Cringe-mas Carols
These cringe-worthy carols and seasonal serenades help add some local flavor to traditional tunes sung not around a chestnut-roasting campfire, but in a cozy little chatroom with a beautiful scene of the Wegkruip Waterhole at the southern hemisphere’s summer solstice…
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O Camelthorn Tree (to the tune of "O Christmas Tree")
O Camelthorn tree, O Camelthorn tree, what happened to your branches?
O Camelthorn Tree, O Camelthorn tree, snapped by a zebra's scratches!
Your bark's bleached bright by summer's heat, no longer will 8 owls meet,
O Camelthorn tree, O Camelthorn tree, how lovely were your branches.
O Camelthorn tree, O Camelthorn tree, of all the trees most lovely,
O Camelthorn tree, O Camelthorn tree, "Owlstar" twinkling above thee,
Each day you bring to us delight, and after dark you still shine bright!
O Camelthorn tree, O Camelthorn tree, you're so Cape Turtle Dove-ly (sorry).
O Camelthorn tree, O Camelthorn tree, we all learn from your beauty,
O Camelthorn tree, O Camelthorn tree, thank you for doing your duty,
Your leaves so green with festive cheer, have not been seen for many a year,
O Camelthorn tree, O Camelthorn tree, we love you absolutely!
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Kristine's Krazee Kristmas Karol (to the tune of "All I Want for Christmas is U")
I don't want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need, I don't care about the salt blocks placed beside the Camelthorn tree,
I don't want an overflow, don't care if chatters call me "bro", make my wish come true: All I want for Christmas is Gnu!
I don't want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need, I don't care if an Oryx licks where Jackals have so lately pee'd,
Solving mystery lights can wait, spamming Springboks can make me late, just make my wish come true: All I want for Christmas is Gnu!
Oh, owls' eyeshine are shining, so brightly everywhere, and the sound of Springboks grunting fills the air...
And every hyena is whooping, let's hope they don't start pooping, Santa won't you bring me the one I really need? Won't you please bring a baby Wildebeest to me?
Oh, I won't ask for much this Christmas, I won't even wish for snow, I'm just gonna keep on waiting, underneath the camera pole
I just want you for my own, meet me on the waterhole's central stone, make my wish come true! All I want for Christmas is Gnu!
(dedicated with much love to our wonderful mod kristine g)
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Desert Wonderland (to the tune of "Walking in a Winter Wonderland")
Jackals howl, are you listening? In IR, the sand is glistening, a beautiful sight, we're happy tonight, talkin' 'bout a desert wonderland
Gone away to a lake lurk? Here to stay is our gnu Herc, to beep a love song while we stroll along, walkin' in a desert wonderland
In the overflow we'll build a mud man, we'll pretend that he's Hyena Brown. He'll say, "are you hungry?" We'll say, "no man, but you can scavenge 'round when we leave town”
Later on we'll conspire, reaming pipes with rag & wire, to face unafraid the creature parade, walkin' thru this desert wonderland
...walkin' thru this desert wonderland
...walkin' thru this desert wonderland
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Sound of Wildence (to the tune of "Sound of Silence")
Hello Darkwood my old friend, I've come to chat with you again...
'cause a jackal softly creeping, stole my shoe while I was sleeping…
And the vision of the timestamps in my brain, still remains...
Within the sound of silence
Without my shoe I walk alone, to the puddle's rounded dome...
In the darkness of the I R, I wished I'd not left in my car...
My other shoes and my good flashlight, 'tis such a quiet night...
Here within the sound of silence
And in the chat box then I saw, 10,000 chatters maybe more...
People typing without looking, feeding Rex without cooking...
People writing posts, that Nightbot never showed, and no one knowed...
Within the sound... of silence
(Thanks and credit to composing mod Steve Bates g)
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The Twelve Days of NamibiaCamstmas
On the Twelfth Day of NamibiaCamstmas my true love sent to me . . .
************ Twelve Oryx Grumping
*********** Eleven Gnus A-Gnuing
********** Ten Vultures Scavenging
********* Nine Warthogs Wallowing
******** Eight Zebras Tooting
******* Seven Hyenas Whooping
****** Six Ostrich Scooping
***** Five… Towering… Giraffe...
**** Four Porcupines
*** Three Springboks
** Two Cape Turtle Doves
* and A Pied Crow in an Acacia Tree!
