Real Christmas

Microsoft killed Santa Claus.

Okay, they didn’t kill the real Santa, but an automated Santa chat-bot they had set up last week. The Santa-bot was an agent on their Live Space website and MSN Messenger program. Children could ask Santa some questions and tell him what they wanted for Christmas, and an automated program would give the appropriate responses.

But according a story in to the London Register, the virtual Santa got into some real trouble when he was chatting with two girls, 11 and 13 years old, who offered him a piece of virtual pizza.

“Eat it!” they told him.

“You want me to eat what?!?” Santa-bot responded. “It’s fun to talk about oral sex, but I want to chat about something else…”

I promise I’m not making this up.

Microsoft tried to fix the Santa-bot earlier this week, but it didn’t work. And so Microsoft, well, killed him. Sort of like the end of Old Yeller.

“No, Mr. Gates. Santa’s my bot. I’ll do it.”

Microsoft said in a written statement to the media, “We were not completely satisfied with the result of these actions, and have decided to discontinue the automated Santa Claus agent.”

I felt bad for poor Santa-bot. He reminded me of the Ask Eliza computer program I played with when I was in high school. Eliza was an artificial intelligence computer therapist that you could ask questions, and it would respond. I used to type in semi-dirty words, so it would repeat them back. (I typed in dirty words too.)

Me: What is a fart?

Eliza: What do you think a fart is?

Me: I asked you.

Eliza: Are you asking me a question?

Me: Yes, are you some kind of moron?

Eliza: Do you think I’m some kind of moron?

Me: Yes, because you don’t know what a fart is.

Or, I used to pull a Captain Kirk, who got computers blow up by tricking them with circular logic. I could crash Eliza by asking her things like “Why is blue?” Eliza would freeze up and gasp “an unknown error has occurred” before she crashed completely. Captain Kirk would have been proud.

I managed to contact the virtual Santa one last time before Microsoft hit the kill switch. I went to the site, and answered a few questions. But I think Santa-bot was just phoning it in, knowing his end was near. Here’s a transcript of our final conversation.

erik_deckers: Hi Santa.

Santa Claus: Ho ho ho, erik_deckers. Happy holidays.

erik_deckers: Holidays? That’s rather impersonal, don’t you think? I thought you were all about Christmas.

Santa Claus: I like your holiday. Are you a boy or a girl?

erik_deckers: Santa, don’t you know me? You used to bring me presents when I was a kid.

Santa Claus: Do you want a dolly or a truck for ?

erik_deckers: Come on, Santa, it’s me! Erik Deckers Don’t you remember?

Santa Claus: Yes, erik_deckers, I remember you. I used to visit you in . I brought you a truck or dolly.

erik_deckers: All right, Santa, I’m a boy.

Santa Claus: Hello, little boy. How old are you?

erik_deckers: I’m 40.

Santa Claus: That’s a great age. I remember when I was 40. I used to sit on my mother’s lap and she would tell me stories. What would you like for your holiday celebration?

erik_deckers: I want a Nintendo Wii and a Madden 2008 Football game.

Santa Claus: You’ll shoot your eye out, kid.

erik_deckers: Santa, the Wii doesn’t have a gun.

Santa Claus: I will tell my elves for you. What else would you like?

erik_deckers: I’d like a big keg of my favorite beer.

Santa Claus: Sorry, erik_deckers, children shouldn’t drink beer. Maybe I could bring that for your instead.

erik_deckers: But Santa, I’m 40. I’m old enough to drink beer.

Santa Claus: That’s a great age. I remember when I was 40. I used to sit on my mother’s lap and she would tell me stories. What would you like for Christmas?

erik_deckers: Santa, what’s wrong with you.

Santa Claus: Santa has been a little naughty, erik_deckers. Santa may have to go away for a while.

erik_deckers: Away? But will you be back in time for Christmas?

Santa Claus: Yes, Santa will be sure to visit you in this year. Now Santa has to go, before he causes any more trouble.

erik_deckers: Wait! I have one more question.

Santa: Yes, erik_deckers?

erik_deckers: What is a fart?

Santa: What do you think a fart is?

Written by Eric Deckers for American Reporter

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Twas the month after Christmas and all through the house
nothing would fit me, not even a blouse
The cookies I’d nibbled, the eggnog I’d taste
All the holiday parties had gone to my waist

So away with the last of the sour cream dip
Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip
I won’t have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie
I’ll munch on a carrot and quietly cry

I’m hungry, I’m lonesome, and life is a bore
But isn’t that what January is for?
Unable to giggle, no longer a riot
Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet!

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‘Twas the day after Christmas, and all through the house,
Every creature was hurtin’, even the mouse.
The toys were all broken, their batteries dead;
Santa passed out, with some ice on his head.

Wrapping and ribbons just covered the floor, while
Upstairs the family continued to snore.
And I in my T-shirt, new Reeboks and jeans,
I went into the kitchen and started to clean.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the sink to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the curtains, and threw up the sash.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a little white truck, with an oversized mirror.
The driver was smiling, so lively and grand;
The patch on his jacket said “U.S. POSTMAN.”

With a handful of bills, he grinned like a fox
Then quickly he stuffed them into our mailbox.
Bill after bill, after bill, they still came.
Whistling and shouting he called them by name

“Now Dillard’s, now Broadway’s, now Penny’s and Sears
Here’s Robinson’s, Levitz’s and Target and Mervyn’s.
To the tip of your limit, every store, every mall,
Now charge away–charge away–charge away all!”

