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Dec 15 2012

Twas the Night Before Christmas Gets Censored

To expunge all remnants of political correctness, every corner of our culture needs to be examined and purified. For example, the Christmas classic “Twas the Night Before Christmas” has been found to include a thought crime. Don’t worry, Winston Smith at the Ministry of Truth revised the poem. If you own a print version, take care to cross out the following lines:

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

Also, a note is to be added to the back of the book making clear that the fur on Santa’s outfit is faux. Stay tuned for further alerts, lest you inadvertently expose children to forbidden remnants of the incorrect past.

In the end, the Thought Police will probably conclude that it is more efficient to ban Christmas altogether. Kwanzaa will be offered as a politically wholesome replacement.

santa-pipe
Tear out these pages and burn them.

Hat tip: I’m 41.

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  • Spider

    “Political correctness is a far greater threat to our freedom and liberty than is terrorism…”

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  • Smertypants

    Here is a version they would never censor:
    As he suctioned the brain from a baby unneeded
    He shouted ” the rights of a woman must be unimpeded!!

  • Tchhht!!!

    Well, you need to remove the picture too. The smoke above his head might be misconstrued to be a halo. /sarc

  • AC

    Here’s a version more suited for the age of Obamunism:

    Twas the night before Marxmas, and all through the grad,
    Not a worker was working; the market’s too bad.
    The stockings were empty and that’s how they’d stay,
    Because presents were rationed and coal went away.

    The children were thinking of the people’s school,
    Where they praise Comrade Chairman because that was the rule.
    Momma was trying for kid number six,
    To bump up her check and pay for her fix.

    When out in the Square there arose such a clatter,
    Was another spy caught? What could be the matter?
    I expected to see another traitor denounced,
    But instead, a man, his beard quite pronounced.

    The moon shone bright on the snow on each home,
    Global warming had chilled us, right down to the bone.
    When, what my wandering eyes did see,
    Was a detachment of men from the NKVD!

    With a full bearded leader, his face not quite dark,
    I knew in a moment it was Comrade Marx!
    More rapid than eagles his enforcers came,
    They knocked on my door and demanded my name.

    They yelled “Open up, Comrade!” in their angry tone,
    Suspicious that Bibles might be in my home.
    They kicked in the door and what did they see,
    But a computer, its browser, on Moonbattery!

    I said, “My neighbor, he did that, if you want to know.”
    “Me, myself, I love Barry O!”
    “For him? I cast ballots at least counting eight.”
    “My neighbor? Likes Limbaugh, and thinks he is great.”

    His Tok, how it twinkled, his men, how they stared,
    Looking at nothing, the whole flat was bare.
    He said, “Well done, comrade!” with a pleasing tone,
    “We go roust that bagger right out of his home.”

    “Your word is enough, all charges will hold.”
    “Traitor be shipped down Siberian road.”
    “For praying to Jesus and clinging to guns.”
    “And keeping money he make from business which runs.”

    “For voting for Mitt and LTC West.”
    “We shall give this traitor his much needed rest!”
    With a snap of his fingers he beckoned his guard,
    But not before filling my EBT card.

    They spoke not a word as they went to work,
    As they kicked in the door and arrested the jerk.
    Handcuffed and bleeding, and dragged out in fright,
    And thrown into trunk in middle of night.

    He sprang to his ZIL, and put it in gear,
    Taking Yankee away to just disappear.
    But I heard him exclaim, just as off he drove,
    “Merry Marxmas to all, and stay poor, dear tov.!”

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  • Ghost of FA Hayek

    They kicked in the door and what did they see,
    But a computer, its browser, on Moonbattery!
    —–
    I was curious whether this was yours until I got to this line.
    Very good AC.

  • Rob Banks

    Wus da night afo’ Crizzmus, and all thru da hood,
    everybody be sleepin’ and da sleepin’ be good.

    We hunged up our stockins, an hoped like all heck,
    dat Obama gunna brang us our Chrizzmus check.

    All of da family, was layin’ on da flo’,
    my sister wif her gurlfriend, my brother wif some ho.

    Ashtrays was all full, empty beer cans and KFC slaw,
    when I heared such a fuss, I thunk….”Sh’eet, must be da law”.

    I pulled the sheet offa da window to see what I’ze could see,
    I was spectin’ the sherrif, wif a warrent fo’ me.

