The Year That Santa Drowned


Twas the night before Christmas
The kids looked around
Their eyes welled with tears,
Though they made not a sound
A sleigh would need snow;
There was none to be found
Just the puddles where raindrops had pelted

They hoped in their hearts
That Saint Nick would come ‘round
With presents and toys
To amuse and astound
Then the word started spreading
That Santa had drowned
When the ice at the North Pole had melted

It’s the year every good son and daughter
Will be sighing and shedding a tear
Cos they found Santa’s corpse under water
And there won’t be a Christmas this year

No Santa appeared
To the kids who were spying
Though they’d really been good
Or at least, they’d been trying
No jingle of bells
And no reindeer a-flying
Or magically pulling a sled

If we’d only done something
Instead of denying;
Complied with Kyoto
Instead of defying
Now everywhere, everywhere,
Children are crying
Cos Santa—sweet Santa!—is dead.

It’s the year every good son and daughter
Will be sighing and shedding a tear
Cos they found Santa’s corpse under water
And there won’t be a Christmas this year

The hearth is ablaze
With a crackling roar,
And the stockings are scattered
About on the floor.
And the children don’t know
Who the cookies are for,
If Saint Nicholas won’t be around.

For the reindeer are missing,
The elves are all gone.
No more jolly ho-ho,
No red sleigh on the lawn,
No more squeals of delight
In the light of the dawn;
It’s the year that Santa Claus drowned.

It’s the year every good son and daughter
Will be sighing and shedding a tear
Cos they found Santa’s corpse under water
And there won’t be a Christmas this year

This one is by request, for commenter Johnny Vector (who is also responsible for the last verse! Yay!), who points to this article on Skeptical Science, and specifically to the comments thereof.

Feel free to try out some additional verses (crowdsourcing!), or put it to music, or whatever.

Comments

  1. Cuttlefish says

    I wrote it to my own tune, but I am certain a real musician could do better. I’d send it to Roy Zimmerman, but I don’t think he does collaborations. I have no doubt he would improve it greatly.

  2. says

    The hearth is ablaze
    With a crackling roar,
    And the stockings are scattered
    About on the floor.
    And the children don’t know
    Who the cookies are for,
    If Saint Nicholas won’t be around.
     
    For the reindeer are missing,
    The elves are all gone.
    No more jolly ho-ho,
    No red sleigh on the lawn,
    No more squeals of delight
    In the light of the dawn;
    It’s the year that Santa Claus drowned.

  3. pipenta says

    Send it to Roy anyway. Send it to Claude Hay. Even if they just riff off your core idea, it could be some powerful stuff.

    Cartoonish as it is, the concept is not trivial. And the fantasy might get through to people where reality does not.

  4. StevoR says

    Twas the night before Christmas
    And all round the Earth
    There was melting and wilting
    And of food and water a derth

    The sea ice had vanished
    The land had burned black
    The heat overpowered
    We all wished we could go back

    Back to the time when there was Santa and snow
    Back the era where good plants could grow
    Back to the time before Deniers said NO

    “No we won’t act”, they’d hollered and howled
    The scientists are lying they mocked and they scowled
    The deniers back then, well they had their way now
    But we’d made them answer somewhat and, oh, how they’d yowled!

    Small consolation, too late to shift track
    The methane was bubbling and Amazon hacked
    Like so many ecosystems battered and wrecked
    For burgers and money, away was it pecked.

    The seas full of plastic, the air full of smoke
    A world overheated and crowded and choked
    Merry Christmas we told ourselves once every year
    But the merriness fading and chipped out of gear
    Capitalist presents, all sorts of great things
    Unwelcome now when we wanted our world not to sear.

    Twas the night before Christmas a hundred years hence
    Climate harmed faster, sad course of events
    The children were worried, the adults were sick,
    Ecologies busted, no chance of a fix
    When a strange new magic awoke some new tricks

    Twas the night before Xmas, snap, time travel jump
    Back in the present its not yet such a dump
    Its heading that way sure but yet there’s still time
    But shorter and shorter, all things intertwine
    If we can act quickly our grandchildren then
    Can get a present now from our present so tense.
    Lets give them a future, lets give them a hope
    Quite how I don’t know but for starters no dopes :

    No dopes in the Congress or House that is white
    No dopes to be listened to saying “all is just right”
    No dopes who will tell its all just God’s plan
    No dopes and no dupes in the rule of this world
    But change of direction to future thoughts scan

    Merry Christmas grandchildren in twenty one hundred A.D.
    Can we give you still someplace, that’s sill nice to be?

    – StevoR

    Feel free to use as best suits.

  5. David Hart says

    Gah! The terrible pedant in me arises unbidden:
    Kyoto is two stressed syllables: ‘kYOH – tOH’, not a dactyl ‘kee – OH toh’.

    Okay, I’m done:-P

  6. Cuttlefish says

    Ok, David, for you the line is “Complying with Kyoto”

    I actually should have known that, but US news has been unfailingly dactylic in their Kyoting. And no need to feel bad about it–I felt the same way every time I heard Fuk u SHEE ma.

  7. Kilian Hekhuis says

    Glad I’m Dutch, our Sinterklaas comes with a boat from Spain. That Santa Clause imposter will finally get his comeupance!

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