Man Of The Hour
A historical figure, a beloved figure, a hopeful figure in a troubled world. Sinter Klaus! Saint Nicholas. Santa Claus - or, to use the dearly familiar; good ol' Santa. The man - or the elf, take your pick - is truly a marvel. He has enjoyed a long tradition of pleasing just about everyone. Holding out hope to millions of children during the darkest days of the year when the Winter Equinox falls into place and we're left bereft of daylight.
Out comes the Christmas tree, bedecked with tinsel and coloured lights to bright up the gloom of a winter's night. And with it, holly and garlands of green looped here and there. And dancing lights strewn along rooflines, atop garden trees and bushes. Inflatable replicas of Santa, of his elfs, of Rudolf, Santa's red-nosed reindeer. Dark descends and the environment is lit in all the colours most rainbows could only dream of.
And there he is, that rolly polly, red-cheeked, white-whiskered, barrel-belly elf of a man, promising much, delivering the goods. His serial careers, as toy maker, shop-keeper, good-cheer ambassador, child behaviourist is an enviable one. He admonishes children to be good, and they listen. They write to this beacon of happiness at his North Pole address and he somehow manages to find the time - between supervising his countless manufacturing elfs and planning his Christmas Eve route - to respond.
The fact is, his twinkling blue eyes peering through those steel-rimmed eyeglasses recognize all children's need to be rewarded - just for being children. To him it doesn't really matter whether they're "naughty or nice" they're just children, after all. But he's an agreeable man-elf and in trying to please the parents who continue to insist that their children be nice, not naughty, else they forfeit gifts, he plays their game too.
As well he might, since it would appear from a recently-revealed poll that it is not only children who believe in the actual, real-life presence of Santa, but their conspiring parents as well. We've read from time to time that it an expressed belief among reasoning, intelligent adults that they believe in Lucifer just as they do in the presence of angels. Well, it would seem, a sizeable proportion of adults admit to a similar belief in Santa.
Doesn't the mind boggle? On the other hand, given that canny public relations types and advertisers repeat his visage and ample frame repeatedly to sell Christmas-season products and goods, it makes sense, more or less. Santa is called upon to rivet potential customers' attention to all manner of gifts and goods, the better to express the purpose of the season - the cash-register ballet.
Coca-Cola knows all about enticing people to a lifestyle of happiness and satisfaction through consumption, and they started the whole thing, more or less. No, not Santa himself; his tradition was more spiritual than commercial, brought to the world by the fourth-century Christian bishop St. Nicholas, since traduced by modern corporate interests to commerce and in the process make everyone happy.
The sanctification of Christ's purported birth in Bethlehem transposed to the Santafication of Christmas in Bountyland.
Out comes the Christmas tree, bedecked with tinsel and coloured lights to bright up the gloom of a winter's night. And with it, holly and garlands of green looped here and there. And dancing lights strewn along rooflines, atop garden trees and bushes. Inflatable replicas of Santa, of his elfs, of Rudolf, Santa's red-nosed reindeer. Dark descends and the environment is lit in all the colours most rainbows could only dream of.
And there he is, that rolly polly, red-cheeked, white-whiskered, barrel-belly elf of a man, promising much, delivering the goods. His serial careers, as toy maker, shop-keeper, good-cheer ambassador, child behaviourist is an enviable one. He admonishes children to be good, and they listen. They write to this beacon of happiness at his North Pole address and he somehow manages to find the time - between supervising his countless manufacturing elfs and planning his Christmas Eve route - to respond.
The fact is, his twinkling blue eyes peering through those steel-rimmed eyeglasses recognize all children's need to be rewarded - just for being children. To him it doesn't really matter whether they're "naughty or nice" they're just children, after all. But he's an agreeable man-elf and in trying to please the parents who continue to insist that their children be nice, not naughty, else they forfeit gifts, he plays their game too.
As well he might, since it would appear from a recently-revealed poll that it is not only children who believe in the actual, real-life presence of Santa, but their conspiring parents as well. We've read from time to time that it an expressed belief among reasoning, intelligent adults that they believe in Lucifer just as they do in the presence of angels. Well, it would seem, a sizeable proportion of adults admit to a similar belief in Santa.
Doesn't the mind boggle? On the other hand, given that canny public relations types and advertisers repeat his visage and ample frame repeatedly to sell Christmas-season products and goods, it makes sense, more or less. Santa is called upon to rivet potential customers' attention to all manner of gifts and goods, the better to express the purpose of the season - the cash-register ballet.
Coca-Cola knows all about enticing people to a lifestyle of happiness and satisfaction through consumption, and they started the whole thing, more or less. No, not Santa himself; his tradition was more spiritual than commercial, brought to the world by the fourth-century Christian bishop St. Nicholas, since traduced by modern corporate interests to commerce and in the process make everyone happy.
The sanctification of Christ's purported birth in Bethlehem transposed to the Santafication of Christmas in Bountyland.
posted by Pieface @ 6:25 PM
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