Have a holiday party
Read a holiday story
Make a holiday card

Picture still will not load on my computer.

Turning and turning in the widening gyre  
The Breezie cannot hear the Pegasus;  
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;  
Vapidity is loosed upon the world,  
The pastel tide is loosed, and everywhere  
The veneer of equinity is drowned;  
Pinkie’s voice lacks all conviction, while Scootaloo  
Is full of passionate intensity.
 
Surely some revolution is at hand;  
Surely the Fourth Generation is at hand.  
The Fourth Generation! Hardly are those words out  
When a vast image out of Hasbro Corporate  
Troubles my sight; somewhere on the shelves at the Target  
A shape with shrunken body and a head twice as big,  
A gaze as blank and pitiless as the sun,  
Is baking the holiday cookies, while all about it  
Reel shadows of indignant holiday dancers.  
The darkness drops again; but now I know  
A quarter century of plastic sleep  
Was vexed to nightmare by a dwindling budget,  
And what pink beast, its hour come round at last,  
Slouches toward Ponyville to be born?

Wish I could see the picture, but my computer didn’t load the whole thing. Bet it was cute.