Guest Post by Hardscrabble Farmer
In the United States it is commonplace for parents to tell their children that every Christmas a complete stranger with magical powers flies from the North Pole to deliver gifts made by elves. In order to perpetuate this belief in their young and trusting offspring they will spend large sums of money on gifts that they will pretend were placed under the Christmas tree while they slept. Often they will embellish this fairy tale by leaving out mugs of cocoa, plates full of cookies and even little bowls of carrots to feed this mythical man’s flying reindeer or use an old pair of boots to leave prints in the snow.
They repeat this fictional play-act year after year until their children either deduce the truth on their own, or worse, are informed by some snot-nosed classmate a day or two before Christmas vacation kicks in. When confronted the parents will rarely cop to it preferring rather to come up with sad attempt to rationalize the deception or to equivocate, turning a formerly real character into some kind of nebulous ‘spirit of giving’ alter-ego that is neither here nor there.
I’m almost sixty and I can still remember how much it stung to discover the truth, caring far less about the loss of Santa than at the egregious breach of trust I felt had occurred between myself and the two people I trusted most. Over time I softened, of course. They were my parents and they weren’t doing it for malicious reasons and even after I found out the truth they continued to put presents under the tree, occasionally marking tag with a melancholy “From Santa” well into my teens.
They meant well and they’d just gone along with a tradition that they’d been raised with for reasons they probably never really thought out and I know that what they gave to me was based on their love. When my wife and I had our first child I remember wrapping the gifts in a different kind of wrapping paper than the kind we’d used for the gifts we gave one another to help maintain the subterfuge, managing to scrawl in large cursive letters, “From Santa”. I didn’t know why I felt bad when I did it, leaving out the cookies and milk and and watching him write his sweet little thank-you in pre-school scrawl for an imaginary fat man in a red suit, but I did.
I was at that time very conscious about telling the truth to my son, about making sure that no matter how young he was that there was a firm code of how to behave, and a value to be placed on being honest. I vaguely recall having a conversation with my wife about it and she was inclined to just go with the flow since he would only be a little boy for just so long and so we kept up with it even though it gnawed at me. I understood that it was what most people would deem a ‘white lie’ as if that made it better, but what bothered me was what I knew lay beyond the horizon of the next five or six years when my son would run into the genetic offspring of the snot nosed kid who tipped me off, or knowing my son, when he was able to notice our handwriting on the gift tags.
I knew with absolute certainty that at some point when he was not yet grown up, he would have to look at me as someone who had not only failed to tell him the truth, but had kept up a years long elaborate charade to deliberately mislead him. I felt that was much worse than catching me telling someone on the phone that I was busy when I was in actuality reading a book or looking at arrowheads. Those are fibs or semi-disclosures and even though I find that kind of waffling improper, it’s not the same thing as a coordinated conspiracy spanning and entire lifetime.
Most people have only a vague and hazy understanding of how this figure managed to worm his way into our collective consciousness and if you read something like wikipedia they’ll give you an even hazier adjunct version that makes it seem like people have been in on the deception in order to give kids gifts since Arminius defeated the legions at Tetoburg Forest. There’s tiny bits and pieces that have been stripped from the heritage of a half a dozen European cultures and then sewn together like Frankenstein’s monster.
The origins can be found in the hazy past of early Greek Christianity in the form of Saint Nicholas who, if memory serves, pulled the severed limbs of children from a vat of brine where they’d been pickled by fourth century cannibals and then rejoined them in one of his three required miracles, reassembled them and brought them back to life. That’s the kind of detail most folks leave out when they tuck the kids in on Christmas Eve if they even know it at all. Then they added in a Viking era chimney sweep named Sinter Klaas, named curiously enough for his ‘cindered clothes’ who climbs down the down into the fireplace where he spends an inordinate amount of time fussing with children’s shoes.
Nothing creepy about that. The rest of the accoutrements from the ermine trimmed red robes to the flying reindeer were added piecemeal over the years, merging in with a fictional English Father Christmas around the end of the 19th century until an advertising genius by the name of Thomas Nast (of the Conde/Nast Fake News Cartel) came up with a brilliant idea to stimulate seasonally slow consumer spending and introduced, Santa Claus.
