Santa cures assholes. How can you NOT support that?
I believe in Santa for several reasons:
1. You can’t spell “manipulation” without “u”. Parents have been raising children using legends and stories for centuries. “Don’t make that face or it’ll freeze like that.” “Brush your hair or rats will come make nests in it.” “Wash your ears or potatoes will grow out of them,” “Don’t get out of bed at night because the snakes that live under your bed will carry you down to snake hell and you’ll have to live there forever.” I think it’s only fair that kids have a few happy legends that bring you something nice if you aren’t an asshole. Technically there might be a lot fewer assholes in the world if more adults believed in Santa Claus. I’m all for anything that lowers incidences of assholes.
2. I believe in Santa Claus because of basic algebra.
“Do you believe in Santa Claus?” “No, it’s just parents.” “Do you believe in parents?” “Of course.” Let’s take that to the next logical conclusion…
If “Santa = parents” and “parents = real” then by logical extension “Santa = real.” That’s how math works, bitches.
3. Santa is real and I believe in him. Because I am him. And when my daughter is old enough I’ll explain to her that Santa is real because his magic was strong enough to encourage anonymous generosity in others over 1,000 years after he died. And when she’s old enough to know that Santa isn’t alive in the technical sense of the word she’ll be old enough to know that she’s now ready to be Santa herself to those less fortunate than herself. Santa never dies because we pick up the mantle he left.
4. I’ve never seen a zombie, but I still keep a rifle in my office in case I see one. I think we should all give Santa the same benefit of the doubt that we give zombies. In that we should believe in his existence, that is. Not that we should shoot him in the face.
5. I’m going to stop now.