All Commentary
Monday, November 5, 2018

The Night Before Voting: A Satirical Adaptation of Clement C. Moore’s Classic Poem

T’was the night before voting when all through the land, Collectivists were clamoring to take command.

‘Twas the night before voting when all through the land,
Collectivists were clamoring to take command.
Their platforms were posted on Facebook with care,
In hopes that Control! soon would be theirs.
Bernistas were nestled all snug in their beds,
While dreams of “free” college danced in their heads.

And the socialists of the left, and the protectionists of the right,
Had a common enemy: free trade, to fight.
When down in the market there arose such a clatter,
They suspended debating to see what was the matter!
Away to their telescreens they flew like a flash.
Horror of horrors! Prols with cash!!

The storefront displays and the new fallen snow
Revealed Prols toting packages! How could it be so?
When what to their statist eyes should appear,
But imports from China and lands far and near!
Happy people exchanging with opportunism,
They hissed at each other: “capitalism!”

More rapid than rats, the bureaucrats they came.
They pointed and shouted, “Your greed is to blame!”
Now taxes! Now tariffs! Now more legislation!
It must be the state that directs all creation!
Medicare without limits, and we must build a wall.
Now tax away, tax away, tax away all!

As party loyalists do when dear leader extols,
Collectivists dutifully went to the polls.
Then to campaign rallies, the followers they flew.
For the promise of benefits and Saint Sanders, too!
The scene at the rallies was like deja vu.
Blind loyalty to party, flawed candidates, too.

As I choked back my lunch and was looking to hide,
To their respective podiums, the candidates did stride.
Adoring acolytes cheered wildly and they soaked it all in,
Each one convinced they’d make America great again.
They gave well-rehearsed speeches designed to divide
Along race, creed, and income, and national pride.

Their vision, it twinkled! A future so sweet!
But their vision’s foundation was The Fatal Conceit!
Their faces were frozen in a permanent smile.
And no one noticed that their words dripped with bile.
Were they confident? Oh yeah! Each one full of themselves.
And I laughed when I saw them in spite of myself.

But the leer in their eyes and the ideas in their heads,
Soon made me realize I had plenty to dread!
They finished their words as confetti came down,
And shook all the hands while bodyguards frowned.
Our eyes met just briefly, but that was enough.
My face said quite clearly, “I’m calling your bluff!”

You’re no saint to the poor, no egalitarian.
Your method is force, tending totalitarian!
As you seek to direct every nook of the nation
Your ideas produce rationing, misery, starvation!
But I heard them exclaim as they drove out of sight,
Collectivism hasn’t failed—it’s just never been done right!