I hear parenting is difficult, what with all the disciplining and mandatory attendance and whatnot. You’ve got a million things to consider and limited brain capacity with which to consider them. Well, I hear you and I’ve decided to offer a public service this Christmas to help lighten your load. Is your kid at about that age where he/she doesn’t need to be believing in Santa anymore (what, like 3 or 4 years old or so)? Is maintaining this ruse taxing you mentally? Wouldn’t it be helpful if his/her friends didn’t believe in Santa either, to avoid confusion? Plop that little shit in front of this-here publication for a few minutes. I’ll take it from here. No need for you, the parent, to waste your precious time reading any farther. Just trust me; your kid is in great hands.
Hey kid. You’re pretty new to everything and I’m sure it can be confusing to know who to trust when almost everyone on the planet knows more than you do. Your parents seem pretty trustworthy, right? They seem to care about you. They wouldn’t lie to their own child. And, who am I, right? I’m just some stranger, and you can’t trust strangers. Worse yet, I’m not even a person – I’m just some words on a screen. Wait, you can read, right? Of course you can. You’re a smarty. Well, listen here smart guy; I’m going to tell you some harsh truths. I’m going to tell you like my big bro told me a long time ago: Santa is a hoax – never existed; never will. If you’re not ready to accept that, this article isn’t for you. But if you’re willing to free your mind and challenge your ideals, please take a seat.
I’ll say that again for you: SANTA IS A FUCKING HOAX. If you’ve let that settle into your brain and are still reading this, you may just make it to adulthood someday. I’ve laid out the key points of my thesis below for you to peruse. After reading this, you will not only accept, without doubt, that Santa Clause isn’t real; you’ll have the necessary tools and talking points you’ll need in order to convince your friends as well. Do enjoy.
Math: Let’s start with the fact that, at the very least, Santa is not, himself, entering every home on the planet to deliver gifts. It’s utterly impossible. A quick Google search will tell you that if you divide the number of homes by the average number of kids per home, you come up with about 75 million homes that Santa has to visit. Even if you figure 24 hours of continuous night-time for him to work with, that would equate to the visiting of 868 homes every goddamn second. Count to one right now… stop. Santa had to visit 868 homes, slide his ass down a chimney, deliver presents without waking anyone up, eat milk and cookies, then shimmy back up the chimney at each home. Doesn’t that seem impossible!? And don’t let your parents feed you that “magic” crap. Every time they say “magic” imagine them saying “I can literally tell you anything and you’ll believe it,” because that’s what they’re actually saying.
Ask a ton of questions: How does a magic sleigh work? Are the reindeer magic or is that Santa enchanting them? What’s the top speed of the sleigh? Is Santa more powerful than Jesus, because his miracles are more impressive? How often does Santa have to vomit over the course of consuming 75,000,000 cookies and 75,000,000 glasses of milk? Is Santa genetically impervious to diabetes and why isn’t there more research into that? Etc.
Keep asking questions. Eventually your parents are going to snap, cuss you out and tell you the truth about Santa. Ask your friends to do this same experiment and at the very least, they’ll all come back with wildly different answers to those questions. Hmmm… suspicious, don’t you think?
B&Es would skyrocket: Some of you kids live in terrible neighborhoods. It is what it is. I know what it’s like. My town wasn’t the best and it’s not even close to the worst when you consider global standards of living. You underprivileged kiddos know the types of seedy individuals roaming around your hoods. You mean to tell me, that every year on the same night, at the same time, EVERY YEAR like clockwork, this man is dropping off clothes and video games and bikes and hover-boards and shit? Every year at the same time?… You know good and well that break-ins would be just as prevalent as gift deliveries if that were the case. ‘Crenshaw Mike’ would be just as synonymous with Christmas as Santa Clause is. The story would go: every year on the evening of December 24th, Santa delivers gifts to every child, and every year on December 24th, Crenshaw Mike steals those gifts and sells them back to you for the low. You think Crenshaw Mike can’t get up and down your chimney? Crenshaw Mike can get into a locked car without breaking the window and start that car without a key. Now that’s magic!
