonium was stowed under the shavings with care
For the Galaxian Council soon would be there.

The humans were nestled all snug in their beds,
Unaware of the guinea pig inspired dread.
And mom in her kerchief and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a mid-solstice nap.

When out of the cages arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
The ammonia clouds rose up, and then came a flash.
Their biological weapons soon caused me to gasp
The glow of the mother-ship on the fresh-fallen snow,
Gave a nuclear luster to objects below.

When, what to my watering eyes should appear,
But Reggie (the veggie) in full combat gear
With an ancient old cavy, so lively and quick,
I knew what was happening.  It was making me sick.

More rapid then eagles the onslaught it came
They whistled and wheeped and took control of my brain.
Now agoutis, and short-haired, and silky satins
Wavy rexes and shelties, Abyssinian assassins.
To the top of the cage, to the neighborhood mall
Now conquer the humans and send out the call!

As dry leaves before the wild hurricane fly,
Our minds were no match, our brains would just fry.
Through phone lines and internet the great wheeping grew
We tried to resist - but what could we do?

And then with a rumble, I heard through the door
It was Reggie (the veggie) the most ancient of boars
As I drew back in fright and crouched close to the ground
Down the hallway the guinea pigs came with a bound

They were covered with fur from their heads to their feet
And, with parsley-scented breath, demanded something to eat.
I cast down a handful of Timothy Hay
And shook plastic bags to keep them at bay.
They drew back bewildered and for a moment did tarry.
Was this my escape from these overlords, hairy?
I got ready to run from the Galaxian glow
But there were so many, there was nowhere to go.

A stump of alfalfa Reggie held in his teeth,
The nuclear glow encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a red furry face and a little round belly
That knew well the joys of a vegetable deli.
He was chubby and plump and in excellent health
And I crumbled before him in spite of myself.

With a high wheeping cry and a twist of his head
Soon gave us to know we had much we should dread.
He spoke not a word but went straight to his work
And I, frozen before Reggie, felt like a jerk.
And stretching before him his odd shap-ed toes
Reggie (the veggie) to the mother-ship rose

He scanned the whole world, to his team gave a whistle
To their fresh conquered homes they flew like the down on a thistle
But Reggie exclaimed as he flew out of sight,
"We are your new overlords, we conquered you tonight!"

- Randall Newcomb
16-Dec-1996
Carpe Cavy!  (Seize the guinea pig!)

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Short Title: AltGuitarAmps(ElvisPaisley)

From: Lord Valve (detritus@ix.netcom.com)
Subject: A Blue Christmas for Elvis 
Newsgroups: alt.guitar.amps
Date: 2001-12-23 02:57:02 PST 

'Twas the night before Christmas and all 'round the house,
Lurched Elvis Paisley, drunk as a louse.
His tools were tossed near the bench without care,
And he sat there transfixed by his monitor's glare.

The amps were all burning, tubes turning red,
As paranoid visions danced through his head;
Ignoring the arcing and sparking and smoke,
He logged onto UseNet and started to toke.

As soon as the weed permeated his brain,
His one lonely neuron was showing the strain,
And he huffed and he puffed and he grimaced in pain
And he marshalled his minions and called them by name:

"On Timepix, on Cooper (I don't care which one)
We must fight the Vlave, he must be undone!"
And steadfast as Rommel, that gnarly old Hun,
Sallied foolishly forth, an Army of One.

His minions were useless; stagnant and tame,
The best they could manage were recycled flames
And he cursed and he howled and retreated in shame,
And he vowed he would write some new rules for the game.

"I'll call him a whore, I'll shorten his dick!
I'll drench him with smegma 'til everyone's sick!
I'll call him a redneck, an ignorant hick!
A gun-toting asshole Republican prick!"

From His throne up on high, as ruler of Earth,
Lord Valve did but smile, enjoying His mirth;
And waves of amusement encircled His girth
As He laughed down at Elvis, belittling his worth:

"Come now, junior, you know that's not true;
An output stage as unbalanced as you
Would sound just like crap, and sparks it would spew,
Sonic Slaughterhouse customers - terribly few!"

Elvis scampered and whimpered and beat a retreat,
Leaving large slimy tracks shaped like fat baboon feet
And we heard him exclaim as he ran down the street,
"Piss on you, Vlave, my ass is mincemeat!"

-Copyright Lord Valve, 12/23/01.  All rights reserved.-

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Short Title: AltMoviesMonsters

Subject:      MERRY KAIJU CHRISTMAS
From:         shyde@axionet.com (Stan G. Hyde)
Date:         1997/12/24
Message-ID:   
Newsgroups:   alt.movies.monster

MERRY CHRISTMAS to everybody on a.m.m.
At this time of the year maybe it's worthwhile reflecting on the fact that
regardless of how we feel about the American Godzilla, or which G-Con
we're partial to, we're all more alike than we are different.

