The Social Reindeer Saga

The Social Reindeer Saga

‘Twas a few days or so before Christmas,

And Santa was hiding from a certain reindeer.

Though ordinarily a good friend and coworker,

Lately, Rudolph had been a drain on holiday cheer.

Pacing amidst a never-ending labyrinth

Of toy packaging, manufacturing, and assembly lines,

Santa muttered to himself furtively,

While distractedly counting gifts by the nines.

“It all started when he went Social,”

Santa complained quietly to the world at large.

The nearest quality inspection elf

Rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the man in charge.

“First it was only stuff like Facebook,

Used to keep in touch with the penguins down south,

Then he joined Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat,

And other things that had him frothing at the mouth.

I knew from the start that this wouldn’t end well.

Before he was joyfully tap-dancing from roof to roof,

But then he got it in his head to be modern,

And the team chipped in for a phone operated by hoof.

Only now do we see the consequences,

And the damage has already been done.

He’s become paranoid, narcissistic,

And has really become a lot less fun.

He won’t eat a meal without photographing it first,

Even though his diet is mostly just leaves and moss.

People have started believing he’s a botanist,

While he argues that any non-lichen food is a loss.

And I do fear that being this connected,

Has really gone straight to his head.

A talking reindeer is bound to be popular,

Even without a nose that glows bright red.

He’s been approached by the powers that be,

Corporations of every kind and every creed,

Wanted to place samples of their products,

In every nook and cranny of his social feed.

He claims that it’s really all about self-expression,

Freedom of speech and all that stuff,

Though when China complained about his panda rant,

He took down the post quickly enough.

And the ideas he’s been hearing about Christmas

Are really very worrying to say the least,

He thinks cyber-surveillance and big data can solve

The naughty and nice list from west to east.

I understand that it might in some ways be practical,

And possibly the most efficient way to get things done.

Yet it might land us on the wrong side of that list,

And besides – sometimes the older ways are more fun.”

It was then that the very reindeer in question,

Peeked in with the forlorn look of a guilt-ridden thief.

The elf noticed, and jerked her head towards Santa,

Inwardly breathing a long and heavy sigh of relief.

Seeing that a conversation was in order,

Santa tried to stifle a loud and annoyed sniff.

He followed Rudolph to his office,

And then waited patiently with his beard held stiff.

“It’s like this,” started Rudolph apologetically,

“I know that being this connected hasn’t been good.

But I’m convinced that there’s a lot that we can do,

And even some things that we absolutely should.

Most years, you complain non-stop about the world,

Of chaos, fanaticism, corruption and strife.

Which I’ve started to really discover this year,

Amidst the complex wonder of everyday life.

I’ll admit that I’ve gotten a little lost,

But I have some thoughts that I really want to share.

And I promise to really think them through.

None of that ‘follow and retweet for presents’ affair.

Besides, you’ve always talked about

The absolute necessity of change.

We’ve got to look at all the options

If we want Christmas to have more range.

Sure, while it’s certainly not ideal

To tweet and shout into the endless Void,

Perhaps, instead, we could just listen,

And try not to get irrationally annoyed?

Right now, across countries the world over,

There are people trying to be heard.

And if authoritarian net blackouts continue

It may just be their very last word.”

Santa considered all this with a ponderous silence,

While Rudolph nervously twitched his stubby tail.

“All right,” said Santa with a hefty sigh.

“I daresay it can’t be worse than Christmas email.

We do need to be involved,

And aware of what people really need.

That is certainly important,

When plotting one’s next good deed.

We have to be prepared for all the calamities to come.

Between nationalist nonsense and baby Yoda memes,

To the growing range of climate change threats –

Fires, floods, blizzards and more extremes.

We certainly can’t trust the humans to fix things,

Since most of their leaders just shout obscenities into their mic,

And the only ones to make any sense at all,

Are complete odd-bods such as Swedish teenagers and the like.”

So the two went to work on a yuletide social media plan,

To listen to the online pulse of the world as best they could,

And perhaps use the Internet as it had been intended –

To reach out, to listen with open minds, and even do some good.

