Forgive my tardiness on this entry, for I know that it is past Christmas. Luckily, it will come again in 364 days, which gives you fine people sufficient time to ponder my sentiments regarding the archetypal holiday hero.
Santa Clause, to put it mildly, is a springboard for irrational belief systems and a wolf beneath a beguiling red coat. He’s an unnecessary mind fuck, whose subterfuge has led to several incidences of brain tumors in small children.
Hide your kids! Hide your cookies! Hide your milk!
Now I’m sure countless adults have survived childhood under Santa’s pretense, myself included, but I find it absolutely immoral to consciously perpetuate a lie. Likewise, tradition should be no rival to the illogical perspectives and cancerous growths that may arise in future generations. Essentially, Christmas can be just as jolly without Mr. Claus and his troupe of flying reindeer. The times they are a-changin’, and you old fogies must adapt.
Hear me out.
1.) Santa is one fat, reckless bastard. In a country where fat children run rampant like Iowa cattle, do they really need to fawn over someone who breaks into their house to eat their cookies? In addition, this amorphous sack of red velour can travel to every house in the world in 24 hours, yet is never seen wearing a helmet or seatbelt. (Despite that fact that it’s not even possible to travel faster than the speed of light.) What a turd.
2.) He has voyeuristic tendencies. He sees you when you’re sleeping? He knows when you’re awake? He knows if you’ve been bad or good? Yikes. Need I say more?
3.) He’s an authoritarian dictator. Hell, a COMMIE! He has a sweatshop of elves employed for mass toy production all year round. Clearly, he’s slowly trying to convert the world’s children to his cause of "toy making". Ha! More like BOMB MAKING! We know your tricks, Mr. Claus.
4.) He’s a criminal. If we know that he’s coming, why does he insist on the chimney? Just come in the front door, you felon. What do you have to hide? Oh, that’s right. Everything.
With that said, I hope you all realize the grave danger we’re placing upon our children. And while we’re preaching at the altar of Tony Botello, let’s rid ourselves of christmas lights, too.