Blessings of the season to all of you and your families
Hope you find a kaiju under the tree.

BEST Stan
(and forgive me for what follows . . .)

   An OGASAWARA ISLAND CHRISTMAS

  By Stan G. Hyde
  (with apologies to Clement Clarke Moore)

 Twas the Night before Christmas
 And on Monster Isle
 All the monsters were sleeping
 Godzilla and child

 Minila was tucked in
 by the volcano so warm
 dreaming of Ishiro
 He'd come to no harm

 Rodan's wings were folded
 He was cutting some Zzzzzs
 While Speiga was nestled
 In some web by the sea

 And old Gorosaurus
 Whose snout was so long
 Snored while he fantasized
 A rematch with King Kong

 When round the defenses
 There arose such a clatter
 I took up the helicopter
 To see what was the matter

 At first I suspected
 Good old SY3
 But the actual cause
 Was more startling to me

 For what do my wondering eyes
 Suddenly see
 But a right jolly old elf
 Whose sleigh flies o'er the sea

 He was dressed all in red,
 With a beard long and white
 And bright Fairy mothras
 pulled his sleigh through the night

 I knew in a moment
 Saint Nick had come through
 With a sackfull of toys
 For each dreaming Kaiju

 The Moths how they twinkled
 As they fluttered along
 Glittering brightly
 Dimly heard was a song

 "On Mosura on,
 Gee your glow's just jim-dandy
 Even Rudolph's bright nose
 Doesn't come in so handy.

 "Now Baragon, Angilius
 Ghidrah and Varan,
 I've got something for each of you
 Even Fire Rodan

 These presents have come
 From the children of Earth
 To the monsters they love
 The best creatures on Earth!"

 And then, in a twinking,
 the gifts did appear,
 One for each monster,
 that the children held dear.

 For Rodan there were dolphins,
 and Whales - just light snacks
 Boy, Saint Nick had a time
 Pulling them from his pack!

 Baragon got some polish
 To spruce up his spines
 Next time he'd be natty
 When he fought Frankenstein

 Ghidrah got hats,
 Three, one for each head
 And he chortled with glear
 That made the others feel dread

 Best of all, old Godzilla
 Got what was his due
 A huge card, signed by children
 Read "Big G we love you."

 For each dinosaur, mutant
 And strange monster god
 A special gift down to the island
 was brought

 Then quick as a blink
 With a twist of his head
 Saint Nick rocketed  into
 The dark night ahead.

 The moths trailed a rainbow
 Across the bright stars
 Perhaps he had more gifts
 for the Kilaks and Mars

 But I heard him exclaim
 as he passed through the night
 "Merry Christmas to the Kaiju
 Cause they're all outta sight!"

SGH - Christmas 1997

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Short Title: AltMusicPearlJam

From: sheri (noisycat@earthlink.net)
Subject: jettkarma's night before christmas 
Newsgroups: alt.music.pearl-jam
Date: 2001-12-24 07:16:18 PST 

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through our dive
no creatures were stirring, not even The Five.
PJ monogrammed crew socks hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that a new album would *somehow* find its way there!

The jammers were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of more high-quality, authorized bootlegs danced in their heads.
And papa in orange (a la Stone '96), and I in a wild, crushed-velvet Jeff-style cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a *glorious* clatter (Mike?), 
I sprang from my bed, my heart skipping a patter.
Away to the window, I flew like a witch
And tore open the shutters--instead of just flipping the light switch!
(Duh.  Well, y'all know me by now!)

The moon on the breast  of the new-fallen snow
Gave a luster of midday to objects below.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a miniature sleigh pulled by eight happy, unendangered reindeer.

With a cute little driver so peppery/petite,
I knew in a moment it must be that singer who really likes Pete!
More rapid than eagles, his curses they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called out these names:

"Now, Woodstock! now, Warped!, now HOB!,
and Ticket,... (cough!) Master
Scalpers, bootleggers, and censors,...bastards!,...
Every one of you,... FUCKERS!
You think we've got our eyes closed, but we're NOT uninformed suckers!!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the reindeer they flew,
With a sleigh full of joys, and that little guy, too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The pawing and prancing of each little hoof
(or maybe it was Matt--it's hard to say!).
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around
Down the chimney Ed came with a "Fuck!" and a bound.