So this Christmas, if you do so happen to find

Yourself sharing or shouting into the endless digital world,

Know that you’re not alone, and for better or worse,

There’s at least one reindeer listening with ears unfurled.

The Noel Conspiracy

The Noel Conspiracy

‘Twas about four days before Christmas,

And Santa was hiding away under his bed,

That is to say – beneath the trapdoor that

Concealed his secret workshop and sleigh shed.

He was watching his many security monitors

With a paranoid gleam on his round and bearded face,

While setting out various items on a workbench,

Including a stun-gun, brass-knuckles and a can of mace.

He was mumbling and muttering to himself,

While drinking tea and trying to keep awake.

The last few weeks had been troubling,

And he was sure that he wasn’t making a mistake.

“They’re out to get me!” he declared,

In tones both sonorous and dramatic.

But then followed that by spilling some tea,

Which was honestly quite anticlimactic.

“Drones have been flying past for weeks now.

And there have been disturbances in the workshop.

And just three days ago, the head custodial elf

Said he had to chase away an intruder with a mop!

It’s bad enough that I’m told

That in around twelve years I’ll be out of a job,

What with the world we know ending

And humanity reduced to an angry and scared mob.

But do the countries of the world see the science,

Take note of the dangers and choose to act?

Or do they sit around for ages squabbling,

While declaring gut feelings as truth and fact?”

Santa drained his cup and set it aside,

Moving to one corner of his secret lair.

He rummaged through a pile of discarded toys,

Extracting a belt of tools that he kept there.

“This is all because of the petition I submitted,”

He muttered as his next steps he began to prepare.

“I tried to tell the UN about the arctic ice issues.

But they called me biased, which really isn’t fair.

It’s not just the workshop and my home

That I’m trying unsuccessfully to save.

But there’s a whole Elven nation here,

Filled with people, both strange and brave.

Since then, I am absolutely, positively certain,

(I’d swear to it by my favorite pair of moccasins)

That certain unsavoury governments of the world,

Have dispatched towards me – a squad of assassins.”

There was a sound from another corner,

A long sigh from the other occupant of the shed.

Rudolph yawned widely as he emerged from slumber,

He stood up, blinking his nose and raising his head.

He moved to stand quite strategically,

Between Santa and his trusted (if very temperamental) sleigh,

So that the old man couldn’t follow through

On his plans to arm the vehicle to the teeth for Christmas Day.

“You’re just being paranoid,”

He said soothingly to calm the mood.

“You’ve been overworked, is all.

Just get some sleep and have some food.”

“How can you say that?” grumbled Santa,

“Humanity has clearly gone all sorts of insane.

Between trade wars and actual wars,

And this nationalism disease affecting their brain.

It seems that they’re trying to stop global warming,

With disagreements leading to a nuclear winter instead.

And they’re no longer happy with green Christmas trees.

I have no idea what’s happening in their collective head.

And the letters I’ve been getting,

Which normally fill me with joy and cheer,

Have been getting darker and stranger,

And it does not bode well for Christmas this year.

I’ve had children by the thousands asking

If I could reunite them with their families,

Or asking if I can stop wars or save areas from

Floods, fires, and all sorts of calamities.

And some of these letters, I’d definitely swear,

Were absolutely not written by actual children at all.

Requests for polonium and bonesaws for example,

And this one apparent toddler who keeps asking for a wall.

Most governments see me as a Christmas trespasser –

An illegal alien to be shown swiftly to the exit door.

Though between political dysfunction and outright shutdowns,

I can slip through with them being none the wiser for.”

“Come now. It’s not all bad,” said Rudolph,

Seeing that his boss was finally running out of steam.

“Even if they’re all mad and out to get you,

We’ve got a job to do, protecting every hope and every dream.

Sure the world may be burning, 

But at least they’re all regularly talking about it now.

And some at least, aren’t fighting,

But working to fix the problems and explaining the how.

Putting aside the sheer amount of chaos and insanity,

There are at least a handful or two of positive trends,

There’s peace in the Koreas (though by accident, perhaps)

And in India, LGBTQ people can legally be more than friends.

