Tuesday, December 24, 2013

If Obama Had A Son, He Would Look Like Santa Claus

My favorite web-based anthology of junk news, lifestyle advice, and gay pride stories has seen fit to inform me that Fox News host Megyn Kelly recently stirred up a jolly good holiday “conversation” on race relations.  Her great offense: contending that Santa Claus and Jesus Christ had white pigmentation in a plainly jesting rebuttal to an equally plain but dead-serious article on Slate which insisted that the former figure should either be a black man or a penguin to avoid offending “nonwhites”.

Racist?  Nah.  Just Wrong.

For once in my life, I can forge common ground with the Yahoo! race-baiters and long out-dated NAACP unionists, even if they mistakenly assume that Santa Claus is a real person rather than a secular deity and that Megyn Kelly has a TV show because viewers listen to her arguments, which is about as preposterous as saying that Rush Limbaugh rules talk radio because listeners like to ogle his golden face and Olympian physique.  We can debate the skin color of Jesus of Nazareth, son of God, savior of mankind, if we wish to sound like irreligious, racially prejudiced idiots and project that we’re obsessed with people’s physical appearances instead of with their character, but much like the question of man-made global warming through vehicular and lung-related carbon emissions, the matter of Santa’s racial identity was scientifically settled a long time ago.  If Kelly’s first error was to even bother addressing anything written on Slate, one of the most unapologetically communistic and off-puttingly PC blogs on the internet, her second error was to fall back on misleading cultural stereotypes about the myth of Santa Claus instead of approaching it intellectually with evidence and reasoned proofs.

The truth is that Santa more nearly resembles America’s first-black-president-and-don’t-you-forget-it than he does any Caucasian of a similar profile, including the Saint Nicholas of legend, Pope Francis (if we’re to entertain that white-hispanics are a legitimate race, we must also account for white-latinos – correct?), and his mythological forebear Odin.  This is not to insinuate that Santa is necessarily black, as celebrity-in-chief Barack Hussein Obama should hardly be confused as a representative of colored or, more accurately, half-colored people at large, but only to say that if Obama had a son, he would probably look like Santa Claus.  To state this in slightly different way, if Santa had a sire and a mentor, he would look a lot like Barack Obama.  In fact, the more one thinks about it, the more apparent it becomes that the Santa of today could have been Obama thirty years ago.  So obvious are the similarities between the two that one can only speculate as to how a bright, young*, blonde, and, unfortunately for her target demographic, already taken ‘journalist’ like Kelly so carelessly overlooked them.  Hmm.

Like the globe-trotting apologizer of the United States, Santa is known for granting himself long and ostensibly well-earned vacations literally year-round in order to compensate for the unusually onerous stress imposed on his frail body by his grueling work.  Both men undertake arduous journeys of great importance across the world to meet with or remember people of all nations, even those that bear not the slightest relationship to the United States or to the Democratic People’s Republic of the North Pole.

Like the overseer of the administrative state, Santa surrounds himself with hordes of bureaucratic, low-level (ho ho ho) grunts, advisors, and servants to whom he can deflect the blame if any of his ‘presents’ have ‘unforeseen’ defects, glitches, costs, or other unworkable side-effects.  When these gifts do stand the test of basic functionality, he claims all the credit for the success of his inferiors, and when they fail the test, he either chastises their recipients for falsely expecting an entirely different gift or faults his little helpers for ‘bad customer service’.  Whatever the case, he swears that he will get to the bottom of the disaster and bring the culprits behind it to justice.  No one is ever more frustrated about it than he is.

Like the all-seeing eye of the National Security Agency, Santa observes and records his subjugates’ every word and move: he knows with whom they’re sleeping, he knows where they’re awake, he knows when they’ve said bad or good, nothing from him escapes.  Based on what he sees or hears, he will issue both punishment and reward, lavishing those he favors (or those who favor him) with the most expensive and spectacular benefits and slapping those he disfavors with a heaping lump of coal.

Like the commanding executor of the war on terror, Santa routinely abrogates his followers’ property rights and immunity against unreasonable search and seizure, forcibly invading their residence without a warrant and pilfering their stores of home-baked sweets.  Nor does he offer them just compensation for his takings, as he considers himself and his overworked racers far more needy consumers of the homeowners’ goods.  When the rare Constitutionalist does boldly indict him for breaching the conditions on which he was or wasn’t entrusted the executive office, he promptly dismisses his critics with the justification that he only encroaches on their hearth for their own good, aspiring merely to the greater security and happiness of his people.

Like the paterfamilias of the American royal family, Santa professes an unduly care for the children of the world, embracing them all as if they were his own and doing everything within his superhuman capacity to ensure that none of them should ever want for food, comfortable living, or recreational opportunities.  Each man makes it his personal crusade that all children should have cause to smile, and in so doing blesses untold multitudes of them with cause to break out in uncontrollable gushes of tears.  They are strangers at best and monsters at worst, differing only in how they opt to display it; while America’s patriarch hides his monster behind a veil of statesmanship and community service, the world’s patriarch wears it in the open, to the effect that his involuntary and youthful benefactors can espy his deception all the sooner.

Like the prophesied messiah of Environmentalism and modern Statism, Santa claims to possess the means of doing physically impossible, even divine acts.  His reins temper the climate of the globe and part the seas and storms to allow his passage; so profound is his dominion over the earth that he can inhabit innumerable regions of space simultaneously on the same night.  He has the power to cure poverty and shower fortune on all who believe in him, to spread the joy of the holidays even in those war-torn or disease-ravaged wastelands where joy is a distant mirage and death is a stranger to none.

Like the arch-bishop of the secular church of America, Santa preaches a message of materialism and salvation by the religious sacrament of altruism.  Christmas to each man is neither a reminder of man’s absolute fallenness nor a cause to honor the grace of God in giving us his son, but a call to celebrate and fervently demonstrate man’s inherent moral uprightness through the “spirit of giving” stuff (which must by logic entail the “spirt of receiving” on some other end) and showing “random acts of kindness” towards one’s neighbors.  Neither leader observes Christmas as an occasion for cherishing the everlasting hope and change that Jesus Christ offers to us, for both believe that the instruments of hope and change lie not with a make-believe god but with man.  The one commands us to place hope in an unkempt, gluttonous, slavedriving burglar who can conjure up physical wealth and goodies at every year-end, while the other promises a similarly magical hope through the iron power of the federal government and its seemingly limitless coffers.

Like the once foreign-born, once Hawaiian pretender-in-chief, Santa is a fraud and an unconscionable deception whom a materialist media has perpetrated on society and unwitting parents on their offspring to effectively supplant faith in the good news of the Gospel with mindless belief in a slobbish and laughably inane Jesus impersonator.  He is a false idol who has attained the status of a cult figure through a series of sheer exaggerations or total fabrications.  He is a serial lie whose existence hinges on keeping people mired in a state of childlike ignorance and blind acceptance of statements that are patently false, just as our dear leader would have no existence if his base did not so gullibly trust his deceits about keeping their health insurance, cutting the deficit in half, closing Guantanamo Bay, making government more transparent, and maintaining the Bush-era tax rates.  He is a satanic mythology, a superhero of superstition, and an affront to all things holy, honest, and virtuous.

Shame on you, Megyn Kelly, for not seeing so obvious a parallel earlier.  I expected better of you.

OK, not really.

Merry Christmas.

* I honestly had no idea she was 43 until doing a Wikipedia fact-check.  You can decide if that’s young or not, as such judgments tend to be subjective.

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