Years ago when I was in Hollywood staying with another comic somewhere off the Sunset Strip, I went out walking at night. If your not from Los Angeles it’s hard to understand just how odd it is to see anyone who isn’t homeless walking. It’s an easy way to identify and out-of-towner or someone fleeing the scene of a crime, but if you happen to be either one of those, and for the purposes of full disclosure I was the former, it’s also a great way to spend some quality alone time.
One night after we’d taped a TV show I just wanted to wander the streets beneath the Hollywood sign. It was warm enough to walk around in shirts sleeves and for most of the stroll I enjoyed myself, looking up at the towering palm trees that lined the boulevards of a city that seemed almost mythic to me. I was surprised by a few things that I saw along the way, the absence of other people on such a beautiful evening, the cracks in virtually every concrete block wall I passed, maybe half of them patched a reminder of the last earthquake and the ceaseless sound of sirens.
It was if there had been some great disaster and I was one of the few survivors. The houses, most of them either hacienda style bungalows with terra cotta roofs or sixties era apartment blocks surrounded by wrought iron fences and gates lined every street. As I walked I began to notice something that struck me first as odd and then as a monumental discovery that had escaped everyone else but me. While I made my way from one block to the next, I could see the lights in each domicile, in every bachelor pad and squat, the subtle but ubiquitous blue glow of television sets.
That’s what we called them back then, before flat screens came to market with their high definition, Blu-ray improvements. Television sets. And in every single home I passed once I’d noted this, I could see it; the soft luminescent flickering of movement, like candlelight, but colder. I remember picking up my pace because there was no way that the next house would have their television on as well, and yet there it was, one dwelling after another with it’s residents tucked in for the evening, eyes fixed on the movement and sounds that came from their screens.
Each one in his or her own isolation, yet sharing the exact same view. I remember how it came to me like a lightening bolt, a sudden falling of all the pieces into perfect alignment. Like I said at that time I had only just finished taping and episode of a program I hoped that people would watch, in fact counted on to help promote my own career. I certainly wasn’t thinking about the things I do today, and I definitely wasn’t able to make the connections I can now, but I knew what I saw. If you think of us, our species, we are constantly modifying our behaviors and our beliefs, we’re faddish and easily influenced by crowds or authority figures, but we are also creatures of habit.
The longer we behave in certain ways the more firmly these habits become our destiny. As I stood out there in the darkness of Tinsel Town pondering what had been revealed to me I looked for a way to turn it into a joke. That was my routine with any observation I made that caught my attention, but this seemed profound somehow, an epiphany and I tried to edit the thought into as few words as possible so I wouldn’t lose it before I got back to the apartment. For tens, perhaps hundreds of thousands of years human beings would withdraw in the darkness of their shelters at the end of the day, like the populations of our cities do today, and to feel some sense of security, to protect themselves from whatever was out there, they would build their fires.
And they would huddle around them, at ease now and stare into the flickering glow. And in those flashes of burning wood stories would be told, and the two sensations, the ever moving light of the fire and susurrus of a voice recounting some event or giving instruction would blend together, catalyzing, leading to a near somnolence in those who sat in that cave or hut. And in those hours before the soft shimmering phosphoresce we learned, we absorbed, we assimilated whatever we heard, mesmerized, entranced.
As little as one hundred years ago, a blip in the human experience if you think about, we dampened our hearths and turned away from the fire, stopped telling each other our deepest secrets and sharing the enduring wisdom of the ages and we turned our faces to the cold stare of the screen. And those habits formed over epochs remained. We still stare transfixed by the motion of the ever moving lights, still long for and hear the stories and let them seep into our consciousness, though they are not ours. The trick remains, the way the deepest part of our mind opens up and allows it all to fill in the gaps and spaces between what we could have been and what they want us to be. And in the end the thousands upon thousands of little fibs accrete inside, and construct for us an empire of lies.
