Season 10, Week 21
Jun. 15th, 2017 07:49 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rayasoTopic: Current Events
This was inspired by an editorial in the Sacramento Bee titled “This cute doll can spy on your kid. Why doesn’t the Legislature seem to care?”
http://www.sacbee.com/opinion/opn-columns-blogs/dan-morain/article155217209.html
It was a long, cold trek from the Monitoring Unit to the Head Elf’s office, but Sugarplum needed to deliver the news in person. She hated the snow. “Why can’t I work in some tropical paradise?” she thought. “We’re all on the Internet anyway.” Everyone but the Big Elf. He was still stuck in the past and didn’t trust modern technology.
“The snow doesn’t bother him, he can just magically transport himself,” grumbled Sugarplum, as her boots grew wetter and her feet colder.
As manager of the Monitoring Unit, Sugarplum and her crew were responsible for watching all the kids to see who was naughty or nice. “Spy elves,” some called them. Santa Claus had the final say, of course, but the grunt work was done by her Unit.
One of the big tools was the Internet. “It’s amazing what those kids post,” thought Sugarplum. “Don’t they know we check Facebook and Reddit?” Too many nice children were being lost to naughty these days. Krampus was happy, but the North Pole had been losing too much business.
Now there had been a clear violation of the Protocols, and Sugarplum had to report it.
The Protocols were centuries old and governed the relationship between Santa and the children. Protocol Number Three was “Good Behavior and Distributing Presents,” right behind “Believing in Santa” and “Cookies by the Fireplace.” Sadly, they had been losing ground on all three.
Santa blamed this on the overall decline of imagination, but always the optimist, he had hope for the future. “What would a child’s life be like without me?” Santa always said. As usual, it was the Internet’s fault. “Too much information, too little heart.”
Well, Santa was going to hate Sugarplum’s news, but she had to go up the chain of command. Santa was a stickler about these things.
Cold and miserable, Sugarplum finally made it to the Head Elf’s office. Evergreen was on a cookie break, so Sugarplum grabbed some hot chocolate and a cupcake, and waited. And waited some more. Monitoring was a minor priority in the Summer, when all the attention was on Toy Production. “Those things don’t build themselves,” Evergreen liked to say. Actually, they did, but it still took a lot of time -- there were a lot of nice kids in the world.
As far as bosses went, Evergreen wasn’t bad, but you never wanted her help after a cookie break. An elf on a sugar rush could be scary, but Sugarplum couldn’t wait; her news was too important.
Finally, Evergreen returned, carrying a large mug of hot chocolate with extra marshmallows. The chocolate chip cookies had been tasty and plentiful, so she was in a good mood.
“What’s the problem?” said Evergreen. “Your message said it was important.”
“I want to report a massive Protocol violation – Number Three,” said Sugarplum.
“Behavior and distribution?” said Evergreen. “What’s going on?”
Evergreen was concerned. There hadn’t been a Protocol violation in decades – not since that glut of cheap toys hit the toy stores and the children just weren’t interested in Christmas anymore. That had taken care of itself with the advent of Nintendo and GameBoy, which had caused a real increase in good behavior in order to get one for Christmas.
“There’s this new doll, ‘My Friend Cayla,’ on the market . . .” Sugarplum began.
“I’m aware of it – its wish-list presence is pretty small to be a problem,” interrupted Evergreen.
“But it’s an evil spy doll!” said Sugarplum.
The Cayla doll had long blond hair and blue eyes, and looked completely inoffensive. But she was really an internet portal in disguise – just an Echo or HomePod with a plastic smile. The doll hooked up to the Internet with a WiFi connection, and she had a speaker and a microphone so a child could talk with her, ask questions, play games, and do many other fun things.
But Cayla was always “on,” constantly gathering information from anyone who spoke within range of her sensitive microphone. That feature laid bare a family’s private life, to be used for marketing or whatever purpose any data buyer wanted.
“But that’s wrong . . .” sputtered Evergreen, choking on her hot chocolate.
“That’s only part of it. There’s also Amazon’s new drone delivery service,” said Sugarplum. “No Santa, no Rudolph, no sleigh. The drone just flies through the air and delivers Cayla.”
