We take pleasure in answering at once and thus prominently the communication below, expressing at the same time our great gratification that its faithful author is numbered among the friends of BPWWOO:
I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, if you see it on Ben Pobjie's blog, it's so. Please tell me the truth: is there a Santa Claus?
Virginia O'Hanlon (deceased)
Your little friends are right (and what's the deal with you calling them "my little friends"? What are they, mice?). They have been affacted by the scepticism of a sceptical age, which is a good thing, because by being sceptical we learn to get a grip on reality and stop believing ludicrous bullshit like Santa Claus. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little - but yours is littler than most, judging by the fact you're eight years old and still haven't figured this out. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world around him. This is why he makes up idiotic fairytales to keep himself amused, like the one you continue to fall for.
No, Virginia, there is no Santa Claus. How dreary would the world be if there were no Santa Claus? Not very dreary at all. There is love and generosity and devotion: aren't these enough without conjuring up fat elves to convince ourselves that the world is more exciting than it really is? Seriously, if you need Santa Claus to make the world interesting, you are a very dull-minded and ungrateful child and you ought to be ashamed of yourself.
Not believe in Santa Claus! Yes, indeed you should not believe in Santa Claus. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, because fairies don't exist, moron. Neither does Santa - that's why you never see him. Duh!
Really, Virginia, you need to take a good hard look at yourself. Think about it for a second. Santa delivers presents to all the children of the world in a single night? You thought that was possible? Do you have even the slightest knowledge of basic physics? You realise the speeds Santa would have to travel at to do this? He would burst into flames! And with flying reindeer? Come on, Virginia, try to engage your brain here.
You think it's just a coincidence you always get much better presents than your poor friend with the unemployed dad? You think the poor kids must have been "naughty" every year? And how did you think Santa knew who was naughty or nice anyway? He's been spying on every kid in the world? That didn't creep you out even a little bit, this old man peering at you all the time? I bet your Papa wouldn't be too happy to see "Santa" looking through your bedroom window of a night, or asking you if you'd been naughty. I don't think Papa would like that at ALL. Luckily, Papa knows there's no Santa Claus, because he's not a cretin.
So in summary, Virginia, you believed that an old man lives at the North Pole (!) with a bunch of elves - a species that has not been observed ANYwhere on the planet throughout recorded history - and some magic reindeer, and that this old man is capable of making all the toys and synthesising all the commercially-packaged consumer goods that the children of the western world receive each Christmas, and delivering them to EVERY SINGLE ONE in a single night, once a year. Except for the naughty ones, because he's able to determine their behaviour by keeping tabs on all of them 24/7 throughout the previous 12 months. This is what you believed.
Are you fucking retarded, Virginia?
Wake up to yourself, Virginia. And while you're at it, wake up to your parents, who have been shamelessly lying to you your entire life. Lying and deceiving and laughing about it behind your back, mocking your ignorance and lack of critical thinking skills. The world is full of monsters, Virginia, but are not your parents perhaps the worst of these?
A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, Santa Claus will continue to make glad the heart of childhood. Because parents are lying scum and kids like you are irretrievably stupid.
Grow up, Virginia. Stop being such a halfwit, and maybe your "little friends" will stop beating you up. There is no Santa Claus, Virginia, and it's obvious to anyone with half a goddamn brain. Jesus Christ.
Never write to me again.