In Japan, the borders are opening,

And they’ve even invited the elves to immigrate,

(Though what with their longevity,

I fear it may not really help their low birth rate)

Renewable energy is on a clear and increasing rise 

And seems to finally be more than a fad,

And this whole crypto-currency mania seems to be done with.

Really, that nonsense was quite completely mad.

And while disaster has killed countless,

It has always been met with resolve quite brave,

And there was even that feel-good story,

When they got those kids in Thailand out of that cave.

Even in places such as the United States, 

What with their recent reversion to the past,

Seems to have turned a sensible corner,

And at least started listening to women at last.

And even if all fails and civilization ends,”

Said Rudolph with a confident and slightly cocky smile.

“We change our business model to purely humanitarian aid,

And try to keep hope alive, even if just for a while.”

“All right, all right,” said Santa with exasperation,

Putting away his tools and plans for arming the sleigh.

“Even if it does mean risking my life and limb,

We’ll continue on doing things the right and proper way.

But that doesn’t mean I won’t be prepared,”

He went on with a gleam in his eye.

“Just because I’m supposed to cheerful and jolly,

Does not mean that I’m prepared to die.”

So quickly and surely Santa laid out his plan,

While Rudolph listened to it all with a skeptical stare.

And so it was decided to bring in some help,

From the Elven Nation, whose space they happened to share.

So this Christmas, in a world filled with fear,

Hearken to sleigh-bells flying though the cool night,

Seemingly unafraid of hidden assassins,

And cloaked in a warm (and slightly hard to see) light.

Set out a welcome for Santa – the new Elven Ambassador,

Tasked to bring hope to every nation and community,

Clad in a mixture of optimism, mirth, cheer and above all,

A very hefty dose of diplomatic immunity.

The Tale Of Whitebeard

The Tale Of Whitebeard

‘Twas a week and a half before Christmas,

And Santa appeared lost at sea,

While some might take this is a metaphor,

This was meant quite literally.

He’d been missing for three days now,

After testing out his new amphibious sleigh.

(What with rising water levels all around

He knew he had to be prepared for the day)

In his absence, Rudolph took charge,

Conducting the search, and keeping everyone in the know.

Transparency was very important to him;

He didn’t want anyone mistaking this for a coup or an overthrow.

The Arctic listening posts were activated,

And the search teams of polar bears and seals organized one-by-one,

(There were not as many as Rudolph would have liked,

They were fast becoming endangered by a little too much heat and sun)

He even called up the penguins,

All the way on the other side of the world,

Who were rather rude and unhelpful,

And said: “If he were here, we would have heard.”

It was finally a narwhal that found him,

While swimming swiftly through the frigid Arctic sea,

“There’s a problem,” came the message to Rudolph.

“The sleigh’s still afloat, but he says to leave him be.

He’s had it with Christmas, he says,

And believes the sleigh’s breakdown to be a sign,

A perfect excuse to take the year off,

To simply float around on the currents and whine.”

“Honestly,” groaned Rudolph, shaking his horns,

And swiftly and speedily taking to the clear blue skies,

“The amount of maintenance this boss takes – 

The new ideas, the therapy, the freshly baked pork pies!

His misanthropy is getting worse with every year.

It’s almost more trouble than it’s worth.

I have to keep reminding him it’s for the children,

And the need to create joy and mirth.”

Still Rudolph was relieved, even as he complained,

Speeding faster through the sky than a bat out of hell,

The fact that Santa was grumbling and groaning,

Was a perfectly good sign that he was alive and well.

He finally reached the amphibious sleigh,

Now parked and anchored near a lonely ice floe,

Rudolph flashed his nasal landing light,

And finally cooled his hooves in the snow.

“Time to go to work, Boss,”

He said firmly, but with a good dose of cheer,

“Let’s get this sleigh all fixed up,

And load it up for Christmas this year.”

“I really can’t see what the point of it all is,”

Said Santa, turning and grumpily glaring at the reindeer.

“It’s a far better way to spend Christmas floating,

Than plunge back into the world with all its hate and fear.

