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(Danny Schecter of MediaChannel has a News Dissector blog and he posted this poem by reader: Jeralyn DePete:
The Night Before Christmas
(with apologies to Clement Moore
”Twas the night before Christmas, and all through Fox News, The pundits were hawking their latest faux views.
The cue cards were written in language unsparing,
In hopes that the diatribes soon would be airing.
The viewers were settled all snug on their couches,
Awaiting the headlines from right-leaning grouches.
And Laura in her jammies and George in his cap
Had just settled down for some tickle and slap.
When over at Fox there arose much dismay
“Reilly intoning, “There’s a new war today.”
Up out of my lounger I flew in a panic,
“Korea?” I queried. “Or is it Iranic?”
The sneer on the face of this newscasting jerk
Made me think to myself, Why, this manâc’s gone beserk.
And what is the cause of this wild man’s rebuke?
These secular low-lifes, they all make me puke.
“Theyre killing off Christmas,” he adds, turning blue.
“Those liberal commies, the ACLU.”
More rabid than rabies, “Reilly’s insane.
He rallies his minions and calls them by name:
Now Coulter! Now Gibson! Now Falwell and Hannity!
On Carlson! Cavuto! Let’s stop the insanity!
Between church and state, there should not be a wall!
Now dash away! Bash away! Slash away all”
As dry levees that before the wild hurricane stand
When they meet with Katrina do not hold as planned,
So too did his lackeys cave in and disperse
To spread propaganda, and slander,and worse.
And then in a moment, I heard on the tube,
More ranting and raving from Fox’s star boob.
As I jiggled the dial, trying hard to evade,
Every channel was covering the same sick tirade.
He postured and posed as a newscaster must
And his words fairly dripped with distaste and mistrust.
Intolerance showed through his smarmy facade,
As he spoke of his intimate knowledge of God.
His eyes how they narrowed. His dimples how phony.
His cheeks were all sunken, his nose very bony.
His mean little mouth very grimmish and tight-lipped,
His hair in a comb-over, thinnish, and sheep-dipped.
The stump of a pencil held tight in his fist,
As he ground out his latest religious-right grist.
He had a rogue’s face and a little round tushy
That shook when he spoke of his hero, George Bushy.
He was evil and vile, a right wingnut, a joke,
And I wretched when I saw him, I gagged when he spoke.
A twitch of his eye and a jab of his finger
Soon gave me to know he would now launch a zinger.
The problem, he babbled, is with Holi-days”
For which he blamed Target and Bloomberg and gays.
Then flipping the bird to all Christ-child haters,
And cursing a streak, he reviled the blue-staters”
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