'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through my feed Not a Tweeter was tweeting, not even Sam Fried; The pronouns were listed in profiles woke, In narcissist visions of genders bespoke; The blue checks were nestled all smug in their heads, While logical fallacies littered their threads; And Antifa with 'kerchief, Vijaya, and Vox, Had just made a list of wrong-thinkers to dox, When out on the Street there arose such a clatter, To offer that much? He’d be mad as a hatter! Away to the Chancery lawyers would lope, But stock price was stuck at a joke about dope. A sink in the arms of the new-christened boss, His arrival turned overpaid snowflakes to dross; Some managers quit, although many were sacked, Unlike Ligma and Johnson, ‘cause that was an act. And the mainstream reporters, so scared and so thick, Foretold stories of chaos: Its death would be quick. But servers kept whirring and users returned, Elon whistled, and taunted, and coaxed back the spurned; "Now, MEGAN! now, JORDAN! now, BABYLON BEE! On, KATHY! on LINDSAY! on, DONALD, MTG! To the top of the trends, go offend and appall! Now tweet away! tweet away! tweet away all!" As bright stars that adorn the vast infinite dark, When they duck behind thunderstorms, don’t always spark, So stumbled did Elon when Alex was due, Whose conspiracies wild, have oft later proved true. And then, in some tweet threads that started to drop, Exposing suppression of Hunter’s laptop, Through the activists’ pleas, interfering was nigh, And agendas were synced with our own FBI. This was evidence, sure, but we knew all along, Yet the parties insist that they’ve done nothing wrong; A nod and a wink and a blacklist or two, And together they dictate what facts counts as “true.” The left – how they gaslit! The blue-checks how pious! The trust council meltdowns, so blind to their bias! The wan little journalist’s pachyderm frown, And the agency bureaucrats doubling-down; The targeted threats black bloc made now exposed, And accounts that hurt children have finally closed; Community notes and divergent opinions, The platform is thriving without all Jack’s minions. I considered these things, as I sat by the Bay, And I laughed when I saw him appear on the quay; A joint in his teeth, this was no Christmas elf, I knew right away it was Elon himself. He spoke not a word, but stood holding his phone, They say at the top rung, you’ll be all alone, He tweeted a survey about his new roll, And gave me a nod, with the smirk of a troll; Then sprang to his Tesla, his phone in his pocket, And away his jet soared with a trail like a rocket. But I heard him exclaim, ere he flew out of sight, HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, BUT DON’T DARE TRACK MY FLIGHT!