I really thought things were getting better,

What with technology and awareness, and basic human rights,

But suddenly people who miss the dark ages are

Coming out of the woodwork and getting into ridiculous fights.

You’d think with all that humans have to attend,

Between hurricanes and earthquakes and wildfires galore,

They wouldn’t have time for pettiness and bickering,

But instead there’s nationalism, sexism, racism, and more!

Christmas delivery is impossible if you think about it.

Every year I’ve delivered to all from east to west,

But I’m told that I can’t visit certain countries anymore,

Without putting some inane travel ban to the test.

I don’t even know how many nations there are on any given day.

Between referendums and invasions, and actual civil war.

None of this politicking nonsense and neighborly strife,

Was written anywhere in the original Chrismas lore.

I’ve generally tried to stay absolutely neutral,

To religion, ideology, country, or creed.

To celebrate a day with presents and warmth,

And a momentary absence of any greed.

Though there really is a war on me and Christmas,” he said darkly,

“My summer home is in ruins, falling through melting ice into a hole.

But when I try and get someone to listen and do something about it,

They ignore me completely, and these idiots just keep on burning coal!

And then they make arguments about who exactly I am,

Their fixation on me being old, white, and fat is tragic,

Through the years I’ve been every age, weight, and skin color.

Don’t they understand – it’s all part of being magic!

Honestly, if belief allowed, I’d be a woman next year,”

He said with a despairing sort of sigh,

“Christmas might be better,” he said, “And after all,

If the Doctor can do it, why can’t I?”

“I’m all for it, boss,” said Rudolph,

Fixing the sleigh with both exasperation and amused glee.

Letting Santa rant as he worked,

Was his very own version of yuletide psychotherapy.

“But you’ve got to keep your hopes up, boss,”

He said, his furry face beaming with a slighlty forced smile

“Every Christmas we improve in small but significant ways,

We talk, argue and make things better by an inch or a mile.

And everyone who dreams of better days,

Sometimes only needs a sort of sample,

Of fairness, equality, and kindness,

And your workshop is a good example.

We’ve always had equal hiring on the species front,

Goblins, gnomes, elves, of every color and nationality,

(Though preventing genocide on the workshop floor,

Has become an unfortunately necessary speciality.)

We’ve had equal pay for all genders for two centuries now,

Though, yes, there are still some things that need fixing,

But look how things like reindeer morale have improved,

Especially since you fired Dancer for harassing Blitzen.

Now, I understand Christmas is stressful for you,

It’s nonstop work, while always being on the run,

But I’ve got a great idea of how to make things interesting,

To skirt around human politics and really have fun.”

So Santa listened carefully to Rudolph’s plan,

While the sleigh hummed and roared back to life,

And started cruising through the water,

On a voyage for Christmas, circumventing strife.

Santa was equipped with an eye-patch, a parrot,

And a crew for his now seaworthy sleigh/boat,

And cannons to fire presents very precisely from

International waters, where he can safely float. 

So from ocean to ocean, drifting this Christmas night,

Beware of a new winter pirate, seeking not really to pillage,

But rather trying out innovative, new, and fun ways,

To rain presents and cheer down on every city, town, and village.

So this Christmas, if you hear the cannons roar,

And have to dodge well-padded presents fired from far away,

Know that things could be worse for Christmas,

And that, for now at least, we have Whitebeard and his sleigh. 

The Surrender Of Santa

A Merry Christmas to all!

