Disclaimer: In posting on this holiday, I’m sure there are people who might be offended by the post. Those people probably aren’t my readers anyways. Carry on.
Something I wrote on my last blog has been haunting me all week. I kept hearing it over and over, and realized that is wasn’t me going crazy with voices in my head. No. I’ve been hearing angels whisper from heaven. And I am a brave enough soul to do as they command and share this inspiration with the world.
On this holiest of holy days (for some) I’ve decided that we need to update our iconic figure Santa. We need someone who represents the times. We need someone who can start to make a positive change to our world and our outlook. I know who this miraculous new figure should be. Jules from Pulp Fiction.
Now hear me out! First of all, we’ve lost the true meaning of Santa. He wasn’t some loser fluffball who gives toys and candy to everyone. Depending on whether you listen to the Norweigans or the Germans, he’s actually either Odin or Buller Claus. I’m going to side with Buller Claus:
In Germany’s black forest, before Christianity came to the place, they had a legend about creatures called tomtin. These were wholly evil little dwarf-like creatures, who wore red (the color of blood). They would band together, pull a traveler to the ground and beat him.
The tomtin had a leader, though. He was known as Nacht Rupert. Nacht Rupert would sometimes come into villages taking a small army of tomtin with him, and could sometimes be seen peering into windows. He would often kill those he was watching, unless the people inside were keeping to the old faiths, in which case he would give gifts.
When the Catholic faith made it to the area, they were appalled at such a thing, and decided to replace the notion with a saint, who happened to be St. Nicholas. At first, though, this did not erase his sinister reputation. For some time, he was known as ‘Buller Claus’ (translates to ‘Belled ‘Nicholas’) because of the chains and bells that he carried. When he approached a house, the tomtin went ahead to rouse sleeping children, drag them from their beds, and ask them questions on the Christian catechism. If they could not answer or answered incorrectly, the tomtin beat them with sharp sticks and chains while St. Nicholas pelted them with hard coal until they bled and the tomtin licked the blood from their wounds. If they were able to answer correctly, they were (grudgingly) rewarded with an apple or sweetmeat. Luckily, St. Nicholas would only come once a year, on a certain day in winter.
Santa wasn’t this:
He was more like this:
Without the robots. Or the T-rex. You get the idea.
See, Santa wasn’t some weenie with a gift factory, he was a figure used to scare the bejesus out of kids so they would behave while they were stuck indoors all winter. (You never hear about big baddies that only come out on Summer Solstace, do you?)
This idea of punishment is something we’ve lost in modern society—all apple, no stick. I mean, having to listen to ten-year-old Timmy have a temper tantrum at the mall because his parents won’t buy him some crap and then immediately ignore said parents to text on his cell phone is bad enough. Having to listen to it while the mall plays Christmas muzak over and over is too much to bear. As a society, we’ve lost our sense of good and bad. ALL kids win trophies. ALL kids get presents, no coal in sight. Which would be fine, but that’s setting our culture up for failure, because there is no concept of repercussion, no fear of reprisails. Now, Little Timmy might not have any respect or instilled fear of mom and dad, and I bet with all the CGI movies and video games, he might not even be scared of Buller Claus…but I’m pretty sure he’d fear Jules.
Now, Jules is not just some common thug with a weapon. Oh no. I think he’s the perfect new Santa because he is also a religious figure. See, in Pulp Fiction, Jules witnesses and recognizes the miracle of not being shot. He comes to Jesus, so to speak, and then gets hosed down to clean exploded brains off his person. This is the same thing as a baptism. Then he decides to renounce his possessions and “Walk the Earth.” So in essence, he’s a Saint.
Not only is he a saint, he’s a black saint. Not that being black is important (or not important, sheesh), but an African American Santa does embrace ethnic diversity, and that is becoming more important with every December in melting pots like USA. Because besides Santa, who is awfully Caucasian looking, we have FROSTY. As white as you can get. Don’t hate. We should have holiday icons with jericurl, too.
And not only does he cover the Naughty part, he also can cover the Nice, too. Because it’s important to blend together the threat of beatings* and possible death from the Santa of the past with the current and more modern Christian Santa. That way we don’t overlook the religious importance of the holiday. Which is dedicated to the sacred moment when Mary gave birth to Santa Claus in a manger while some reindeer and the Abominable Snowman watched. Or something like that.
I know you understand the wisdom and holy power of my words. So next year when you’re putting up your lights, show your solidarity and enlightenment as we bring forth a new Santa into the world. Write “Ho ho ho mutha fuckaaas” on your roof. Amen.
*Side Note: Not that I condone the beating of any child. But you’ve got to admit, the threat of a beating would come in pretty handy.