He was dressed all in second-hand corduroy from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of  '45 singles he had flung on his back
And he looked a little like Santa while 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 his soul patch was bleached just as white as the snow;

The stump of his pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a kind little face and a sweet little belly
That shook, when he laughed, and like a bowl full of Jam--er, jelly.
:)

He was chummy and witty, a right jolly 36-year-old self,
And I Smiled when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know, except for his "language," I had nothing to dread.

He spoke words of wisdom as he went at his work,
And filled all the tube socks, then turned with a *jerk* 
 (should I make a Scott Stapp joke about now?),
And laying a finger aside of his nose,
Giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.

As he sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle (isn't that a gorgeous line?)
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Season's Greetings to all--remember to trade or to borrow!-- 
Take care of each other--And we'll see you tomorrow!!"

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Short Title: AltMusicPink-Floyd

Subject:      Another Xmas Story
From:         "K. & S. Cozy" 
Date:         1997/12/23
Message-ID:   <34A02EEC.4DCD@pacbell.net>
Newsgroups:   alt.music.pink-floyd

"A Visit From Saint Publius"
  or
"Twas The Night Before AMP-F"

Twas a night on the newsgroup
And all through the net
Not a person was posting
Not even jweb

The silent majority was lurking with care
In hopes an Enigma thread soon would be there

And Handy in New York
And I in L.A.
Had just agreed to do chat
On the following Sunday

When onto the net there arose such a fuss
I went to AMP-F to see what was up
Away to my browser I flew like a flash
Then had to reboot when my Macintosh crashed

When what to my wondering eyes did I see
But messages from Publius - and one just for me!
More rapid than spammings his postings they came
And we were flabbergasted when he called us by name.

"On Athena!  On Trevor!  On Cozy and Kyla!
"On Handy!  On Angus!  On Nichole and Danzka!
"Go to Dave Ward's page!  It is Publius who calls!
"Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!"

I regret to say that I cannot remember how the rest of the original poem
goes.  If anyone would like to take it from here, be my guest!

--

-K. Cozy

To send e-mail, please remove YOURPANTS.  Get it?  Remove your...oh,
never mind.

Floyd Code:  v1.2 r TW 5/0/pw+r+d Gfm 0- 0 Meddle 2 6

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Short Title: AltMusicRush

From: Al Kyder (superdrmralkyder@yahoo.com)
Subject: Merry Christmas to all my friends 
Newsgroups: alt.music.rush
Date: 2003-12-24 08:41:57 PST 

I'm feeling very spiritual right now. Maybe it's the eggnog. But
anyway, I want to wish all my close friends at AMR a very Merry
Christmas. Not Xmas. CHRISTmas. Let's all remember that.

Everyone come here for a big group hug. Lerxst, put those fire sticks
down first. And Gieger, you'll have to settle for a partial hug. I'm
only so big. Best wishes to all of you, even the brown savages. Let me
read you a poem I wrote while I am moved in this way.


'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, especially Iwerks, who was quite soused.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that the Rush in Rio DVD would soon be there, (in anamorphic format, no less);

Aimee G was nestled all snug in her bed,
Dreaming of fornicating with a sugar-coated Ged;
And ironcladlou with his Xbox and John with his NES,
Would get together tomorrow for a Quake fragfest,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed and went to the bathroom to empty my bladder.
Then away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters, and saw Max Webster smoking hash (the Godless crippled bastard).

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to Geiger eating Ho-Hos,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But Mike Smith wandering by with a beer.

When I saw these three guys in my yard, the dicks,
I said "Hey, get off of my grass, you little pricks!"
Then they hooted and hollered and called me a retard,
And Scott Culver came by and threw up in my yard.

"Now Culver! now, Geiger! now, Webster and anyone hiding!"
"Go the hell home before I give you a good smiting!"
"Off with you heathens!" And away they did peel.
I think the guy driving the Passat was Neil.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing some little poof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Drewe Manton 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 toys he had flung on his back,
And Rory as well, with a smelly garbage sack.

I chased them out, the two Limey fairies.
Rory dropped a wet diaper (must've been from Gary)
"Go eat a fried Mars Bar!" I yelled at the bums.
"I hope your arteries slam shut as tight as some drums!"

Prime Mover showed up with his Power Ranger toys
I sent him on his way to play with little boys.
Then Prof dropped by with his huge weird cock
That did it. I went to the nightstand and pulled out the Glock.

"Alright all you bastards!" I yelled from my loft.
"Clear the hell out before I blow your head off!"
With winks of their eyes and a twist of their heads
They scampered away to go back to their beds.

I was wide awake now, the thoughtless jerks
So I went to AMR to linger and lurk,
I was feeling guilty because I acted so shitty
So I decided to compose this small Christmas ditty.