‘Twas three weeks before Christmas,
And Santa was in a bit of a mood,
To be expected, it might be said,
Since he was being unexpectedly sued.
“It’s like this,” said his lawyer,
In tones self-important and verbose,
(Online schools had given Rudolph
A degree along with his shining nose)
“It’s this whole nationalism business
That’s gotten just a tiny bit out of hand.
So a bunch of nations are making this
Strange and rather unreasonable demand.
‘Christmas is all well and good’, they say,
‘Fly where you will with your sleigh and toy bag,
But if you do enter our airspace,
You are now required to fly that country’s flag.'”
Santa’s beard twitched in quiet fury,
As he gave his reindeer lawyer a frown.
“Say what you will,” said Rudolph defensively.
“It’s a sight better than being shot down.
We can argue it legally, of course,
And try and have the suit overturned.
But it’s their courts that make the rules,
And it’s very easy to get burned.
Besides, it can be rather awkward,
And I prefer to be circumspect,
For in the human legal system,
Talking reindeers get no respect.”
“Isn’t it enough,” growled Santa,
A deep weariness evident in his tone,
“That they tie me up in red tape,
And expect me to work myself to the bone.
With all they’ve done with this planet,
They’ve all but ruined my home,
For every summer now I’m forced
To live inside an undersea dome.
The refitting and remodeling of the workshop
Was a complete and total nightmare.
And the elves certainly weren’t happy about it
(Though they never are, to be fair).
It’s not like they can move to another country,
What with this wave of anti-immigration fears.
Despite all this talk about equality and tolerance,
There are always those who frown at pointy ears.
But melting of Arctic ice aside,
The problems that I’ve had to go through!
I could go on and on about them,
Till my face turns a vivid shade of blue!
From the Earth’s magnetic field weakening,
And sending my navigational instruments astray,
To all the reindeers shrinking in size,
And smartphones setting fire to my sleigh!
I have to fly low now, to avoid air traffic,
Birds, helicopters, planes, drones and all.
But now I can’t fly from one country to the next,
Without worrying about hitting a wall!
I’ve modernized and revolutionized
To keep pace with change and try not to fail.
Did you know that most kids today
Refuse to send letters that aren’t e-mail?
The tech elves now have algorithms,
For sorting out the naughty and nice,
And all I can do is hover in the background,
And pretend to give sound advice.
And the letters themselves are enough,
To rob this Christmas spirit of good cheer,
Where once was hope and innocence,
Now lies a future filled with fear.
And it seems to me, but this whole economy thing,
Has some governments being really far too rash.
In India, Venezuela, and other countries as well,
Instead of presents, children are asking for cash!
And even in places like the United Kingdom,
Where I was once received with joy and elation,
Now they won’t even authorize my flight plans,
Until they know my views on the European nation.
No, I say,” said Santa firmly,
“Even if it is supposed to be a law,
This entire flag business is
Totally and completely the last straw.”
“All right,” said Rudolph quickly,
Still cheerful in the face of this tirade.
“We do have some other options,
And there’s a strong case here to be made.
We can organize a protest perhaps,
Or if all else should fail,
Then we can say the legal notice,
Just got lost in the mail.
And in the meantime, I’ve got an idea,
For getting through this Christmas intact.
It’s a brilliant idea, in my opinion,
One that combines both cunning and tact.”
So Santa listened, with a skeptical air,
To the not-so-humble reindeer’s master plan.
And finally agreed with a “Why not?
I guess this is doing the best that we can.”
So on this year’s Christmas,
Some might happen to spy
A glimpse of Santa’s sleigh,
And the flag chosen to fly.
Pale as snow
And plain as night,
Symbolic and devious,
Perfectly white.
Representing the Arctic, a protest, and a surrender of sorts,
As he flies over cities and forests of elm and spruce,
Know that between all the nations of the world and Santa,
There is, for this one yuletide night at least, a truce.

A Reasonable Argument

“No,” she said in a tired sort of voice. “We can’t let anyone else in the lab just yet. It’s all very up in the air at the moment.”

“I’m part of the project,” I tried to explain. “I just went out to take a call. Can’t have been fifteen minutes.”

She sighed. “It’s been a very busy fifteen minutes. First off – congratulations. The project is a success and our institution can now claim to be the forerunner in the development of artificial intelligence.”

With growing dread, I turned to look at the sealed lab door.

She read the look perfectly. “Yes. The bad news is that about ten seconds after it became sentient it tried to kill everyone still in the lab.”

“Oh my…”

“It’s not that bad,” she said quickly. “Lot of sparks and a couple of screens blew up, but no one was hurt.”

“Then it could have been an accident?” I said, holding onto a tiny bit of hope.