I think a great deal about the truth these days and perhaps it is a symptom of my age. In my early years I did not give it the kind of consideration I should have, and perhaps that failure led to where I am today. I know that like most Americans the bulk of everything that I was ever taught was, in some part, a shabby Frankenstein of half-truths, like Santa, assembled from the bits and pieces of histories taught around the fading embers of a long extinguished fire.
Some parts ring true because they are, but the rest of it, the prompts of the consumer culture, and the demands of the conquering classes are simply falsehoods meant to separate us further; from our money, from our past and from each other. It has always been our responsibility to be straightforward and frank, but we have ceded that obligation in exchange for acceptance of a culture bereft of value. We wear what we wear, and shop where we shop, and vote how we vote based on the subtle influences of the men who tell us the stories we want to hear, but which do not satisfy, in front of lights that do not warm us.
I erred, I think now, when I lied to my children to promote a myth written by an ad man a century ago, but I have tried to atone for leading them astray. It isn’t popular to speak truthfully in a world that worships fantastic lies, but if we are aware of it, we are obligated to do what we can. It’s important still, even if almost no one agrees, to thine ownself, be true.
Come join us for an evening of truth and firelight. Tickets still available.
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I don’t remember being upset when I found out that Santa was a fantasy. I do remember feeling uncomfortable perpetuating the fantasy after my two daughters were born.
Whenever I tell people that we do not have cable or satellite they tend to either disbelieve me or look at me like I have two heads. Younger people get it since they stream but older people are never going to give it up. I noticed the same thing when I was living in town. Going for evening walks and seeing the TV glowing in every living room.
Telling the truth will get you similar looks of disbelief.
We’ve long known that ‘it’s called programming for a reason’ is truth. As such, we’ve not had television for well over 30 years. We too see the ‘blue lights’ of the on-going programming & weep for our country. Didn’t Twain say something along the lines of: if you get info from the MSM, you’re misinformed, if you don’t, you’re uninformed. (Paraphrasing liberally).
No TV at all for the last decade. The cable terminates at my next door neighbor’s house, and the cable company wanted $10,000 to string it 5 telephone poles to my house. I told them to pound sand. I have limited internet bandwidth per month, so no streaming, either. I’ve since learned how much of an incredible waste of time is spent watching ‘the boob tube’. I don’t miss it at all, and found that I’m much happier pursuing my own interests.
I estimate that 90% of the things that we have learned growing up are lies or truths that have been twisted beyond recognition. Yes – our parents, teachers and politicians have lied to us, but in many cases they perpetuated lies that were passed down to them; just like Santa’s story.
Where should I start: Climate change? 9/11? USS Cole? Benghazi? Gulf of Tonkin? USS Liberty? Pearl Harbor? The moon landings? JFK?
I’m looking forward to seeing everyone at the 1st annual TBP Independence Day Celebration!
I built my current home two years ago on 40 acres an hour away from the closest “big” city (pop. 90K). I wired it for phone service and internet but NOT for television. I don’t want to stare mindlessly at a screen.
I limit my internet time to emails, research and reading several of my favorite blogs. I’ve got too much to do outside to waste my life away staring at a screen.
I wish more people felt that way…
I envy you Semi. I could do without TV but my wife is addicted. She can’t stand the silence. I can’t stand the constant noise. I go off somewhere to read. She gets pissed because I don’t spend more time with her. Hence my man-cave on separate property 4 miles from home.
Last sentence.
BOOM!
Wow!
We have about 27 years to go to get to 100 years of TV broadcast reception in Southern homes (1946-2046). I remember seeing the first TV probably for miles in 1949; we kids would sit quietly on the owners porch and watch through their screen door. There is a natural cycle of things in America: Innovators create something, NYC Investors buy it and exploit it for profit, their Secular Humanist pervert it, normal people reject it. TV programming is now clearly of and for low IQ metro-sexual degenerates and will die like Ghetto Malls.
On an especially energetic storm-charged atmosphere, we used to “pick up” channel 7 out of Evansville, which at the time was ABC and had shows we have never seen, since all we had was CBS and NBC. It was “snowy” at best, but we watched until the image faded out.
Or the Crystal River Mall.