If any of you are listening, I'm sorry I spazzed.
And I'm also sorry for anybody I razzed.
And so I exclaim, while I jam 'Fancy Dancer'
"HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL SOME ASS CANCER"

God Bless
Al Kyder


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Short Title: AltNYPDBlue

From: topcat (topcat@aboy.com)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.nypd-blue
Date: 2002-12-23 11:19:34 PST 

Condensed version :-)

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the group
Not a poster was posting, not one in our troop;
The mockings were done by Kurt Ridder with care,
In hopes that Art Vandelay soon he would scare;

The women were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of MPG danced in their heads;
Amanda, our group chief, and I in my NETS cap,
Had just settled down from our long winters spat,
When soon on our CRT's there arose such a chatter,
I sprang to the keyboard, acting like a mad hatter.

Away to the Blue group, I flew like a flash,
Tore open express and prayed for some cache.
The news on the screen spoke all about the best show
Not to mention some politics in a post just below

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But an ensemble cast, the eight we hold dear,
With a grumpy old leader, so surly and drip,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Sip.

More rapid than bullets the posters they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Homerrrr! now, Dreher! now, Elaine and TC!
Hi, Darrin! Hi Dina! Hi Donna and IPB!
To the top of the ratings! to the top of them all!
Now post away! post away! post away all!"

He then got real quiet, and went straight to his work,
Blue DVD's in our stockings; this Franz was no jerk,
Soon moving over by some fans he did sit,
For pictures with Kat as LRod threw a fit;

Then he sprang to his feet, to his cast gave a whistle,
And away they all flew looking hotter than a pistol.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."


TC - Merry Christmas, Happy New Year everybody (even those that have me killfiled! ;-)


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Short Title: AltPaganAnnoyingPoster


From: Alexandra Ceelie (netkitten@netzero.net)
Subject: Re: What are you doing for Yule? 
Newsgroups: alt.pagan
Date: 2002-11-23 17:37:25 PST 

Twas the night before Yuletide
And all through the group
Not a poster was posting,
('cept for trolls posting poop.)

Most of us snuggled
Out on the back lawn
While elders told old tales
And awaited the dawn

I (in my blankets and froze to my toes)
Remembered the story, and here's how it goes:

"One night on a newsgroup, far, far away
With nothing to do, and hell, nothing to say
A small meager being came into this place
It squawked with pure nonsense
We sighed in distaste...

"Of Nazi's, Of pagan's, Of witches, Of snits
On topic, off topic, and just full of shit
To the top of the post (or the bottom, if not)
Annoying the masses, the ignorant snot.

"Now, I like wine with dinner but not whine with cheese
Her Craft was the cheesiest (no seconds, please)
Quickly the newsgroup had all had their fill
But still meager lingered like yesterday's swill

"With our heads together we came up with a plot
A spell to get rid of this insipid snot
A red thread, a green thread, a white thread, a blue
Some grave dirt, a few nails, a worn out old shoe

"Meager started to tremble, a horrible state
She tried to kill file us but it was too late
More rapid than addicts hyped on crystal meth
She found herself faced with the Blue Screen of Death

"Type though she might, she just couldn't reboot
Thanks to that shoe firmly shoved up her snoot
A lesson was learned upon that fateful night
If you take up a flag you best take it up right"

As the sun started to rise, the tale came to an end
We heaved a deep sigh and thought, Never again.

For dealing with Witches is quite bad enough
But when they're net savvy, the playing gets rough
Before you post, think, if you have half a brain
Or you'll suffer the fate of the Meager inane.


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Short Title: AltRasap

From: Kevin Burke (KGBurke@webtv.net)
Subject: A Christmas Story (updated!) 
Newsgroups: alt.rasap
Date: 2002-12-20 17:45:19 PST 

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring except Male-Male, that LOUSE!
The stockings (Haines Mesh NeT - size 18) were hung by the space heater with care
In hopes that Ralph Lauren soon would be there.

David was resting strapped down in his bed
while John Jason was in the living room spending his bread.
When all of a sudden there arose such a clatter
Male-Male threw "Cuz" off the couch to see what was the matter.

When what to his coked out eyes did appear
but Captain Phil's trailer pulled by an ancient John Deere.
The fat balding elf was drunk off his butt
cursing and calling, "I LOVE YOU TRENT LOTT."

Male Male was dejected, all down in the mouth,
when suddenly he heard a voice from the house.
"I'm telling you David, it's all very true, that M Wear guy don't know where he's at
take it from Mew Mew, you now dead stuffed cat!"  

