No aspect of our lives will be left untouched by Obama’s fundamental transformation of America. As we have seen, not even classics like “Twas the Night Before Christmas” are off limits from liberal reformers. Here is a new version of the poem for the Age of Obama, compliments of AC:
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 makes from a business that 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 a trunk in the middle of the night.
He sprang to his ZIL, and put it in gear,
Taking my neighbor away to just disappear.
But I heard him exclaim, just as off he drove,
“Merry Marxmas to all, and stay poor, dear tov!”