Tag Archives: spreading lies

What’s up With Santa?

I’m not the nicest person, so I’ll just come out and say it: Why do (most) Christians lie to their children about “Santa”? Ever since I was a child, and came to understand that “Santa” was just an idea. not a real living being that visited our house via the chimney, I have wondered – and asked – how otherwise good parents could tell this lie. And it IS a lie. Children don’t understand that Santa isn’t real in the sense that they think of “real”. They don’t get it that Santa is part of the supposed “spirit” of (secular) Christmas. They certainly don’t expect the very people who tell them not to tell a lie… to tell a lie.

Bah, humbug?

Actually, yes, thank you, humbugs are a real type of candy, and I like candy.

Santa? Not so much.

Friends with children/grandchildren tell me things like “Santa makes Christmas fun for the kids” and “They are so excited on Christmas morning” and “It doesn’t hurt anyone and it’s so much fun!”

Well, yes, it is fun. It’s fun unless Santa doesn’t come down YOUR chimney. It’s fun unless you remain gullible for years longer than your peers – because parents don’t lie, because parents don’t want an older child to “ruin” Christmas for their younger siblings. It’s fun unless you’re forced to sit on an unhappy stranger’s lap for pictures and he isn’t the least bit interested in your Christmas wishes and you can tell he hates his job.

Maybe I was just an overly sensitive child. well, yes, I was an overly sensitive child. Department store Santas were, in my little mind, in the same category as circus clowns – nasty men in make-up who enjoyed scaring children while putting on a show of kindness-happiness-playfulness for the parents.

I remember seeing a news story about clothes and toy donations for needy children so that they could “have a visit from Santa, too.” I wondered why people would need to donate clothes and toys for the kids when Santa just brought those things to me and my friends. I wondered why my friend down the road only got a few things in a stocking “from Santa” when I had a stocking full and many boxed presents labeled “from Santa”. I wondered why another friend got very expensive presents. There seemed to be no equity or reason to how Santa dolled out the goods.

And no one ever got the threatened stocking full of coal.

But I do know a story of some children who did get coal on Christmas. My mom’s best childhood friend and her brother had done something rotten several days before Christmas – oh, this must have been around 1940 or so. When my mom excitedly ran up the road to show her friend the new doll Santa had given her, she found a house in mourning. Stocking full of coal were hanging from the mantel, and no presents were under the tree. Santa had been watching, and the naughty had felt his displeasure.

My mom was mortified. Even telling this tale many years later, it’s obvious how bad she felt that day. She cried along with her friend. She couldn’t understand why Santa had been so mean. She was ashamed of getting gifts when her friend got only coal.

That story does have a happier ending, though. Several days later, after what their parents deemed adequate penitence – or more likely when their parents couldn’t stand the morose pall any longer – the gifts appeared.

Ho ho ho.

Every year, people rush out for last minute gift-buying. People tussle over limited numbers of “hot” toys that their kids just have to have. Parents worry that they didn’t buy enough. Parents watch their kids enjoy the boxes more than the items they contained.

Santa doesn’t do any of this shit. The elf on the shelf is a silly little doll who sees and hears nada. And speaking of elves, there are no elves at the North Pole laboring away over their cheap plastic crap extruders. Reindeer do not fly pulling a magic sleigh. It’s all a lie.

Except for the Grinch. The Grinch is real. There are multiple Grinches, and I am one of them.

“It came without packages, boxes or bags…”

Christmas isn’t about Santa. It is about so much more, and I don’t just mean “the birth of our Savior Jesus Christ”. Christmas is as much a pagan celebration as a Christian holy day. We have passed the darkest days – now light begins to conquer darkness. Days become longer than nights. The promise of Spring is made. We see hope ahead. No wonder ancient people celebrated this time of year. Santa didn’t come into it at all – it seemed magical none the less.

I will never understand the logic behind the lie that is perpetuated in the guise of “fun”. If Santa is not real, how can Jesus be real? How can anyone who is worried about “taking the ‘Christ’ out of Christmas” work so hard at making him compete with Santa?

Bah, humbug. But think about it. In ‘A Christmas Carol’, Scrooge did not “find Santa”, he found the spirit of Christmas.

And there is no lie in that.

Waking up in another world…

Ever wonder what it’s like to wake up in a totally new reality? A place where you must fight for survival, use your wits and skills to survive? A land that challenges you with harsh and hostile terrain, where strange creatures lurk under every rock, and inside every cloud there’s not a silver lining but a vat of acid? Do you watch ‘Game of Thrones’ and think “Oh sweet Jesus, I wish that was me!”? Well, if you want to live it, you’ll be overjoyed to learn it’s as easy as commenting on a friend’s Facebook post. Yeah, Facebook, which you joined to “keep in touch” and “catch up” with old friends, family members, co-workers and fellow gamers in a fuzzy-wuzzy kitty-cat baby pic Farmville kinda utopia where everything is rainbow hugs and unicorn giggles and videos of dogs doing omglols? Oh wonderful cuddly heartwarming send prayers for Aunt Judy happy graduation social media! Luv, luv, smiley huggles!
And then someone you like/love/care about goes and posts a politically/racially/socially charged half-assed piece of propaganda meme that they obviously think everyone should agree with. “What is that supposed to mean?” you wonder, trying to figure out why anyone you ‘FRIENDED’ would be ignorant enough to ‘SHARE’ such crap. You sit there, looking at that chunk of half-digested vomit disguised as righteous indignation, or common sense, or Christian values, or patriotism – and you know you could ignore it.  “Scroll On!” your inner Miss Manners Angel of Etiquette warns, pointing down the screen to a video of a German Shepherd eating a couch. But your inner Troll of Justice grumbles “You ain’t gonna let that go, are you? Know what that makes you, ya damn spineless sack of mud? A spineless sack of shitty mud, that’s what you are!” and the Troll of Justice spits at your feet, crosses its tattooed Longshoreman’s arms and glares down its thrice-broken nose at you. Fluffy-bunny-saving, lol-ing don’t-rock-the-rowboat-ing YOU. Wringing your hands, you look from the Angel to the Troll; they’re both getting impatient with your hesitation. You have to decide, right then and there, what kind of a person you really are. Turning away is easy. You can ignore the meme and go on – but that just feels wrong, akin to telling yourself “Separate but equal is ok, why, they’re just making sausage at that work camp up the road, we brought Christianity to those pagans, why shouldn’t Jews wear a yellow star on their sleeve?” AND SO YOU ENTER YOUR COMMENT. After all, the post has a place for comments, so whoever posted it must be expecting a comment.
Dear God/dess. You have just found your portal to another Reality, and man, you open the wrong door in that dragon city and the angry birds will peck your eyes out.
You will lose “FRIENDS”. You will make relatives mad at you. You will hurt feelings. You will cause arguments. You might even win the grand prize of having family members never speak to you again! You will be misunderstood, “BLOCKED”, and ignored.
And you will be hurt. Oh, most assuredly, you will be hurt. But all who would adventure must face adversity. All who Try To Be The Change they Wish To See In The World will be knocked down by some of the very people who post the same sentiment on their Facebook page.
The “COMMENT” click-on awaits.
But be aware, Beyond here be ugly dragons.
Go slay them.