The Spirit went on and pointing right at his face
"He's evil and bad, your nut buddy Jase!"
"He's spent a year bugging Joey, Sweet Carol and Kevin
I tell you right now, He ain't going to Heaven."

His message delivered, his work here now done,
sweet Mew Mew took off and went on the run.  
His words last heard as quickly he did flee
"I gotta find me a bush and take a good pee.!"

Merry Christmas to all!


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Short Title: AltReligionBuddhism1

From: Kathy Ruby (ruby@erols.com)
Subject: ARBN Xmas 
Newsgroups: alt.religion.buddhism.nichiren
Date: 1998/12/24 

Twas the night before Christmas
Then just as we'd feared
A brief moment of silence
Then the Buddha appeared!

The Great Sage looked around
With a look on his face
Like whatever he saw
Was such a disgrace!

A look of displeasure!
Expressed his dismay ...
Internet Buddhists wished
We could just slink away!

He spoke to those present:
"Your actions just aren't
Filled with compassion.
Not from your true heart!

(Just one group has it right
With life conditions high!
Practicing for others ...
That group is SGI.)

But you others! Name-calling
Impersonations, and lies ...
All of it is awful!
You should apologize!

Bodhisattva spirit
Is seldom your role.
This newsgroup is really
A deep dark hell-hole!"

So saying, he turned
To depart with regret,
Until one tiny voice
Said: "You're right!  Yet ...

It's not what we post here
That changes our karma
Ranting can't do that
Nor will our dogma.

It's attitude toward others
Of compassion (or not!)
Whether through actions,
Words, or just thought.

Whether in real life
Or here on the Net,
Our own compassion is
The Buddha -- don't forget!"

Then the Buddha -- he paused
And the Buddha -- he smiled
"You've figured it out!"
And his voice was so mild.

"The Buddha's a condition
That you've already got.
Awaken yourself to it
And polish that spot.

How can you do that?
Practice the Law so true
And through knowing deep down
Others are Buddhas too!"

And in a bright twinkling
The Buddha quickly vanished
Leaving all the Buddhists
With just what they had wished!

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Short Title: AltReligionBuddhism2

From: Kathy Ruby (ruby@erols.com)
Subject: Xmas on ARBN 
Newsgroups: alt.religion.buddhism.nichiren
Date: 1999/12/25 
 
Twas the night before Xmas,
And all through the Net,
Not a creature was stirring,
Not even a virtual pet.

The scene in one newsgroup
Was particularly terrible;
A-R-B-N had been voted
"Newsgroup Unbearable".

Ostensibly Buddhist,
The group was in fact,
A venue for slander,
Without subtlety or tact.

Lawsuits were threatened!
Obscenities called!
It was easy too forget that
We're all linked by the Law.

So one Xmas night,
Nichiren suddenly appears,
And wherever he looked,
He saw hatred and fears.

And typical of Nichiren,
He had to speak out,
He had to chastise
His followers -- the louts!

"Each being is the Buddha --
I've said it so clear
Yet you've gotten it wrong
For year after year.

When you slander each other
You do harm to all
We are all connected
When one trips, we all fall."

A hubbub -- a frenzy
Of denial and blame
Came forth from the "Buddhists"
Howling, most untamed.

Nichiren's strong voice
Then emerged from the blather.
He said: "My believers should
Never abuse one another!"

In silence so crystalline
Nichiren did then depart
A-R-B-N denizens
Were struck to the heart.

The question, they realized,
Is how will they start
The new Millenium here ...
With what kind of heart?

************************************************************
************************************************************

Short Title: AltReligionBuddhism3

From: Kathy Ruby (kathyruby@yahoo.com)
Subject: The Night Before Xmas 
Newsgroups: alt.religion.buddhism.nichiren
Date: 2001-12-24 15:15:08 PST 

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the world
Not a soul was stirring -- and the flags were unfurled

In that corner of the Net -- all but forgotten
Was ARBN, land of the misbegotten

Things haven't changed much -- it all feels the same
Those speeches are posted again and again

D'you care what some priest wrote back in '86?
Craig has reposted it, with typos unfixed!

Reggie is still full of strange jargon and slang
I guess he's still busy -- quote -- "doing his thang"

DC's new idea is reunification
He thinks members want priest deification

Now Reggie's talking 'bout some statue he got
On EBay -- the source for new spiritual rot!

And speaking of EBay, our old buddy Bruce
Is holding a fire sale of stuff from his youth

He is unloading all his Nichiren books
And old photos of Elvis posing with crooks.

ARBN is a Neverland for these same old fools
They never want to grow up and live by adult rules.

