Glad it’s almost over, but not too fast! We’ve still got to survive the jolly white guy in the thick red costume sliding down from the North Pole with his sack of goodies. As a kid, I wasn’t raised to believe in Santa. Nope, not me. In fact, I thought Santa was a Coca-Cola mascot. And why not? That’s the only time I saw his face plastered all over Coke commercials. Ironically, it was also the only time I got to drink Coke. Thanks, Santa! Or should I say, Thanks, capitalism!
But OH-HO-NO! Fast forward 30 years, and guess what? I’m still waiting for that damn gift I never got. You know, the ones my friends were swimming in every Christmas? Meanwhile, I’m stuck here on the eternal naughty list, or maybe it’s the “not-to-do” list. Either way: screw you, Santa! Let me spill your big secret; you don’t exist. Yup, I said it. Santa, you’re as real as limited time offers on a Black Friday Sale.
Now, I’ve always wondered where Santa even came from. How did we go from the story of Jesus’ birth to a North Pole recluse pimping out reindeer or just with a deer fetish? Let me drop some knowledge for those who didn’t know: Jesus wasn’t born in December. Nope, not even close. If anything, he was more of a Halloween Trick or Treating baby. But mention this to religious folks, and they’ll come at you like, “Jason, don’t you dare say that! Fear the Lord!”
Fear? Please. I’m a comedian at heart, and if I was created in God’s image, then God must have the same twisted sense of humor as me. That means Jason and Jesus share something special—a divine sense of humor and the same first initial. So before you start blowing up in my face, just remember where I got my sense of humor from. You and I can also be Js together. Praying you don’t get that line.
Now back to Santa. Seriously, how did we go from celebrating Jesus to worshipping a guy who looks like he moonlights as a mall creep? We’ve normalized kids sitting on some random old dude’s lap once a year just because he’s got a fake beard and a red suit. Imagine if someone tried this in July. That guy wouldn’t be “Santa”; he’d be on the local news with a mugshot under the headline: The Candy Canes Creep.
This is why I keep my distance from children. Aubrey can do his “Hi Kids!” act all he wants, but not me. I’m saying “Hi” and “Goodbye” in the same breath. The only files I keep are Portable Document Files, and no other attachments with the other PDFs (Pedo-files/Pedophiles).
From dying stars to dinosaurs to Jesus’ life and death, the world’s always changing. Even the way we talk has evolved. If Shakespeare wrote today, Romeo would text Juliet something like, “Yo, hit me up—gotta slide through tonight.” And the biblical Santa would say “Upon thy Christmas Tree I shall hang thy balls”
Even words have different meanings now. Take “trees,” for example. I know my Jamaican brethren reading this are like “Me know ya Propagandja (propaganda). Yeah, man, the ‘D’ is silent!” If you caught “Proper Ganja with a silent D” before I explained it, congratulations! you’re a true weed-smoking Rasta. For the rest of you, no bullshit but you gotta smoke some moooooooore. Light up and join the party. Life’s more fun when you can read IN between the L-IN-E.
Whether you’re celebrating Jesus, Santa, or Esus (the “J” is silent), the real gift is the time you spend with family and friends. That’s what matters most—not the gifts, not the propaganda, and certainly not the Proper Ganja (unless you’re into that). So let loose, like a fart at the dinner table, and don’t be tight like an a**hole.
