PAX Centurion - November / December 2015

www.bppa.org PAX CENTURION • November/December 2015 • Page 11 V enezia R estau- rant 20 Ericsson Street, Boston Ma, Venezia tucked away from city life, and into the memory or every guest we’ve ever had the pleasure of welcoming to our waterfront restaurant and ball- room Live entertainment in the lounge on Friday& Saturday Evenings Proud supporters of the Bos- ton Police Patrolmen's Association and the Boston EMS V nezia tucked away fro city life, and into the memory of every guest we’ve ever had the pleasure of welcoming to our waterfront restaurant and ballroom. Live entertain ent in the lounge on Friday and Saturday evenings Proud supporters of the B ston Police Patrolmen’ Association and the Boston EMS V enezia R estaurant 20 Ericsson Street, Boston, MA 02122 617-436-3120 Clement ClarkeMoore (1779-1863) is the author of the famous poem“The Night Before Christmas.” The Pax Centurion has taken liberties with this famous poem for many years at this festive time of year, sometimes politi- cal, mostly in good humor. Unfortunately, there are, in this day and age, people who are devoid of any sense of humor and whose tender feelings are hurt at the drop of a pin. It is at these sad and pathetic people whom this year’s rendition is directed. T ’ was the night before Christmas, and the weather was cold, And our streets were patrolled, by the few … and the old . A short-staffed patrol force awaited next call, But the lights were turned out at our own City Hall. The political climate had quickly grown frigid, And our supervisor’s tempers had also turned rigid. Overtime was mandatory, and most shifts were double, If you came into work, you were asking for trouble. We stopped for some coffee, one regular, one black. But they wrote “BLM” on our cups, so we just gave them back. When up on the roof, there arose such a clatter, I knew in an instant it was… “Elves’ Lives Matter.” The Moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow, Gave the luster of midday to objects below, But much to our shock, it wasn’t Saint Nick, But our Senator Warren, who soon made us sick. She was dressed in red fur, from her head to her foot, And her clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot. Her nose like a cherry, and her “cheekbones were high,” As she faked her ancestry, which of course was a lie. A Professor from Harvard, she wore glasses Granny, And resided in Cambridge, and looked like a nanny. Her hair it was blonde, and her eyes, they were blue, She didn’t look NativeAmerican … but then … I don’t, too… “Just being a female; well, it wasn’t enough, So I had to give Harvard … ahmm… “affirmative” stuff. Then I claimed I was native … one-percent Cherokee, And now I’m a Professor … at $350 …G!!!” And the elves that came with her, (they were vicious ones too), They loved Marxist red but they hated cop blue. “We hate the police from your hats to your pants, We’ll call if we need you”, …(like just happened in France?) More rapid than eagles, her courtiers they came, And she whistled and shouted and called them by name: “On, Lenin! On, Marx! And On, Mao-Tse-Tung!” “On Castro, Che Guevera, and On Kim-Il-Sung!” “Jump aboard, all my voters … (the non-working class), Free tuition and cellphones, you all get a pass! Here’s free health insurance, and an EBT card, Sit down and relax on your butts made of lard.” Then the Senator laughed and took hold of the sleigh, While she raised all our taxes, redistributed our pay! But the sleigh was too heavy with those who won’t work, With no taxpayers to pull it, well … she looked like a jerk. No Donder, No Blitzen, no you and no me, Nobody to pull them, as far as could see. And we heard her exclaim, as she walked out of sight, SCREWYOU COPSAND TAXPAYERS, MERRY CHRISTMAS, GOOD NIGHT! By Clement Clarke Carnell The Night Before Elves’ Lives Mattered