Strangely Naked

Most people know ol’ Kris Kringle as the deliverer of joy. But how did we all become okay with the very notion of Santa Claus? He has multiple aliases, looks like a drunk uncle who won’t shut up about riding his Harley on weekends, enslaves a legion of little people, probably abuses those reindeer (like they willingly fly around), is a home invader, and most creepy of all, he supernaturally watches all children.

“He sees you when you’re sleeping,” he’s watching your children sleep! I freak out when I know my spouse is creepily staring at me while I sleep, let alone a diabetic grandpa. Also, there’s no expiration age on his watching you. It’s not like you turn 13 and off goes the super secret monitoring device. Santa could be ghoulishly gawking at you when you first discover your sexuality and does his judgement deem that as naughty or nice, or niiiiiiiiiiice?

Why’s he doing all the clerical work anyway? Yeah, I get that all his heavy lifting is done in one night and he needs to occupy his time the rest of the year to avoid human interaction with Mrs. Claus (who’s not afforded the dignity of her own name), but whose hobby is making lists and spying on infants? Someone with control issues, that’s who.

Who is he to judge, anyway? I’d consider continuous spying of strange children as naughty. What if the kids are stuck in abject poverty due to systematic and institutionalized racism and they steal a banana? Santa’s going to deny them a present, furthering their socioeconomic disadvantage? What if those kids asked Santa for books and clean drinking water, but, uh oh, they argued with their mom…who was drunk and insisting the moon landing was fake, no presents? What a Grinch.

Is he bringing any cookies back to the North Pole or is he just binging them all night? “I’ve been working hard, I deserve a cheat day,” I picture him saying as he binges on cookie after cookie. Maybe share the credit with the elves. After all, they’re the ones making all the toys. Leaving a tribute just for Santa is like sending a thank you note to FedEx (not an endorsement) for your brand new bike. Santa is just doing his job. Not saying he doesn’t deserve a tip for services rendered, but maybe package up some cookies in a bag for the elves. I’m not just tipping the waitress at a restaurant, I’m tipping the cook too.

Still not convinced? Are you an animal lover? Then just know that Dancer and Prancer and Donner and Vixen (weird name for a deer, perv-o) are not the originals. The average reindeer life expectancy is 15 years, meaning that we’re on Donner XXI at minimum. But, you know, what else are they going to eat at the North Pole? The tundra isn’t exactly conducive to a vegan diet. “They fly, the tug a velvet-clad child predator through the air, they’re delicious! Buy a flying reindeer today, and eat it later! It’ll get you high one way or another, we guarantee it.”

If you have a child who cries whenever you put him/her/whatever-gender-the-child-chooses on the lap of a mll Santa, praise that kid. Cry on, clever child, cry on.