“It doesn’t matter if they’re naughty or nice -- this doll just appears on their doorsteps?” asked Evergreen. “Where’s Santa’s magic in that?”
The idea of a doll as a secret internet data collector horrified the two elves. “No wonder Cayla’s manufacturer wanted to avoid Santa,” said Sugarplum. “Germany has already banned it as an illegal surveillance device and asked parents to destroy its microphone.”
“Put Cayla on the Naughty Toys list,” said Evergreen. “There will be some disappointed children this Christmas.”
“What about Amazon’s drones?” asked Sugarplum.
“That’s for Santa to decide,” replied Evergreen. “The Big Elf isn’t going to be happy – he may be jolly, but this will upset him. Type a report and send it to him immediately.”
The typewriter did as it was told, and the report flew off to Santa’s office. Santa might not have liked computers, but magic was different and it was usually allowed for office work.
After Santa read the report, he was so angry that a blizzard struck the North Pole. The elves hadn’t seen one this strong in years.
Evergreen and Sugarplum made the slow, freezing trudge through the gale to Santa’s House. For a building made of gingerbread, frosting, and candy canes, it was surprisingly sturdy and warm. Santa’s office was a mess, with papers and plates of half-eaten cookies scattered about. “I have my own filing system,” Santa kept telling Mrs. Claus. His pack was in the corner, overflowing with new toys waiting for approval.
Santa was pacing angrily in front of the fireplace, puffing on his pipe, the smoke circling his head like a storm cloud. His eyes were no longer twinkling. The elves had never seen him so upset.
“We let the children down,” said Santa, dispensing with his customary Ho Ho Ho. “I wasn’t even thinking about the Internet when I approved that toy. It just looked like any other doll.”
“I think that was the point,” said Sugarplum. “It was designed to fool everyone, even you.”
“Those people have to be punished,” ordered Santa. “Put it on the Bad Toy List. They won’t be selling any more of their spy dolls.”
Under Protocol Number Seven, Santa’s approval was needed for any new toy to succeed. Without it, no good child would want one and sales would plummet. Recently, the Banzai Bump N’ Bounce had made the Bad Toy List and it had failed miserably.
“But what about the Amazon drones?” asked Evergreen. The drones were clearly infringing on Santa’s magic, and enough was enough. The declining value of the Santa brand worried her, and it was her job as Head Elf to see to the business end of things.
“I’ve warned Bezos about Amazon many times,” said Santa. “He wants to take over all sales, everywhere. He is not nice and he just ignores me. The drones are the last straw.”
The elves could see that Santa was getting even angrier. He might have looked soft, with the cozy red jacket and pants, but his belly wasn't shaking like jelly, now. It shook with anger. Finally, he spoke.
“Unleash Krampus on Jeff Bezos,” Santa said. “Now.”
With his horns, dark hair, and fangs, Krampus was the embodiment of the anti-Christmas spirit. Normally, he threatened the worst children with his lash, and if they did not become nice, Krampus would haul them off to the underworld in a sack. Santa rarely let him loose on an adult.
“Bezos is going to wish he’d never created Amazon,” thought Sugarplum. “He’s in for a real scourging.” She secretly hoped he’d wind up in the underworld.
“And stop accepting Wish Lists sent electronically,” said Santa. “I love to read the little kids’ letters with all the mistakes. E-mail from their parents just isn’t the same.”
Although the blizzard was gone now, it was still another cold walk back to their offices for Sugarplum and Evergreen, but they knew cookies and hot chocolate would be waiting.
If adults didn’t care about spy dolls, Santa did. Santa loved little children, even those who did not believe in him.
The excitement, laughter, and joy on Christmas Day made the whole year worth it for Sugarplum, even with all the snow.
It was time to get back to work. Santa still needed to know who was naughty or nice, and the Protocols didn’t protect themselves.
A North Pole elf’s work was never done, even in the summer.
* * * * * * * * *
My thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
halfshellvenus for beta reading this.
Cayla Banzai Bump 'N Bounce Krampus
This was inspired by an editorial in the Sacramento Bee titled “This cute doll can spy on your kid. Why doesn’t the Legislature seem to care?”
http://www.sacbee.com/opinion/opn-columns-blogs/dan-morain/article155217209.html
SANTA STILL CARES
It was a long, cold trek from the Monitoring Unit to the Head Elf’s office, but Sugarplum needed to deliver the news in person. She hated the snow. “Why can’t I work in some tropical paradise?” she thought. “We’re all on the Internet anyway.” Everyone but the Big Elf. He was still stuck in the past and didn’t trust modern technology.