    But what did I see, made me say, “Lawd look at dat!”
    Dere was a huge watermelon, pulled by eight big-ass rats.

    Now ovah da years, Santy Claws he be white,
    but it looks like us brotha’s, got a black un’ tonight .

    Faster than a poe’lice car, my homeboy he came,
    and whupped up on dem rats, as he called dem by name.

    On Biden, On Jessie, On Pelosi and Hillary Who,
    On Fannie, On Freddie, On Ayers, and Slick Willy too.

    Obama landed dat melon, right dare in da skreet,
    I knowed it fo’ sho’, – can you believe that Sheet?

    Dat Santy didn’t need no chimley, he picked da lock on my do’,
    an I sez to myself, “Son o’ bitch..he don did dis befo!”

    He had a big bag, full of presents – at first I suspeck?
    Wif “Air Jordans” and fake gold, to wear roun’ my neck.

    But he left me no presents, just started stealin my shit.
    He got my guns and my crack, and my new burglers kit.

    Den, wif my shit in his bag, out da windo’ he flew,
    I sho’ woulda shanked him, but he snagged my blade too!

    He jumped back on dat melon, wif out even a hitch,
    and waz gone in two seconds, da democrat sonofabitch.

    So nex year I be hopin’, a white Santy we git,
    ’cause a black Santy Claws, just ain’t worf a shit!

  • the man

    KWANZAA IS SOMETHING THAT THE NIGGERS MADE UP IN THE 60′S

  • Bob Roberts

    the man says: December 15, 2012 at 12:46 pm
    —————–
    While true that it was “made up”, you really need to find a better, more appropriate way to express yourself.

    On KWANZAA:

    BLACKS IN AMERICA have suffered an endless series of insults and degradations, the latest of which goes by the name of Kwanzaa.
    Ron Karenga (aka Dr. Maulana Ron Karenga) invented the seven-day feast (Dec. 26-Jan. 1) in 1966, branding it a black alternative to Christmas. The idea was to celebrate the end of what he considered the Christmas-season exploitation of African Americans.

    According to the official Kwanzaa Web site, the celebration was designed to foster “conditions that would enhance the revolutionary social change for the masses of Black Americans” and provide a “reassessment, reclaiming, recommitment, remembrance, retrieval, resumption, resurrection and rejuvenation of those principles (Way of Life) utilized by Black Americans’ ancestors.”

    ————–
    Yeah, the same black Americans’ ancestors who would engage in tribal warfare, slaughter randomly (think Hutu and Tutsi) just because you’re in a different tribe, then gather up whoever is still alive and sell them into slavery.

    Worked real well for Africa – which begs the question:

    Why is it that since we have anthropologic and DNA evidence humans first came into existence in Africa, they are still today so backward there? Anyone? They’ve had the longest time and the most opportunities to make something of themselves, yet they are still engaging in essentially tribal slaughters over and over.

  • dave

    These leftists never fuck with any other religions makes me sick. If you voted for obummer. for Christmas you can fuck your self with a spiked
    metel baseball bat. And for new years you can take a seat on a broken Tabasco bottle you basterds.

  • Jester

    The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
    And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath

    Eventually leftists will add the word marijuana before pipe and this stanza will be returned to the text with endless cheers and praises from the media.

  • St. Gilbert

    @ Tchhht!!!

    “Santa Claus, of course, is only St. Nicholas, the patron saint of children; but he has, in some ways, become more of a goblin than a saint. There have been many thousands of Christmas cards and Christmas books printed to depict him; and I doubt whether five of them depict him with a halo.”
    – G.K. Chesterton (Illustrated London News, January 7, 1911)

  • Eric

    Clement Clark Moore (1779-1863)

    Twas the Night Before Christmas (A Visit from St. Nicholas)
    The first publication date was 23rd December 1823 and it was an immediate success. It was not until 1844 that Clement Clarke Moore claimed ownership when the work was included in a book of his poetry.

  • Eric

    Clement Clarke Moore (1799 – 1863) came from a prominent family and his father Benjamin Moore was the Bishop of New York who was famous for officiating at the inauguration of George Washington.

  • Jessica Arrington

    Black progressives have been complaining that Kwaanza has lost it’s appeal to black Americans, who are notoriously Christian. Looks like PC progressives and black muslims are the only African Americans observing the anti-Christ “holiday” created to “interrupt” the Christmas season.

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