posted on Thursday, December 13th, 2007 at 4:55 pm
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Sadly, my toddler loves Santas of all stripes.
I now have the plot-line for a 1st-person shooter: a father takes his daughter with him shopping and has to shoot the Santas before she sees them and demands an interminable audience. Don’t fret—he can use a bean-bag gun or a Tazer.
is there a scientific term for the phobia of santas? i couldn’t find it at phobialist.com. could it be an offshoot of coulrophobia?
maybe it’s actually not a fear of santa, but rather a fear of overstressed professional photographers during the holiday season. maybe there’s a phobia term for that.
Sure there’s a Santa Claus, Little Jimmy! He’s as real as you an me, and he watches all the good little boys and girls every day with his thousands of horrible insect eyes.
You see Santa lives in the North Pole where he crashed to earth thousands a years ago in the time before time, when the Jolly Ones walked the earth and stalked primitive man in the halls of the Jingle King. Now he sleeps beneath the frozen wastes waiting for the one time a year when the stars are right and he can rise from the ice to spread toys an goodies an Christmas cheer an feast on the brains of naughty children everywhere. Oh I’m sure he’ll bring you that bike you asked for, Little Annie – as long as you believe.
Every year around Christmastime Santa’s little helpers set up thrones for Santa in thousands of Santa temples across the land so allll the children a the world can come an swear their allegiance to his jolly name. If you’ve been good he’ll give you a candy cane! If you’ve been bad his unholy gaze will fill you with a burning madness that will consume you for the rest of your days. Oh don’t cry Little Timmy! It’s a real good candy cane.
And that’s where Christmas comes from! Hey, is that the magical sound a sleigh bells in the air? Run off to bed quick, kids! Santa’s on his way, an you don’t wanna be awake when he leaves you that toy truck under the Christmas tree, or opens the door to Y’thmagn’hm, who stands by the gate of madness and whose father is the creeping abyss that cannot die!Damn, I miss Fafblog.
It’s surprising how many photos the parents and kids are much scarier than the Santas.
It does add an extra layer to the Philip-Larkinism of parenting:
Sit on this strange man’s lap and take a gift from him. His name is Santa.
Stay away from strangers and never take gifts from them
There’s no Santa
I was very confused for a minute or so there by the title attached to that photo being “Sacred of Santa”, as I couldn’t find anything about it that could be considered sacred.
Why put your child in such a position anyway? Fooling your child into believing that this fictional character is associated to Christ-mass -crazy!
My major point is I don’t think parents should lie to their children unless it is a matter of life or death. ‘No,honey, Santa does not exist. It is a figment of people’s imagination. They are all lying to their children and I don’t want to lie to you anymore and I’m sorry for ever having told you a lie too’ – would be good as a starter.
What do you think?! http://blackwomanthinks.blogspot.com
Sadly, my toddler loves Santas of all stripes.
I now have the plot-line for a 1st-person shooter: a father takes his daughter with him shopping and has to shoot the Santas before she sees them and demands an interminable audience. Don’t fret—he can use a bean-bag gun or a Tazer.
is there a scientific term for the phobia of santas? i couldn’t find it at phobialist.com. could it be an offshoot of coulrophobia?
maybe it’s actually not a fear of santa, but rather a fear of overstressed professional photographers during the holiday season. maybe there’s a phobia term for that.
I know nothing about kids, but might some toddlers be just as scared if their parents handed them off to any random old man?
I think that’s the point, Luci. Most of the kids in those photos have no fucking idea who the weird, scary old man is that mom just gave them.
My daughter was never particularly bothered by Santa. I do remember both of my younger brothers bawling their eyes out, though.
Reminds me of a Fafblog classic:
You see Santa lives in the North Pole where he crashed to earth thousands a years ago in the time before time, when the Jolly Ones walked the earth and stalked primitive man in the halls of the Jingle King. Now he sleeps beneath the frozen wastes waiting for the one time a year when the stars are right and he can rise from the ice to spread toys an goodies an Christmas cheer an feast on the brains of naughty children everywhere. Oh I’m sure he’ll bring you that bike you asked for, Little Annie – as long as you believe.
Every year around Christmastime Santa’s little helpers set up thrones for Santa in thousands of Santa temples across the land so allll the children a the world can come an swear their allegiance to his jolly name. If you’ve been good he’ll give you a candy cane! If you’ve been bad his unholy gaze will fill you with a burning madness that will consume you for the rest of your days. Oh don’t cry Little Timmy! It’s a real good candy cane.
And that’s where Christmas comes from! Hey, is that the magical sound a sleigh bells in the air? Run off to bed quick, kids! Santa’s on his way, an you don’t wanna be awake when he leaves you that toy truck under the Christmas tree, or opens the door to Y’thmagn’hm, who stands by the gate of madness and whose father is the creeping abyss that cannot die!Damn, I miss Fafblog.
The ‘Damn, I miss Fafblog’ part was not, of course, part of the quote from Fafblog.
Also, Santa breaks into your house at night when you are asleep. My son was hysterical about that the year he was 3.
At 5, he is now happy to talk to Santas.
One of the most outrageous photos I have is of my daughter losing her tiny shit in the lap of a giant Easter Bunny!
It’s surprising how many photos the parents and kids are much scarier than the Santas.
It does add an extra layer to the Philip-Larkinism of parenting:
Sit on this strange man’s lap and take a gift from him. His name is Santa.
Stay away from strangers and never take gifts from them
There’s no Santa
I was a timid child and scared to death of Santa. I mean, having to sit in the lap of a loud, strange man with a huge beard? I don’t think so!
Besides, “he sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake” really does sound downright creepy. Stalin Claus is coming to town!
One of the most outrageous photos I have is of my daughter losing her tiny shit in the lap of a giant Easter Bunny!
Giant Easter Bunnies are fuck’n scary. Every April I rig up bug spray and a Bic and get ready to flame any of those bastards.
Even Harvey hates them, and he’s a Pooka!
I was very confused for a minute or so there by the title attached to that photo being “Sacred of Santa”, as I couldn’t find anything about it that could be considered sacred.
I find myself strangely satisfied whenever I see a small child burst into tears at the sight of Santa. Am I sick?
Why put your child in such a position anyway? Fooling your child into believing that this fictional character is associated to Christ-mass -crazy!
My major point is I don’t think parents should lie to their children unless it is a matter of life or death. ‘No,honey, Santa does not exist. It is a figment of people’s imagination. They are all lying to their children and I don’t want to lie to you anymore and I’m sorry for ever having told you a lie too’ – would be good as a starter.
What do you think?!
http://blackwomanthinks.blogspot.com