“The snow doesn’t bother him, he can just magically transport himself,” grumbled Sugarplum, as her boots grew wetter and her feet colder.
As manager of the Monitoring Unit, Sugarplum and her crew were responsible for watching all the kids to see who was naughty or nice. “Spy elves,” some called them. Santa Claus had the final say, of course, but the grunt work was done by her Unit.
One of the big tools was the Internet. “It’s amazing what those kids post,” thought Sugarplum. “Don’t they know we check Facebook and Reddit?” Too many nice children were being lost to naughty these days. Krampus was happy, but the North Pole had been losing too much business.
Now there had been a clear violation of the Protocols, and Sugarplum had to report it.
The Protocols were centuries old and governed the relationship between Santa and the children. Protocol Number Three was “Good Behavior and Distributing Presents,” right behind “Believing in Santa” and “Cookies by the Fireplace.” Sadly, they had been losing ground on all three.
Santa blamed this on the overall decline of imagination, but always the optimist, he had hope for the future. “What would a child’s life be like without me?” Santa always said. As usual, it was the Internet’s fault. “Too much information, too little heart.”
Well, Santa was going to hate Sugarplum’s news, but she had to go up the chain of command. Santa was a stickler about these things.
Cold and miserable, Sugarplum finally made it to the Head Elf’s office. Evergreen was on a cookie break, so Sugarplum grabbed some hot chocolate and a cupcake, and waited. And waited some more. Monitoring was a minor priority in the Summer, when all the attention was on Toy Production. “Those things don’t build themselves,” Evergreen liked to say. Actually, they did, but it still took a lot of time -- there were a lot of nice kids in the world.
As far as bosses went, Evergreen wasn’t bad, but you never wanted her help after a cookie break. An elf on a sugar rush could be scary, but Sugarplum couldn’t wait; her news was too important.
Finally, Evergreen returned, carrying a large mug of hot chocolate with extra marshmallows. The chocolate chip cookies had been tasty and plentiful, so she was in a good mood.
“What’s the problem?” said Evergreen. “Your message said it was important.”
“I want to report a massive Protocol violation – Number Three,” said Sugarplum.
“Behavior and distribution?” said Evergreen. “What’s going on?”
Evergreen was concerned. There hadn’t been a Protocol violation in decades – not since that glut of cheap toys hit the toy stores and the children just weren’t interested in Christmas anymore. That had taken care of itself with the advent of Nintendo and GameBoy, which had caused a real increase in good behavior in order to get one for Christmas.
“There’s this new doll, ‘My Friend Cayla,’ on the market . . .” Sugarplum began.
“I’m aware of it – its wish-list presence is pretty small to be a problem,” interrupted Evergreen.
“But it’s an evil spy doll!” said Sugarplum.
The Cayla doll had long blond hair and blue eyes, and looked completely inoffensive. But she was really an internet portal in disguise – just an Echo or HomePod with a plastic smile. The doll hooked up to the Internet with a WiFi connection, and she had a speaker and a microphone so a child could talk with her, ask questions, play games, and do many other fun things.
But Cayla was always “on,” constantly gathering information from anyone who spoke within range of her sensitive microphone. That feature laid bare a family’s private life, to be used for marketing or whatever purpose any data buyer wanted.
“But that’s wrong . . .” sputtered Evergreen, choking on her hot chocolate.
“That’s only part of it. There’s also Amazon’s new drone delivery service,” said Sugarplum. “No Santa, no Rudolph, no sleigh. The drone just flies through the air and delivers Cayla.”
“It doesn’t matter if they’re naughty or nice -- this doll just appears on their doorsteps?” asked Evergreen. “Where’s Santa’s magic in that?”
The idea of a doll as a secret internet data collector horrified the two elves. “No wonder Cayla’s manufacturer wanted to avoid Santa,” said Sugarplum. “Germany has already banned it as an illegal surveillance device and asked parents to destroy its microphone.”
