Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Secular Santa

Ask most Christian kids what the best part of Christmas is, and they’ll probably tell you it is Santa Claus bringing them a boat load of presents. Ask a Hindu kid the same question and the response you’ll receive will probably have something to do with not eating cows and bathing in a cholera infested river. But, it doesn’t have to be that way. The idea of Santa Claus has nothing to do with Christianity. The fact that he doles on Christmas Eve is a crazy coincidence resulting from, among other factors, marital stoicism.

If you believe the story told in the made for television special Santa Claus Is Coming To Town, by Rankin/Bass (and why wouldn’t you believe it – they wouldn’t put it on television if it wasn’t true), Santa’s decision to strafe the youth population of the world with gifts was not based on responsibilities or contracts he had with any religion. Also, nowhere was it disclosed that only Christian kids would benefit from their beliefs and his generosity.

Santa began his deliveries as a way to reduce the inventory of toys produced by the Kringle elves, who were neurotic toy makers incapable of curbing their toy-making compulsion. Let’s all thank our lucky britches they didn’t have the same compulsion with M. Night Shyamalan movies. All Santa wanted to do was clear out some of the toys to make room for a pool table. By the time he got back from Sombertown each night, those bastard elves filled up the den with yo-yo’s and sawdust dolls again. Plus, he was tired of sleeping in a bed full of wooden ducks, jack-in-the-boxes and toy soldiers. The miniature elf bed they gave him was hard enough to get comfortable in as it was. And the Winter Warlock was no help ever since he kicked his Angel Dust addiction. Kind of like how Sid Vicious ruined the Sex Pistols when he stopped shooting heroin. And stopped breathing.

Santa’s popularity grew, and more kids, of all creeds, looked for a handout. These demands caused him to reduce the frequency of his treks to once per year. He chose Christmas Eve, but it wasn’t because he felt he owed anything to the Christian faith, in which he may or may not have believed.

As divulged in the TV special, Christmas Eve was also Santa’s wedding anniversary. It was expressed on the program as the “most holiest of nights” . I happen to believe February 29th is the most holiest of nights, but that’s my bag. It was also a night that Mrs. Claus expected to be wined and dined and romanced. In addition, she expected some sort of diamond concoction each year. Santa was sensitive to Mrs. Claus’s anniversary needs for the first few hundred years of their marriage. After a while, his hankering waned, and accommodating his wife became more of a chore than anything else. So much of a chore that he chose to spend that particular night delivering gifts to every damn kid in the world rather than spending it swooning his honey.

This is the real reason Santa picked Christmas Eve to oblige the masses. It had nothing to do with celebrating the birth of little baby Jesus. It had everything to do with Santa being sick of his wife. Can you blame him? You saw Santa Claus Is Coming To Town. Did you see what Mrs. Claus looked like by the end of the show? She must have been spending most of her time taste testing the Christmas candy. As far as animated figurines go, she looked pretty good in her younger, school marm days. Once she snagged her man, she let herself go big time. Huge time. There was no reason for her to try anymore. Not that Santa is any prize, either, but he didn’t place any unreasonable demands on her, like the want of diamonds and being paid attention to. He understood why she didn’t grope him anymore. With his size, it would take her weeks to grope him. Santa knew she did not have that much free time (because she was busy taste testing , of course). This explains why he gets delayed each year in Pattaya, Thailand, causing the Australian kids to get their presents a little late (and slightly soiled).

Since this evidence shows Santa’s generosity is not limited to those children who have been brainwashed with a Christian slant, every kid should expect something on Christmas morning. You don’t even have to call it Christmas. It can be referred to the Fat Guy Gift Day: “Hey, Fat Guy Gift Day falls on a Thursday this year. At least it won’t screw up the weekend.” Most of you get that day off from work, you may as well have something to call it.

Now that the moose is out of the rucksack, all of you non-Christian parents out there better start up a Christmas account (do banks offer Fat Guy Gift Day accounts?). Santa gives to children of all faiths. You’ve been getting off easy for too long. As for you Jewish people, you are really screwed. You’ve convinced the kinderlech that Chanukah is better than Christmas by bribing them with eight days of goodies. Now you’ll be flippin’ the bill for both occasion.

For the record, and beside the point (assuming I actually had one), I’m not Jewish but I celebrate Chanukah, because I really hate Antiochus of Syria.


keysunset said...

HA, first! Oooh, what wonderful insightful comment can I make ...

- who licked all the red off your candy cane


-- Kind of like how Sid Vicious ruined the Sex Pistols when he stopped shooting heroin. And stopped breathing.

Yeah, that stopping breathing thing takes the joy out of most everything.

Have a happy whatever in the world you want to celebrate on whatever darn day of the year you choose, darlin'!!!!

I'll celebrate my own way.


del said...

Is this the version you tell your kids? Do they send out "Fat Guy Gift Day" cards to all their friends?

they wouldn’t put it on television if it wasn’t true I firmly believe this! :-)

rather than spending it swooning his honey You romantic you! (But there is another explanation, you know. Mrs. Claus may be making time with the head elf and all this toy making is simply a way to get the big guy out of the house for a night. Guys always think things are their idea!)

ll said...

Your research is impeccable.


Mrs. Clause

Leper Hopeful said...

The story of Santa & his wife made me think of this...

How to treat a Woman:

Wine her..
Dine her..
Call her.
Hold her..
Surprise her.
Compliment her.
Listen to her.
Laugh with her.
Cry with her.
Romance her.
Encourage her.
Believe in her.
Cuddle with her.
Shop with her.
Give her jewelry.
Buy her flowers.
Hold her hand.
Write love letters to her.
Go to the ends of the earth and back again for her.

How To Treat a Man:

Show up naked.
Bring chicken wings.
Don't block the TV

The only thing is they heinously forgot to add "bring beer" - what kind of lame ass woman would show up with chicken wings but no beer??!! That's not any way to treat a man. But I digress...

Great post Moist. I finally feel in the Chri..I mean Fat Guy Gift Day spirit.

HR said...

I'm concerned that "Fat Guy Gift Day" might (reasonably) be confused with Father's Day, for which there is no pay-off for me. Burgled! So, with that in mind, I'm gonna wish you a Happy Sappy Kringle-Doo-Dah Day! If that doesn't make you want to wear bells on your shoes, I don't know what will.

Now get out there and get shopping. Or else the terrorists win.

L A Ray said...

It's Festivious for the rest of us!

Some Jerk said...

"rather than spending it swooning his honey You romantic you! (But there is another explanation, you know. Mrs. Claus may be making time with the head elf and all this toy making is simply a way to get the big guy out of the house for a night. Guys always think things are their idea!) "

But the toy making was going on before Mrs Claus ever met the elves or Santa for that matter, so your argument makes no sense.

del said...

Doesn't mean Mrs. Claus isn't taking advantage of the chance to get the big guy out of the house! ;-)

Anonymous said...

I object to you calling Mrs. Claus dumpy.So what if she has been eating candy non-stop, what else is she supposed to do while her husband goes god knows where, "delivering toys" to kids around the world....yeah, right a likely story.

Those creepy elves have got to lay off the blow.

bibi said...

Moist! I miss you and that slamfest called RockStar.

Say what you will about the season for believing or disbelieving. All I want for Christmas is Marty Casey. My loneliness is killing me ... blah blah blah two three ... I still believe, still believe. Those were the good old years.

I think Danny DeVito is Santa's love child, how about you?