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ST:TNG Xmas Carols
(the following text is by Anthony Moses)
During a recent routine uplink to a communications satellite while
attempting to call an Alaskan BBS, I happened to intercept the following
mail packet. According to a physicist friend of mine at the university,
unprecedented solar flare activity on that date may have resulted in a
transient chronophase (or time-shift) in the subspace frequencies, with
the result that I have, astounding as it may seem, apparently downlaoded
seasonal E-mail from the crew of the USS Enterprise 1701-D. These
holiday greetings are reproduced here as received (with editorial
comment by myself), and with no guarantee of their authenticity (or
quality).
From Jean-Luc Picard (to the tune of "Let It Snow"):
Oh, the vacuum outside is endless,
Unforgiving, cold, and friendless,
But still we must boldly go--
Make it so, make it so, make it so!
From William Riker (to the tune of "Deck the Halls"):
Here's a vexing Christmas riddle:
(Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la, la la)
Why must I play second fiddle?
(Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la, la la)
How can I impress Deanna
(Fa-la-la, la-la-la, la la la)
When I'm number two banana?
(Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la, la la)
From Wesley Crusher, Starfleet Cadet (to the tune of "God Rest Ye Merry
Gentlemen"):
I'm at Starfleet Academy,
And I'd just like to say
I miss the opportunity
To weekly save the day--
To make things worse, I have to be
In some dumb Christmas play!
Yes, I'm bright, though I'm just a teenaged boy,
Only a boy,
And the Enterprise was my most favorite toy!
From Data:
Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells,
Jingle all the way!
Oh, what fun it is to ride
In a one-horse open sleigh--
or so I am reliably informed; lacking a subjective
and intuitively perceived referent for the term "fun,"
I am able only to report the phenomenon as experienced
by others, whose individual perceptions somewhat color the--
yes, sir.
Worf E-mailed two different greetings. The first appears to be to the
tune of "White Christmas":
I'm dreaming of a dead Pakled,
Just like the one in Rec Deck Eight.
They all think they've hidden,
But this one didn't,
And I'm using him as bait.
I'm dreaming of a dead Pakled--
Their mental skills are rather lame.
May your foes die sonless, in shame--
And I hope you're wishing me the same!
The second is most easily sung to the tune of "The Christmas Song"
("Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire"):
Phasers flashing in the depths of space,
Ripping up an airtight hull;
Signs of fear on your enemy's face,
And life-support signs reading null!
Ev'rybody knows a Romulan's a spineless foe
Who lacks the Klingon will to fight!
Phaser beams set his torso aglow--
He'll find it hard to breathe tonight!
He knows that Worf is on his way!
And soon he'll be the object of the verb "to slay"!
And ev'ry slinking Rom and Pakled spy
Will soon become the subject of the verb "to die"!
And so I'm offering this simple threat
To Roms, and all Ferengi, too:
You'll be as dead as a life-form can get--
Merry Christmas to you!
Evidence suggests that these last two greetings are samples from a
proposed anthology entitled "Klingon Kristmas Karols," published by the
Federation as an attempt to translate certain aspects of Terran culture
into Klingon terms; further examples from this festive book of holiday
glee would be (to coin a term) fascinating to contemplate. The reader
will note that Christmas felicitations from Deanna Troi, Beverly
Crusher, Geordi LaForge, Guinan, and M.E. O'Brien are curiously absent;
perhaps some other user has intercepted these, and will post them for
our continued edification.
------------
Well, a friend of mine, John Reddick, apparently recently
intercepted a subspace packet over the mainframe computer he
was using from the same 24th century source that Anthony
Moses discovered. It's another Christmas Carol from a
member of the crew of the Enterprise-D:
COUNCILLOR TROI'S YULE-TIDE LAMENT
(To the tune of "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas")
I get no surprises out of Christmas--
Presents leave me blue--
I know what they're giving me
Before they do.
Who wants to be Betazoid at Christmas?
I read Jean-Luc's mind:
"What's the cheapest gift for Troi
That I can find?"
Geordi thinks I'm a "Beta-bore"--
Worf likes Data more--by far.
Wes to Mom takes his whinin', or,
Sobs to Guinan o'er the bar.
In Will's dreams I'm in a reindeer costume
Bare at breasts and thighs--
He as Santa merrily
His whip applies.
Oh, Christmas is no fun aboard the Enterprise.
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