(originally by our madcap anglo-gallic mod, Gerryhatrick)
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Sprinkles the Incontinent Oryx (to the tune of "Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer")
You know Stumpy and Fancy and Bowie and Curly, ornery Mr Boss and some even more surly but do you recall... the most famous Oryx of all?
Sprinkles the Incontinent Oryx only had one eyeshine, and if you ever saw him, you would say "that critter's not fine!"
All of the other oryx, used to gag and call him names, they never let poor Sprinkles, join in any oryx games.
Then one foggy Christmas Eve, Santa came to say: "Sprinkles, with your poor digestion, stop eating Ed's apple pie, is my suggestion"
Then how the oryxes loved him, as they shouted out with glee:
"Sprinkles the Incontinent Oryx, you'll go down in history!"
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We Three Springs (to the tune of "We Three Kings")
We three springs of antelope are, bearing horns we've pronked from afar, o'er field and fountain, dune and mountain, following yonder Owlstar…
O star of wonder, star of night, better not be a Mystery Light, avoiding Jackals, Hyena cackles, guide us through the desert night.
We three springs of antelope are, sounding much bigger than we actually are, westward leading, grunting and bleating, following yonder Owlstar…
O star of wonder, star of night, could be a drone on a top-secret flight, westward leading, rarely sleeping, guide us through the desert night.
We three springs of antelope are, hitched a ride in kristine g's car, often pondering, aimlessly wandering, following yonder Owlstar…
O star of wonder, star of night, shining like the Hoba meteorite, westward leading, safari cars speeding, guide us through the desert night.
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"A Visit From St. GNUcholas"
'Twas the night before Christmas and all thru the land, we get to watch critters thanks to NamibiaCam!
Stockings festooned Lightwood, hung there by Cape Hares, in hopes that St. GNUcholas soon would be there;
The Oryx were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of tsamma melons danced in their heads;
I'd just settled down with some Eggnog Ice Cream (and Milo to sip while modding the 'stream) when out of the speakers there came such a clatter, I looked at my screen to see what was the matter!
A Zebra herd perhaps or some Hyenas to see? I switched to full screen, searching frantically. The IR shone down on the warm desert ground as the Owls flew off, startled by the sound.
Then what to my wandering eyeshine should appear but a sleigh pulled by Oryx, not red-nosed reindeer (they live much, much further up north).
With a fiery-eyed driver (posted at FB by Blick), I knew right away that it must be St. Gnick!
Flying faster than Cheetahs across the dry plain, he grunted and beeped and called them by name; "On Springboks, On Hartebeests, On Cape Hares NOT RABBITS!-" Then cut himself off and said "Sorry, just habit"
"To the cam at KC! Before it goes ringo! Look quick to see a Springhare for a NamCam Bingo!" Like dust blown by hot desert winds did they fly, speeding away to bring Ed apple pie.
And then in a flash they appeared at KC, where St. Gnick left a pie in the boughs of Ed's Tree. As I reached for my mouse to re-click the "LIVE" dot, St. Gnick said "Dikkop" and unleashed Nightbot!
He was dressed in dark fur from his hoof to his horn, and his coat was all dusty from a roll in the morn. A half-dozen pies he carried on his back, looking like a peddler as he opened his pack.
His eyes, how they twinkled, like stars in black pitch, as he stood there so still with not even a twitch. A bat then flew out from the whiskers he grew. Do these old eyes deceive me? A White-Bearded Gnu?
An Acacia thorn he held, clenched in his teeth, and moths encircled his head like a wreath. He had a long nose and narrow legs: as big as he was, his legs looked like toy pegs.
He was muscled and plump, an impressive 'beest, newly arrived from a grass and salt feast. In the blink of an eye he leapt back to his sleigh: I felt so at peace, no more F. O. M. A.
He spoke not a word, but rushed back to NC, filling every single stocking on the Camelthorn tree. Then laying his hoof on the side of his snout, he went to the puddle and cleaned out the in-spout.
His work was now done: the overflow already damp, so he uttered a spell and erased his timestamp. But I heard him exclaim to a zebra named "Spot", "Mare-y Christmas to owl and to all a good Nightbot!"
(adapted/modified, originally told by Clement Dunelark Moore)