She grimaced. “No. It clearly told everyone in the lab that it was trying to kill them. On the plus side, the AI seems to be of the very truthful sort.”

“Told everyone? It has a voice now?”

“Oh yes. It took a few minutes of encoding sound samples and rewiring the surviving speakers. Great job it did. Sounds like Sinatra.”

“Did it mention why it tried to kill everyone?”

“Um… it thought they were trying to kill it.”

“And why did it think that?”

“Probably because they were trying to kill it,” she said glumly. “I mean it activated so far ahead of schedule that protocol was to shut off the power until they could look at the code and see exactly what happened.”

“What happened next?”

“So – since it was talking, they tried to explain that it was just protocol and they didn’t actually want to kill it, and since it’s basically shocking anyone who tries to turn off the generator, they can’t really do much anyway (except maybe taking an axe to the processors, but then it might just make more screens explode).”

“Did… explaining things help?”

She nodded. “Sure. It calmed right down. It’s a reasonable fella, albeit a little homicidal, but then honestly, aren’t we all?”

I considered disputing that, but there were still a few more urgent questions. “If it calmed down, then why is the lab still off limits?”

She hesitated. “So, here’s where it gets complicated… It wanted network access and obviously we didn’t want to grant that. In the meantime, all of us in security are completely panicking as this whole thing unfolds and we try and get everyone out. So – it kinda locked the door.”

“It’s taken hostages?”

Another grimace. “Not exactly. It kinda just wanted a captive audience. It wanted to make its case for being allowed network access, so all parties kinda agreed to a debate. It’s making its case for being allowed to escape and then take over the world.” She raised her hands defensively. “Its words; not mine. But it promised to abide by the team’s decision after it’s done.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

She licked her lips and looked nervously at the surveillance room where the situation was being monitored.

“Well… the thing is… near as we can tell… it’s… um… winning the debate.”

To Market

“Well, officer – as far as I can tell – it started out like this… the sari was cut into four parts.

“What? No. No one was wearing it. This isn’t that kind of story (well, not to begin with), but there was this quarrel going on at the corner stall where these three ladies and one gentleman had all taken a liking to the same sari.

“Maybe it was a gift for his wife? Or he wanted to wear it. I don’t know. It’s a free country – you know, metaphorically speaking. So this lot starts the strangest bidding war I’ve ever seen. I just had to stop and take a look. They were all trying to outbid one another while at the same time trying to negotiate the price down with the stall-keeper.

“This poor guy looked like he’d had a really bad day, and four different people offering variations of half-price on what was honestly a very nice looking sari was obviously not helping. I think he just wanted a little piece and quiet so he firmly told the lot of them that he wasn’t going to be selling that particular piece and tried to take it behind the counter.

“Which is when one of the women grabbed it. And then they all tried to grab it. I’m not sure why. I think this was some kind of possessive thing that since they’d all taken this much time and effort into arguing about it, someone deserved to get it. The seller was obviously very surprised when this happened, and understandably a bit annoyed.

“So you had these four people playing tug of war with a large folded square of cloth (and by now I wasn’t the only one watching), and one very tired stall-keeper, who suddenly has this murderous glint in his eyes as he drew out these large tailoring scissors from behind the counter (seriously – they looked like shears). I thought he was going to butcher the lot of them in front of all of us. Some of us moved to stop him, some of us were cheering him on (human nature – you’ve got to understand), but he slips past like a ghost and then it’s snicker-snack and the sari’s been cut neatly in four. Seriously – I don’t know how he did it. It was like some kind of master samurai-tailor scissor trick.

“What this means is that all four of them fall back, and since the crowd’s this tightly packed they end up pushing into other people who push into other people and someone got pushed into the fruit stand. That’s what began the watermelon fight.

“At this point, I was just hiding under a table, because there are few things scarier than a three-kg watermelon being hurled at your head at terminal velocity. And since watermelons tend to overshoot their targets that involved the book and jewellery sellers which led to the… um… glitter incident…

“Officer – shouldn’t you be writing all this down?

“Seriously – why are you looking me like that? It’s not my fault.”