“Put Cayla on the Naughty Toys list,” said Evergreen. “There will be some disappointed children this Christmas.”
“What about Amazon’s drones?” asked Sugarplum.
“That’s for Santa to decide,” replied Evergreen. “The Big Elf isn’t going to be happy – he may be jolly, but this will upset him. Type a report and send it to him immediately.”
The typewriter did as it was told, and the report flew off to Santa’s office. Santa might not have liked computers, but magic was different and it was usually allowed for office work.
After Santa read the report, he was so angry that a blizzard struck the North Pole. The elves hadn’t seen one this strong in years.
Evergreen and Sugarplum made the slow, freezing trudge through the gale to Santa’s House. For a building made of gingerbread, frosting, and candy canes, it was surprisingly sturdy and warm. Santa’s office was a mess, with papers and plates of half-eaten cookies scattered about. “I have my own filing system,” Santa kept telling Mrs. Claus. His pack was in the corner, overflowing with new toys waiting for approval.
Santa was pacing angrily in front of the fireplace, puffing on his pipe, the smoke circling his head like a storm cloud. His eyes were no longer twinkling. The elves had never seen him so upset.
“We let the children down,” said Santa, dispensing with his customary Ho Ho Ho. “I wasn’t even thinking about the Internet when I approved that toy. It just looked like any other doll.”
“I think that was the point,” said Sugarplum. “It was designed to fool everyone, even you.”
“Those people have to be punished,” ordered Santa. “Put it on the Bad Toy List. They won’t be selling any more of their spy dolls.”
Under Protocol Number Seven, Santa’s approval was needed for any new toy to succeed. Without it, no good child would want one and sales would plummet. Recently, the Banzai Bump N’ Bounce had made the Bad Toy List and it had failed miserably.
“But what about the Amazon drones?” asked Evergreen. The drones were clearly infringing on Santa’s magic, and enough was enough. The declining value of the Santa brand worried her, and it was her job as Head Elf to see to the business end of things.
“I’ve warned Bezos about Amazon many times,” said Santa. “He wants to take over all sales, everywhere. He is not nice and he just ignores me. The drones are the last straw.”
The elves could see that Santa was getting even angrier. He might have looked soft, with the cozy red jacket and pants, but his belly wasn't shaking like jelly, now. It shook with anger. Finally, he spoke.
“Unleash Krampus on Jeff Bezos,” Santa said. “Now.”
With his horns, dark hair, and fangs, Krampus was the embodiment of the anti-Christmas spirit. Normally, he threatened the worst children with his lash, and if they did not become nice, Krampus would haul them off to the underworld in a sack. Santa rarely let him loose on an adult.
“Bezos is going to wish he’d never created Amazon,” thought Sugarplum. “He’s in for a real scourging.” She secretly hoped he’d wind up in the underworld.
“And stop accepting Wish Lists sent electronically,” said Santa. “I love to read the little kids’ letters with all the mistakes. E-mail from their parents just isn’t the same.”
Although the blizzard was gone now, it was still another cold walk back to their offices for Sugarplum and Evergreen, but they knew cookies and hot chocolate would be waiting.
If adults didn’t care about spy dolls, Santa did. Santa loved little children, even those who did not believe in him.
The excitement, laughter, and joy on Christmas Day made the whole year worth it for Sugarplum, even with all the snow.
It was time to get back to work. Santa still needed to know who was naughty or nice, and the Protocols didn’t protect themselves.
A North Pole elf’s work was never done, even in the summer.
* * * * * * * * *
My thanks to
halfshellvenus for beta reading this. Cayla Banzai Bump 'N Bounce Krampus
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2017-06-21 06:12 am (UTC)That doll is a really disturbing idea, not just for the opportunity to spy on your child and household (although that's bad enough), but also for the fact that it's a step farther in creating bonds between children and machines instead of children and people. Friendships should be forged with other people and with animals-- not with software algorithms!
I still really wonder about a culture that created something like Krampus. In a choice between a carrot and a stick, they apparently not only went with the stick but also thought it should be electrified and coated with spikes for maximum pain and destruction. :O
no subject
Date: 2017-06-21 12:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-06-21 06:36 pm (UTC)Well, I suppose he IS his own super-business. :D