My Own Pie

Libertarian Thoughts from Renaissance Guy

The Night Before Christmas, Libertarian Style

with one comment

This is an atempt at humor.


A Libertarian Night Before Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse,

But if he had stirred through the house that night,

It would have been his God-given right.

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care

In hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there,

And since he is a hard-working man,

Saint Nicholas would come, according to plan.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of sugar plums danced in their heads–

Sugar plums subject to high taxation

And intrusive government regulation.

Mamma in her kerchief and I in my cap

Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap.

Our assets were safely invested in gold,

And so we slept soundly in spite of the cold.

Out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my bed to see what was them matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutter and threw up the sash.

I took my Colt-45 just in case

A robber was trying to ransack my place.

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 and eight tiny reindeer

With a little old driver so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be Saint Nick.

I wondered if he had a permit to fly

With those eight tiny reindeer across the night sky,

And if he had to pay duty on all

Those toys that he brought to our humble hall

. . . . . .

As I drew in my head and was turning around,

Down the chimney Saint Nicholas 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.

I wondered what PETA would think of his coat,

Or if sliding down chimneys would get OSHA’s goat,

Or since he hired only elves and no gnomes,

If the EEOC’s mouths would foam.

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack–

Peddlars who supposedly should not gain

From their steadfast daily toil and pain,

For this weighty problem, the statists’ solution

Is coercive income redistribution.


Santa spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk.

And laying a finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.

He rose the way the stock prices should

In a truly free market, which would be so good.

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 Winter Holiday to all, and to all a good-night!

No, he didn’t say that, despite lots of flak.

He said, Merry Christmas, and I said it back.


Written by ambrosianideas

November 21, 2009 at 12:52 pm

One Response

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  1. […] Leave a Comment I don’t plan to do lots of linking to my other blog, but I am quite proud of this post at My Own […]

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