It’s also for elderly people who love it and didn’t have it when they were kids, like my mother. She watches reruns of the old shows and old movies.
Same with my mom, VV. At 88, it’s her daily enjoyment….especially Gunsmoke :O)
Excellent writing with great insight.
When my children were still small it dawned on me that we were telling them about Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and Jesus Christ and that by the time they were 10 or so they would figure out that the wife and I had lied about SC and the EB. They would probably think we lied about JC also.
SC and EB went in the garbage at that time. Still uncertain about our handling of JC but they can’t say we didn’t come clean on the other.
Keep up the good work and get well soon. I’m having to ration the last quart of syrup.
My Swedish Grandfather had this way of looking straight ahead while talking , all the while looking at you from the side of his eyes. To look directly at what your being spoon fed since a child like the way all the glitter and sparkles blinds the sight. Code is code, just as our Holy Bible is codex. It all fits together real nice the way Santa sends his (HIS) messengers out of the periphery of human consciousness like the way some beings read us from the other side of the pages as we are skimming words left to right. This is not the time of place to share (looks from side to side)cough cough cough tools from the toolkit, and instead offer questions to ponder such as red or green Santa?
(REAP or Sow?) close encounters of the third kind? If Santa were kind of scary up really really near? , to contrive a syntax without dissonance, elevated towards a quickening with regalia of The Holy Spirit (reindeer) and (Santa) The Holy Ghost. I heard one kingdom is here and known , and was told someone needed to hear the other is coming.
Human consciousness has a frequency and vibration. If you saw the word of God (The Lord) , chances are if you survived it would take decades to conjure a symposium of words to relay a small inkling of the magnitude of majesty
as though trembling like a leaf. Our creator is not imaginary, and it is not wise to argue with contempt of belief. Santa is around the shortcut radius pi squared circumferentially adroit with hidden in sight as though highlighting
anomalously the time like eggs at Easter deep within our rhythm. When the lights come on (we all die sometime)
you know all of this already, especially the way the sky scrolls down as we rise up, spiraling on a current of energy.
There is a mechanical being in the matrix trilogy? Santa is not mechanical. If you were to look within Santas eyes?
before you see, there is a juxtaposition that takes place without decree, although consent is given now through
belief or not. Those that believe allow for a communion of spirit to entwine then envelope consciousness delivering us from the abyss of doubt, as though a circuit were completed (lightning) ground. serpentine illumination like the candle of both ends, what is in Santas bag? Whatever is in their we could guarantee that it involves work; extra.
Give or take?
That was like being right there with you in LA, feeling the residue of heat from concrete, the summer’s breeze, and seeing the blue flickers of faux fires.
In fact, I often see similar scenes while driving through towns at night.
Just some random musings here:
Because I had been asking, my ma told me about Santa while on a trip down south, on a ferris wheel, and on my 7th birthday. Perhaps she wanted to lessen the blow. Truth is, I knew.
My kids, however, we’re more astute then their dad was at their age. So I made a deal with them to wait until their 6th birthdays. In my house, we defined lies as falsehoods to either inappropriately protect oneself, or make oneself dishonestly appear cool. So, technically, Santa didn’t fit the definition of a lie, per se.
Santa was more along the lines of telling Grandma she didn’t look fat when she asked; or good-natured fun and sweetness for the sake of others.
I will also say when I was around 12, I woke up on Christmas morning at my cousins’ home in the suburbs of a large city. I stepped outside that morning and peered down over the hills and saw as many houses as there were trees in my own neighborhood at home. I remember thinking of all the families together that morning, and of Norman Rockwell paintings; if you can believe it.
Truth is, for me anyway, Santa didn’t matter before and he didn’t matter later either. Both as a kid, and as a parent, he was fun while he lasted; in spite of all his pagan vileness. ?
I don’t know what else to say, other than to tell you how much I enjoy your writing and that I would like nothing more than to shoot the shit with you around a fire one day. Ya’ never know
Make it so.
Were you able to make a joke about it and if so, how did it go?
Uncola said,
I see the lights coming from the inside of passing-by cars and trucks….drivers and passengers alike.