He whooped and he whistled as he finished his work.
He filled up the box, and then turned with a jerk.
He sprang to his truck and he drove down the road,
Driving much faster with just half a load.

Then I heard him exclaim with great holiday cheer,

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On the 12th day of the Eurocentrically imposed midwinter festival, my
Significant Other in a consenting adult, monogamous relationship gave to
me:

TWELVE males reclaiming their inner warrior through ritual drumming,

ELEVEN pipers piping (plus the 18-member pit orchestra made up of
members in good standing of the Musicians Equity Union as called for in
their union contract even though they will not be asked to play a note),

TEN melanin deprived testosterone-poisoned scions of the patriarchal
ruling class system leaping,

NINE persons engaged in rhythmic self-expression,

EIGHT economically disadvantaged female persons stealing milk-products
from enslaved Bovine-Americans,

SEVEN endangered swans swimming on federally protected wetlands,

SIX enslaved Fowl-Americans producing stolen non-human animal products,

FIVE golden symbols of culturally sanctioned enforced domestic incarceration,

(NOTE after members of the Animal Liberation Front threatened to throw
red paint at my computer, the calling birds, French hens and partridge
have been reintroduced to their native habitat. To avoid further
Animal-American enslavement, the remaining gift package has been
revised.)

FOUR hours of recorded whale songs

THREE deconstructionist poets

TWO Sierra Club calendars printed on recycled processed tree carcasses

AND a Spotted Owl activist chained to an old-growth pear tree.

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According to the Alaska Department of Fish and Game, while both male and female reindeer grow antlers in the summer each year, male reindeer drop their antlers at the beginning of winter, usually late November to mid-December.

Female reindeer retain their antlers till after they give birth in the spring.

Therefore, according to every historical rendition depicting Santa’s reindeer, every single one of them, from Rudolph to Blitzen had to be a girl.

We should’ve known.

Only women would be able to drag a fat man in a red velvet suit all around the world in one night, and not get lost.

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CHORUS
Rudolph Got Run Over by my Grandma
just as he arrived on Christmas Day
She had gotten sick and tired of hearin’
that song where she gets trampled by a sleigh.

She’d been listening to the radio
and she nearly lost her breath
yellin’ cuss words at the DJ
for playin’ that song where she gets hooved to death.

So she set out on the warpath
there was evil in her eye
she said “I’m gonna find that reindeer
and by golly, one of us is gonna die!”

CHORUS
Rudolph Got Run Over by my Grandma
just as he arrived on Christmas Day
She had gotten sick and tired of hearin’
that song where she gets trampled by a sleigh.

Santa Claus had made a landing
on the new expressway
Grandma was doin’ 120
with her headlights pointed straight at Santa’s sleigh.

‘Twas an awful sound of impact
Grandma really nailed him good
There were hoofprints on her windshield
and a pair of ripped-off antlers on her hood

CHORUS
Rudolph Got Run Over by my Grandma
just as he arrived on Christmas Day
She had gotten sick and tired of hearin’
that song where she gets trampled by a sleigh.

Guess we’ll all be missing Rudolph
in the winter when it snows
but now he’s up in reindeer heaven
with a Buick logo stamped into his nose.

But there’s no regret from Grandma
as she drove away, she sneered,
and then she hollered out the window
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all, a FLAT DEER!”

CHORUS
Rudolph Got Run Over by my Grandma
just as he arrived on Christmas Day
She had gotten sick and tired of hearin’
that song where she gets trampled by a sleigh.

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Test to see if you are a Grinch:

1. You reuse last year’s Christmas cards and send them out under your own name (5 points).

2. You steal light bulbs from you neighbor’s outdoor display to replenish your own supply (5 points, 10 if neighbor’s whole light sets or lighted Santa goes out).

3. You have dressed a dog or cat as Santa Claus, elf helper, or reindeer.(10 points for each; if you dressed an endangered species, 5 extra points).

4. You put out last year’s stale candy canes for children (1 point for each piece of sticky candy). If you put out a chocolate or marzipan Santa also, add 10 points.

5. You enclose a shoddy and inferior gift from Target, Walmart, or K-Mart in a Bloomingdale’s or other prestige box to impress your friends (5 points for each infraction).

6. You make collect long distance phone calls to your family on Christmas day (5 points, 10 if from a cell phone), claiming you are stuck in a phone booth.

7. At the office Christmas party, you horde huge stockpiles of goodies for later consumption at home (5 points; 15 points if you use this stuff for your own party).

8. You steal the wreath from a parked car to use on your own (Southern California only, others ignore: 5 points).

9. After an invitation to a friend’s house, you bring a commercially produced fruitcake and try to pass it off as home made. (5 points; 15 points if the fruitcake is from last year).

10. Any stealing from the Toys-for-Tots collection bins is a definite no-no (20 points).

Evaluate your score on the “Grinch Scale” from 20 to 100.

20-30: You are just a cheeseball.

30-50: You are an apprentice in Yuletide larceny and are probably wanted by the police for overdue parking tickets.

50-100: Grinch, move over. The Meyer Lansky of Christmas crime has arrived.

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