Murray swart I wish Santa were real

AS WE LIVE in a world of social media and proactive illiteracy, I’ve decided to risk ending some poor unfortunate soul’s childhood by telling the truth. There is no Santa Claus. Think about it, if there were some jolly old fat guy sneaking into the houses of good South African children, people would be up in arms.

Firstly, nothing brings us together like a braai with a twist, and a piece of reindeer on the spit, for mahala, could be too good to pass up.

We wouldn’t even struggle to get to them. All it takes is one encounter with an electric fence and Rudolph’s little red nose would cast a shimmering light to alert all and sundry of the Christmas miracle.

Standing in the shadows, drenched in sweat as a result of his impractically warm suit, of Coca-Cola’s design, Santa is pissed.

However, like many strangers to our times, culture and country, his rage soon changes to confusion, then surprise, fear and then, shear terror.

Unable to satisfy any requests for R2 or a cigarette, the tsotsis take his boots and jacket, smack him on the side of the head and tell him to voetsek back to where he came from.

Gathering his thoughts and few remaining belongings, Santa looks at his “naughty and nice” list and falls back to the ground. “Those were the good boys and girls,” he mutters.

As terrifyingly terrific as that set of circumstances may sound, if Santa were real, this would only be a likelihood but far from worst-case scenario.

Just think, he may very well be shot on sight or worse yet … slide down a chimney in Saxonwold.

I wish Santa were real. I would ask him where all the bad girls live. Sadly, he isn’t.

It was all make-believe and we were made to believe. Our parents lied to us. And now, we are lying to our children.

Now, we are convincing another generation to put their hopes and dreams in something that doesn’t exist.

We draw a smattering of self-serving consolation with fallacies about the “magic of Christmas” and the “wonder of childhood” when in actual fact, we are grooming them for a future where they are violated in ways their “innocent minds” could and should never comprehend.

We aren’t teaching them that anything is possible if you believe. We are teaching them to believe that anything is possible.

We are teaching them that everyone will lie to your face and you are expected to believe them. This continues until you find out it was all rubbish. A kak storie

... Then you have to forgive them.

This is life. It sucks being a child. It sucks being a teenager. Most of all, it sucks that there is no Santa.

He doesn’t exist but his influence is undeniable, especially around Christmas and election time.

Like kids waiting for Christmas, voters wait for elections, counting the sleeps and making the wishes.

Both hear promises of what will happen if they are good and are warned of the pitfalls of disobedience.

Both comply.

Both believe in magic and morals.

Sadly, both are inevitably disappointed and learn that every lyric was a lie.

Both have realised that their best efforts were futile.

Both have learned a valuable lesson about believing and trusting and nobody put out milk and cookies.