SATAN
SANTA
Coincidence?
None at all…
Teaching by David Reid… guaranteed to make you wonder.
Or repent!
Satire on idolatry by the prophet Jeramiah (chapter 10: 1-5)KJV
3. For the customs of the peoples are vain; for one cutteth a tree out of the forest, the work of the hands of the workman, with the axe. 4. They deck it with silver and gold; they fasten it with nails and with hammers, that it move not….
It walks like a duck, it quacks like a duck, it must be a Christmas tree (and by default—Santa Claus)
“Their worship is a farce, for they teach man-made ideas as commands from God. Therefore the Lord said: “These people draw near to Me with their mouths and honor Me with their lips, but their hearts are far from Me. Their worship of Me is but rules taught by men. (which all refer to things destined to perish with use)– in accordance with the commandments and teachings of men?
All of these things will be destroyed as they are used, because they are based on human commands and teachings.
Since they did not know the righteousness of God and sought to establish their own, they did not submit to God’s righteousness.
Sadly when we, for centuries, have passed along these pagan, man-made doctrines our worship is in vain. Idolatry is what it is and adultery against a Holy God.
When/if….we do come to realize what the Holy Scripture actually says….Will it be too late? …..when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?”
Does anybody care that the majority of humanity will be on the wide path that leads to their destruction??
I am fully persuaded on the basis of the truth of the Written Word of God!
Shoot, I have been here a long time. Don’t mean to inflict any more physical pain on you, but you could go break another leg. I only had to read this twice until I got its full import—usually it’s about three times or more. I am not too bright….
Thank you. However, that was a joke about breaking another limb that I hope you understand. Personally have broken a collar bone and the same ankle twice. Mine were way less severe than yours but until one has been there, it is beyond comprehension .
What an incredible sagacious intellect you have.
All the best to you!
I asked the wisest man I have read, what is American culture? Stuck didn’t have a good answer. I wrote recently about the problem of trying to integrate into a society that is so varied that even the definition of white isn’t solidified; it’s subjective, like that snide meme, “my type is: not you”.
The best response I can come up with when confronted with the question about integration is the one my buddy gave me; he asked if I was going to the bbq. I deferred, I hadn’t contributed. He said, you’re here aren’t you? That is the best way to look at my Americanness; I’m here, just like the queers and dykes and banksters and lying politicos and warmongers and haters. We are all here in the primordial stew of Americanness breathing, shitting, farting into the collective environment, what biologists would call a culture in this giant Petri dish called America.
I really hope you can find a way to make it out here in July so you could DJ.
Your taste in music is fairly eclectic. In a good way.
My granpa loved to repeat that old saying, the devil knows more for being old than for being the devil.
Mas sabe el diablo por viejo que por diablo.
I have come to accept the truth that the American songbook is the best. Juan Gabriel fought the established music scene where Spanish artists ruled the airwaves. Like Elvis and Madonna dominating music in the US, Juan Gabriel ruled and went on to turn Mexico’s music scene into trash.
After Cream, rock died because it had nowhere to go. It was like Michael Jordan or Alexander the Great having nothing else to prove. That may be our current problem; after the 50’s, there was no more sky. That may be the culmination and death of empires when the best has come and gone.
“That may be the culmination and death of empires when the best has come and gone.”
I know, right?
Whenever I hear Sinatra it brings back my Grandfather. Muchas gracias.
Last spring I had a nightly experience similar to your own in LA, walking my dog Gryffy down the street past the darkened brick ranch houses and up the hill where the new residents keep the former pastures mowed and unused. Every house had the television on. No one was outside to enjoy their natural environment, not even just sitting and talking in their lawn chairs drinks in hand. They were inside oblivious to the clouds passing by in the moonlight or the stars or the rare meteors flashing across the sky. Up on the hill I would look down on the lights of our little river town and hear the coal trains pulling the long grade up the valley while all my neighbors sat like zombies absorbing the pap, lies, fantasies and propaganda projected onto their eyeballs and into their brains.