It's easier to call names, tell lies, then distort
Than study, reason, then write out a true report.

Their childishness and churlishness carries on today
Even against those folks whose side you're on, you say!

So Greenie says that DC is being such a tool
And Reggie says of Cody: "I pity the fool."

Round and round the circle, they are chasing each other
Soon the boys will find they've all turned into butter! 

Is there a cure for such Internet lameness?
Being stuck in a rut that just reeks of sameness?

There might be a way to confound this strife:
Face the Gohonzon and look at your life.

It's written that significance can only be seen 
Through checking your actions as a human being.

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************************************************************

Short Title: AltReligionBuddhism4

From: Kathy Ruby (kathyruby@comcast.net)
Subject: The Real Night Before Xmas 
Newsgroups: alt.religion.buddhism.nichiren
Date: 2002-12-25 13:48:26 PST 
 
'Twas the night before Xmas, the Net is the same.
On arbn, the hoodlums are playing their games.
A new wrinkle this year is the "reformist" crew.
They've got off their duffs and done something true:

They've left SGI and they're telling us so. 
They thought through their options and decided to go.
It's refreshing, you know, to see someone try 
To match up their words with actions - Oh my!

But I'm sad to see them all leaving like lemmings,
Just to make do with email and IMing.
A sangha, to me, is the way we can win.
It gives us support through thick and through thin.

Being a member will never mean that
You agree with the Gakkai on this or on that.
It's safe here to say that our common ground 
Is the practice we share, the benefits we've found.

"Reformers" attempt to widen a fissure,
Trying to split open this third great Treasure.
Their so-called "reforms" just tried to defame
Our organization, to sully its name.

Their actions resulted in problems. So much,
That they started a new group of complainers and such.
Now these "reformers" are free to change all they like,
Alter their practice, add statues, and fight!

Most strangely, you see, now without SGI,
They're busy arguing each with the other guy!
The same thing holds true for our temple brothers.
Without the Gakkai, they feed on each other.

So the lesson, my friend, is the same as before.
It's time to wake up! To look at your core!
The Buddha's a condition that you've already got. 
Awaken yourself to it and polish that spot. 

How can you do that? Keep your practice true,
And know that, deep down, others are Buddhas too!


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************************************************************

Short Title: AltReligionScientology

From: Phineas (merry@christmas.com)
Subject: 'Twas the night before Christmas (eh eh).... 
Newsgroups: alt.religion.scientology
Date: 2002-12-20 00:37:38 PST 
 

'Twas the night before Christmas, I was body-routed to an Org.,
I encountered a Rondroid, or was it a Borg?
Hard to tell, ya know, that starry-eyed guy,
Who tried to tell me Hubbard never once told a lie.
He pointed to the preclears, all smug as they bought,
Something called "Total Freedom", for the price of a yacht.
And so the funny Rondroid, said he wanted my confession,
Said I got to pay, big time, got to get me "in session."

He sends me to a Reg, who said he went "clear".
"Then why's your brain on the floor," I said, "and your head in your rear?"
Precisely at that moment, he yelled "You must be an SP".
He said it was so 'cause the "tech" won't work on me.
"Well how would you know", I said, as he looked kind of lame,
He then explained that I've been declared "fair game".

Then out on the roof, we all heard a loud boom,
Crashing over everyone, he goose-stepped into our room.
He was tall, had red hair, and squinty blue eyes,
"Could this be the fellow," I thought, "who wrote all those lies?"
And everyone on staff, amazed, all came and gazed at him,
And all to whom, he replied, "The situation is grim".
"But how could this be," they shouted, "You are the supreme thetan!"
"Well, I gotta little withhold, you see, I am actually Satan."

Wouldn't you know old man Hubbard, so lively and quick,
Said he knew he was, in a past life, jolly St. Nick.
"But this time around," he said, " I employ nubile teens,"
"Hay's a lot more expensive, you see, than SO's rice and beans".
"Sure I'm makin' millions, but you don't need any dough,
Cause you got the 'bridge', unless, of course, you decide to blow."
"And if you do, don't you ever frown,
Cause I got Lawyers, OSA and PI's , who will hunt you down."

"Now Kobrin, with Moxon,
With Rathbun and Rinder,
With Ava and Rathbun,
And Mithoff behind her,

It's gonna be accusations, innuendo, and depositions aglow,
Cause I got my very own private, Babalon Ho."

"Let us celebrate, have one big litigious ball!
Now sue away! Sue away,
Into oblivion, them all!"

His eyes--how they crinkled ! His lips like red flares!
"I will attack Psychs and suppressives, and anyone who dares
Mention my name, my church, and my creed,
With a disparaging word, I'll sue you till you bleed".

