Eagle Era

The logic of the Christmas tradition is twisted and makes no sense

By Ryan Liu

Humor/Features Editor

Ever since the 17th century, Christmas has been marketed as a period of joy, generosity, and unity. This reputation is extremely impressive, given that the holiday runs on constant surveillance, stress, and a guy in a red jumpsuit who breaks into billions of homes for a living. So every year when December rolls around, all of us Christmas-enthusiasts collectively decide not to ask any questions and start hanging neon lights on dead trees.

The mascot of Christmas is Santa Claus, a big red-suited huggable guy who incidentally happens to be the world’s biggest stalker. To this day, he continues to reject accusations of his unusual behavior. “To be completely honest, I don’t see it as surveillance, but more so a way to… uhh…raise awareness about children’s mental health. Plus, tracking sleep patterns is just a way to ensure that I don’t disturb anyone when I break in—I mean, consensually enter their homes,” he said.

Shortly after Lockur Doors leaked information regarding his home’s invasion, Claus went forward with his plans to “dispose of any evidence.” Doors were never heard from again after that incident (Photo Credit: Ryan Liu (11)).

Claus’s gargantuan workforce raises additional questions; he and his army, consisting of the entire elf species—always smiling and never taking a break—operate at such a high speed that his factory makes Bill Gates look like a novice entrepreneur. Ian M. Grinch (11), an avid opponent of Christmas, said, “You know, no one knows what Santa is doing up there in the North Pole. What even are those elves? Employees? Volunteers? Unpaid laborers? We will never find out because last I checked, there are no OSHA offices up there.”

Then there’s the biggest concern on his list of crimes, namely his annual invasion of private residences. Lockur Doors (9), one of the few people who has actually seen Santa with their own eyes, said, “I was just trying to get a quick midnight snack when I felt a large presence behind me. When I turned around, we locked eyes. He just slowly put a handful of coal in my sock, nodded at me, and squirmed up my chimney. I’m not sure about you, but I felt very threatened.”

Other Christmas traditions don’t get much better either. “I have had that same dead pine tree sitting in my garage under a musty tarp for 10 years now,” said Pinet Rees (10), an AP Environmental Science student. “That poor thing has shed most of its pines by now, and still my family embellishes its corpse with plastic balls and fluorescent LEDs.”

Despite all the questions and concerns the community has, Christmas shows no sign of deterioration. Year after year, Claus’s Big Brother-esque behavior remains tolerated, his recurring trespassings are welcomed, and his misconduct gets hidden under his fluffy coat. As a leaving remark, Claus said, “People’s trust in me changes. My forced entry does not. I will see you all very soon.”