There is a whole lot of nonsense going on in academia right now- papers, theories and articles. It seems like the whole world has just accepted that there is no Santa Claus.
Growing up it seemed like everyone believed, my friends, family, church, teachers, but maybe it’s just the environment we’re in. In a liberal arts university everyone wants to over-intellectualize everything, you know?
Sure, it’s fantastic, but why does that mean Santa should automatically be invalidated? Professors dismiss him as “mythology” while students make fun of him. It’s like the only place the good Saint is allowed is in unfavorable parodic depictions. I’ve seen bar advertisements with a drunk Kris Kringle, stickers of a stoned Saint Nick, and a sex-shop ad featuring Father Christmas, Rudolph and a double-ended marital aid.
The closest thing to a conversation I was able to have about Santa was with a Nihilist who assured me that he was dead.
Almost everyone I spoke to thought I was nuts. There were a few who were even afraid of me. Are we at such a place now in society that we cannot run up to our brethren, dressed only in Christmas lights and ask questions about Santa Claus? Marketplace of ideas my ass.
So, they want evidence? I’ll give them evidence! I started brewing a plan to catch the bugger. I needed some sort of a trap. Luckily, I had drawn up a blueprint several years ago. It was flawed, naturally, but it was a start. I thanked my six-year-old self and got straight to work on a prototype.
I’ll spare you the details of what went into it, but basically it involved a live-cow lure, a couple of latches and springs, and a candy cane suppository.
On Dec. 24, I set the trap and went off to sleep. In the morning I hopped from my bed, flew down the stairs and ran to the chimney. Nothing.
After all of that work, the only thing the damn doohickey did was decapitate my girlfriend and set the cat on fire. Dejected, I went back to bed.
Okay. So, maybe there isn’t a man who comes in the night to bring gifts and joy. He very likely could be a capitalist creation to sell toys and to placate children. It’s possible that Christmas is nothing more than a Pagan holiday made up by Roman men so they could get drunk and touch each other.
Maybe.
But, I feel that there is something that can be said for just believing in something. Damn the evidence. What do we know? It’s insane to think that we have all the answers and just as crazy to think that someday we might. So, even if it is just a dopey story about a fat guy that gives us presents, I choose to believe because happiness and joy is the only thing we can be certain of.
Merry Christmas.