Then he sprang to his sleigh, to his nubile team he cracked a whip,
And away they all sailed faster than a Sea Org ship.
But I heard him exclaim, "Don't tell anyone Scientology's a prank
And that Christmas really is part of the R6 Bank"

Humbly Tendered,
 Phineas Fogg


************************************************************
************************************************************

Short Title: AltRomance

   Author:   Muttley the Wonder Dog
   Email: mutt_one@bellsouth.net
   Date: 1998/12/24
   Forums: alt.romance, alt.teens, soc.singles

Twas The Night Before Christmas (A.R. style)
By Muttley

Twas the night before Christmas, and on alt.romance
All the netters were quiet, even JP and Chance.
Our messages had all been sent out with care,
In hopes that our love would flow out through the air.

The alt.teens were nestled all snug in their beds,
With of their piercings still in their heads.
With Peanut in daydream, and Mutt in his hate,
They'd just settled into a nice long debate.
When out of the bandwidth there arose such a clatter
We clicked on our screens to see what was the matter.

Away to IRC shot my mouse like a fiend,
I watched the URL fill up my screen.
The keyboard was lit by the monitor's glow,
Giving luster of Hades to objects below.
When what, to my wandering eye should appear,
A graphical version of a guy with reindeer!

The fat bearded man who held on the reins,
Had no illusions that we knew all his names.
The pixels exploded as he flew 'round the screen,
And he called out our names, voice ever so keen!

Come Jackie, come Muttley, come Aaron, Peanut
Come look in by bag, and look what I brought!
Come Portia, come DH, come JP and Ray!
Come out and celebrate this special day!

We gathered around, our mouths open wide,
Our amazement at this we just couldn't hide.
He handed out presents, calling us all by name,
And winked as we took them - like it was some sort of game.

For Aaron perspective, for Muttley a heart,
For JP his one wish - a respectful tart!
For Jackie some manners, for DH some peace,
For Ray a secretary, who isn't a tease.

One by one our presents we got,
We were all warm and fuzzy, and so lost in thought.
We had got what we wanted, the thing we hold dear,
The things we had missed out on because of fear.
And then on our screens, with a brilliant bright light,
We saw, "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"

Merry Christmas everyone. Enjoy.
--
"It's a bittersweet symphony this life.
Try to make ends meet, try to find somebody
then you die."
-The Verve, "Bittersweet Symphony"

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************************************************************

Short Title: AltSlackXDay1

Subject:      'Twas the night before X-day
From:         cuthulu@rlabs.com (cuthulu)
Date:         1996/12/25
Message-ID:   <32c5ca28.80182586@news.alterdial.uu.net>
Newsgroups:   alt.slack

'Twas the night before X-day

It was the night before X-Day, and all through the clench,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a finch;

The pipes were hung from our lips with care, In hopes that "Bob" Dobbs soon
would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds, 
While visions of saucers danced in their heads; 
And Mama in her leather and I in my lace, 
Had just settled down for a summer's embrace.

When out in the driveway a sickening sound, 
I sprang from my bed to see hell rain down. 
Away to the window I flew like a flash, 
Tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash.

The moon on the dew of the newly-mown grass, 
Gave the luster of midday to objects in my ass, 
When what 'fore my wond'ring eyes should sashay, 
But a miniature saucer, and eight tiny greys.

With a smoking, smiling driver, so manly on the job, 
I knew in a moment it must be "Bob" Dobbs. 
More rapid than eagles his saucers they came, 
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name: 

"Now, Meatloaf! Now, Dyna!, Now Lynch and Tarla! 
On, Lou! On, Jack!, On, Carey and Fucknutz! 
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall! 
Now blast away! blast away! Blast away all!!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, 
so the pinks they were wasted, blown to the sky. 
Up to the housetop the saucers they flew, 
With a bomb bay full of death, and habzifropulopuolos, too.

And then in a twinkling, I heard in the street, 
The dancing of sex slaves and alien succubi in heat. 
As I drew in my head, and was turning around, 
I saw a vast cloud mushroom downtown.

"Bob" was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, 
and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot. 
A skein of pink scalps he had flung on his back, 
and he looked like a Ghengis Khan at the front of his pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! His pipe, how merry! 
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! 
His grinning mouth was drawn up like a bow, 
And the pipe in his mouth sang as it glowed;

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 wasted all the neighbors, then turned with a jerk, 
And laying a finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, into his saucer he rose;

He sprang to the controls, to his squad gave a whistle, 
And away they all flew like a sidewinder missile. 
But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight, 
"Happy X-Day to All! And to all a good fight!"

