'Twas the night before Christmas, and on every web site|
Not a protest was stirring, no one felt the right;
The Thing New York were forced not to share,
In fear that the FBI soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of freedom danced in their heads;
And mamma with the TV, caught wind of the trap
Is Etoy settled down for a long winter's nap?
When out on the web there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to my windows I clicked through all the flash,
Banners explained about "clicking for cash"
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a corporate interest in what I held dear,
With a billion in earnings, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it was making me sick.
More rapid than eagles its investors they came,
And they whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
Now, Etoys! now, Amazon! now, Barnes and Nobles!
On, AOL! on Yahoo! on, All ecommerce foibles!
As dry spirit meets net art and ecommerce cries,
to old saint internic the lawyers do fly.
So up to the DNS the lawyers they flew,
With the sleigh full of etoys, they knew what to do.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the pipe a court decision came with a bound.
It was dressed all absurd, from its head to its foot,
And its implications were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of cash etoys had flung on its back,
And it looked like a peddler just opening its pack.
Its eyes -- how they twinkled! Its defense came with ease!
"Imagine if a child saw any of these?"!
Its droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And pictures of breasts and bombings etoys did show;
The stump of controversy held tight in his teeth,
Circular logic in shareholders heads like a wreath;
"Who cares about art? its all about money!",
Such slippery responses, like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right wealthy old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A denial of service, and only a twist of its head,
Soon gave me to know I had something to dread;
It spoke not a word, but went straight to its work,
And started sucking up net.art with such a jerk,
And now what has happened, everyone knows,
Free speech bumped off, annual earnings they rose;
The net became buisiness, all banners and credit,
court cases and lawsuits, of course they all fed it.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
Happy Christmas to all, and to a free net, good-night.
with respects to Clement Clarke Moore