Elves aren’t real either so Santa’s workshop is a sweat shop at best: I’m sorry to continue to demolish your dreams but you asked for the truth. Elves don’t exist. Little people exist. Children exist. So, if you believe that Santa has a workshop full of miniature workers building your toys, then you have to accept that those workers are child laborers or enslaved little people. If you can’t give up your fantasy of Santa’s workshop, then Santa is a slave master. Here’s a joke to lighten up the mood a little bit: What do you call it when a business owner employs children or a marginalized population to work for free, for months on end? – You call it “slavery.” …hahahahahahaha!
But seriously, though, elves are made up. Ask your parents why all elves are in the North Pole. Challenge them – you mean to tell me that not a single solitary elf would prefer to live in San Diego and not make toys for free? Not one elf is into art or entrepreneurship? They all just love the joy of low-level manufacturing and assembly, huh? Strange…
How old is Santa if he’s real?: Ask the question. You might catch your parents in a lie. If they reply, “he’s immortal/magical – he never dies,” you’ve got them right where you want them.
“Pardon me, mom and dad.” Say this, say, “Excuse me, dear parents. Why the hell would a magical/immortal being freeze himself as a 75-year-old fat man in perpetuity? Huh?”
The answer is he wouldn’t, kids. He’d look like Edris Elba forever and always. Just a little gray to look dignified, but otherwise at the height of his physical prime. Santa (the fictional character) is portrayed to you as a fat, jolly, old man because you love your grandpa and think fat people are funny. That’s it. It’s just a ruse to get you to believe a comforting lie.
Those dudes at the mall aren’t Santa and don’t care about you: You probably have a cell phone already – the one “Santa” brought you last year. Ask your parents to take you to the mall so you can talk to Santa. Get your phone ready and when he’s least expecting, pull his beard and snap a close-up. Later that week convince your parents to take you to another mall. I guarantee you’ll find Santa at that mall too. Do the same routine, then compare the pictures. Are the glasses different? Was one beard real and one fake? Are the noses different?… the skin tone?
Kids, those are just dudes pretending to be Santa for money. I could go apply for that job right now if I wanted to, and have a shot at pretending to be Santa for your amusement. If Santa is real, if he can travel to 75,000,000 homes in one night and make reindeer fly, why would he not have the decency to show up to the mall himself and ask you what you want for Christmas? He only works for one day per year! It’s a sham.
We’re in the information security age and you are entitled to your privacy, by law: Santa supposedly knows when you’re sleeping or awake. He knows if you’ve been bad or good. But, how? Kids, you are technically being stalked and have legal rights to privacy. If Santa is real, you should be able to go to the police department and file a restraining order against Santa. You value your privacy and would like to opt out of this arrangement. Say that. If the officers chuckle, ask them why? Why are you not being afforded the basic rights and protections you’re entitled to by law? Why is law enforcement conspiring to allow this predator to systematically track your every waking moment? That’s how kids get kidnapped and you won’t stand for it.
Kids, your parents are filthy liars, for sure, but they do genuinely love you and would do everything in their power to protect you. So, trust me when I say that they, and only they, know where you are at every waking (and sleeping) moment. Santa has no such power.
And finally.. I’ve been to the North Pole. No magic: Sorry to tell you (not really), the North Pole is not a magical place, full of mystery and wonder. Just this year I bought a regular plane ticket to Anchorage, Alaska on Alaska Airlines and took a train to the North Pole – no elves standing guard, no secret handshake, nothing. I didn’t even need to use my passport. I just drove around, unfettered, like I owned the joint. By the way, Alaska is a wonderful place. The colorful, spongy tundra blanketing the hills of Denali National Park was almost too beautiful to walk upon and the wonderful variety of native beasts is the true majesty.
The North Pole, though? Meh. There was a diner with some really good pancakes and coffee. That was dope. There’s a big store that sells trinkets and ornaments and stuff, that’s modeled after the fictional Santa’s village. That’s a nice little tourist spot to visit if you ever happen to be there. But there’s no elves making toys and there’s no reindeer flying around and there’s no workshop and there’s no motherfucking Santa Clause – just another dude in the mall pretending. There. That’s the thesis.
Kids, I hope you come to find value in this knowledge. You are now among the most learned of your peers. You are among those who’ve dared to challenge the supposed truths dictated by the adults. You now possess a superior knowledge, with which you must educate the plebs whom surround you, thus allowing them to ascend to a greater state of consciousness, just as the great profit, R.J., did for me when I was a young boy.
You’re welcome.
True Jest 