____________      '**'     ____________
\___________\www.rlabs.com/___________/
  \_________  Kevan Smith  _________/
    \_______ s___l___a___k _______/


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Short Title: AltSlackXDay2

Subject:      Twas the Night Before X-Day
From:         sbjohnston@aol.com (SBJohnston)
Date:         1996/12/21
Message-ID:   <19961221172800.MAA27869@ladder01.news.aol.com>
Newsgroups:   alt.slack

The Night Before X-Day
by The Reverend Doktor S-bo

'Twas the night before X-Day when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

The argyles were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that "Bob" Dobbs soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Slack danced in their heads,

And Mamma in her jammies and I in her muff
Had just settled down for some fun in the buff.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed 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 radiation-glow from the new-fallen dust
was such a terrible sight it dampened my lust.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a gigantic flying auto, eight cylinders, high gear;

With a square-jawed, young driver, intent on his job,
I knew in a moment it must be ole "Bob"!

On the seat next to him sat his eager young dame,
And he whistled at her, and called her by name.

Now, Connie, you Vixen! you Prancer! you Dancer!
Oh, let me go, Cupid, you'll make me go crash 'er.

From the top of the porch, and right through the wall,
"Bob"'s car smashed away, smashed away, smashed away all!

In the process of landing, my house he did wreck,
Said "Bob", " Sorry 'bout that, I'll write you a check."

From next door came a bellow "Keep that junk off my lawn!"
"Shut up, Pink Boy," answered "Bob", "you Conspiracy pawn."

And then in a twinkle, I heard on the roof
the prancing of wingtips: 'twas "Bob" on the hoof.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down came Dobbs with a jump, and a bound.

He was dressed nattily, from his head to his foot,
But his clothes were covered with ashes and soot;

His eyes how they twinkled! his brows how they arched!,
His cheekbones so prominent, his shirt likely starched.

His droll grinning mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the widow's-peak on his forehead was coiffed ah, just so.

The proudest of pipes he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath.

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

He pawed at some paper he'd pulled from his flaps,
And held them up high, like a gambler at craps.

He passed me the tickets:  "Saucers, First Class".
Oh, joy, thought I, it's the Rupture, at last!

And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up to his auto he rose.

He sprang to his machine, to his wife gave a whistle,
And away they both flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,
"Repent, and Slack off;  till tomorrow, good night!"

--------
Steve    The Reverend Doktor S-bo    sbjohnston@aol.com
The kindly bi-valve.
--------

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Short Title: AltSmokersCigars

   Forum: alt.smokers.cigars
   Subject:  Twas The Night Before Secret Santa
   Date: 12/07/1999
   Author: AT 
   
   Twas the night before SS and all through the net
   ASCers were talking about what they would get

   Our email from Matt was checked daily with care
   In hopes that our parters address would be there
   
   Come Padron, and Fuente, and Cuban delights!
   Don't send Tetons or Big Butts or Te Amo's alright?
   
   When finally the fateful day had now come
   Reading my email was never such fun
   
   I ran to the Post Office without any delay
   while pushing and shoving poor soles in my way
   
   I mailed off my stogies as I knew that I should
   While my visions of island sticks seem so darn good
   
   Bless all the Secret Santa's and the smokes that they light
   Have a great holiday season, and to all a good night!

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************************************************************

Short Title: AltSmokersPipes

From: Jeff Folloder (jeff@notthisfolloder.com)
Subject: The Day Before Christmas 
Newsgroups: alt.smokers.pipes
Date: 2001-12-24 08:58:27 PST 

'Twas the day before Christmas
  And all through the cave
Not a shred of tobaccy
  I'm starting to rave!

All my pipes they were lonely
  How I needed a smoke
As far as the weed
  You know I was just broke.

To the store I must go
  To recharge the supplies
Might as well bring extra pipes
  To share with the guys!

On Talbert, on Tinsky
  On Paul Bonaquisti!
On Duhill, on Matzhold,
  On Lindner and Viprati!

This time of year
  There's no one who's naughty!
On Ashton, Don Carlos, and Claudio Cavicchi!
  It's time for celebration and some pipers they need me.

And lo, though I'd want
  To share with all.
My sleigh just can't insure
  That I'd manage such gall.

So instead I would wish,
  for all of you
That that each of your wishes
  Would surely come true.

We are all truly blessed
  This time of year
May your hearts overflow
  With warmth and good cheer.

--
G.B.A.
Jeff Folloder
"I wouldn't say I drink a lot. But I wouldn't
  say I drink a little, either." -Frank Sinatra

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Last Modified January 7, 2007