FUNNY: AI ‘Michiganizes’ ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas’

We live in a weird world, don't we?

AI (or "artificial intelligence", if you're just climbing out from underneath a rock) is progressing at a breakneck pace. It's capable of doing things in just a couple seconds that just three years ago we could only dream of.

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We asked ChatGPT to re-write the classic "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" with a Michigan twist - and within a matter of seconds, it turned out this gem.

We're officially frightened.

RELATED: What Does AI Really Think of Michigan?

AI's Michigan Version of "'Twas the Night Before Christmas"

'Twas the night before Christmas, in the state of Great Lakes,
Not a creature was stirring, not even the Wolverines or Spartans for goodness' sakes.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that Santa soon would be there.
The Yoopers were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of pasties danced in their heads.
And down in Detroit, and up in the UP,
Folks settled in for a long winter's sleep.

Out on the lawn, there arose a pure Michigan clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
To the window, I flew like a Detroit flash,
Threw open the shutters, and beheld a snowy sash.
The moon on the new-fallen snow cast a Midwestern glow,
Illuminating objects with a sparkle, oh so slow.
What to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a sleigh and eight reindeer, spreading holiday cheer.

With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment, it must be Saint Nick.
More rapid than a Detroit freeway, his coursers they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
"Now Dasher, now Dancer, now Prancer and Vixen,
On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner, and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall,
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!"

Like leaves in the autumn wind, they soared high,
Meeting obstacles with grace, reaching for the sky.
Up to the housetop, the coursers they flew,
With a sleigh full of Michigan gifts and old Saint Nicholas too.
In a twinkling, I heard on the roof so slick,
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof's click.
As I drew in my head and turned around with delight,
Down the chimney St. Nick came, all in fur, oh so bright.

He was dressed like a lumberjack, from head to toe,
Clothes tarnished with ashes and a hint of the U.P. snow.
A bundle of Michigan-made toys he had on his back,
Looking like a Yooper peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes twinkled like stars over the Great Lakes,
His dimples, how merry, like Detroit's skyline stakes.
His broad face and little round belly shook with glee,
Like waves on Lake Michigan, pure holiday esprit.

He was chubby and plump, a jolly old Michigander,
His laugh echoed like a Detroit Lions roar of thunder.
A wink of his eye and a nod of his head,
Assured me there was nothing to fear or dread.
He spoke not a word but went straight to his Michigan work,
Filling the stockings, a true holiday perk.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a Michigan whistle,
And away they all flew like a Belle Isle thistle.

But I heard him exclaim as they drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a Michigan good night!"

Told ya - AI's scary.