You should see the hallways at your local high schools or state colleges…
Epidemic proportions of walking with their eyes down, staring at their phones, ear buds in so they don’t have to pretend to engage in social interaction…
Crazy times….
I see so many going down flights of stairs, eyes glued to their screens…
Hahaha
A couple of years ago there was a short British public service video showing a young woman and man passing each other on an urban residential street, heads down looking at their cell phones. The scene replays with them walking normally heads up and the guy asks the woman directions. They chat and she offers to show him the way. Flash forward in time and they are walking side by side, talking and pushing a pram.
So THAT’S why men don’t ask directions! Look where it leads!
Marc
I enjoy your writing immensely. Si insightful. So philosophical. You have really missed your calling.
I can’t help thinking that we tell our children lies that are much more dangerous than Santa Claus.
Or rather we allow an education system turned indoctrination system to tell them myriads of evil lies.
Of course I am talking about the imaginary demons of global warming, “climate change” (What the Hell is that supposed to mean anyhow?) sea level rise, extreme weather and all that other nonsense.
Unfortunately the children seem to be indoctrinated in Marxism as well.
My children are middle aged. Even so they seem a bit too much on the green side for my liking. I know that Churchill maintained that if you weren’t a Socialist in your twenties you had no heart, but if you wweren’t a Conservative by forty you had no brain. I didn’t go through that phase.
I live in Tasmania, but I keep tabs on goings on in the USA.
It is disappointing to see Ms. Ortega-Cortez seeming to gain traction. I don’t bear her malice. In fact I pity her and I am annoyed that the my Boomer generation stood by an d allowed the Commies to infiltrate all of our institutions in this way. In any event, it was that idea of ling that your article conjured up in me.
I hope you are recovering from your accident and that you wil be in fine form for your 4th of July celebration.
Karebare, I think somebody insulted Admin the same way, telling him he should be a writer. If you mean HF should have sold his soul to the media and written for a living, you are wrong. HF is no hack and we appreciate that immensely. He did not miss his calling, he heard the call and answered.
Nice restraint, hijo. Perhaps my gentle ways are rubbing off.
Calling a grown man ‘son’ is quite rude.
Point taken, ‘mano. At least I didn’t use ‘pibe’. My thoughts were more on my advanced years, most likely (maybe?) quite a bit more than yours, not on calling you a kid.
Just how old are you, Methuselah? I’m In the Stuck/Tampa group. Are you in the Dutchman/Bea ward? I thought you were in Uncola’s Kinder Garten.
Mea Culpa, respetado antiguo. Just a babe compared to you old bastards. Age should always come before beauty. Quite appropriate in this case. 🙂 I need to ponder on why I had the idea that you were younger. Probably missed some dead giveaways.
he also has called the herd and they also answer his beckoning song… I think I saw it around here somewhere.
I don’t see why everyone is getting so bent out of shape about climate change and all. This is only reaching the end point of our educational system. We’ve had Darwinism taught for so long now that we can’t face the possibility that we may be in for a major evolutionary change. Mankind has so polluted the Earth that our survival is in question . It may be the “survival of the fittest, adaptation, mutation, etc.” Man may have to evolve into a CO2 breather with clorophyl in his veins or grow some gills and learn how to live in saltwater if Darwin was correct. We may need to study cockroaches. They been around a few more years than us.
That would make a great premise for an essay.
And you would be a good one to write it.
Whats’ to study? As soon as we learn to survive on paint and food stains, we should be ok.
CO2 is plant food. Without it we all die. 400ppm concentration is low historically. And many plant specie thrive at over 1,000 ppm. Greenhouses pump CO2 inside to increase production. CO2 is NOT the problem and neither are CO2 emissions. It’s a convenient scapegoat for a massive global tax scheme because like air, everyone needs the energy and by products that “fossil fuels” provide…
And the reason I put “fossil fuels” in quotes that way is because I don’t believe that myth either. But abiotic oil is a different and more lengthy discussion… Chip
Great, lucid, poignant article, and I respect you even more for your internal struggle with a lie that our culture propagates without second thought, but that is, I suppose, in a way, an indictment of it rather than a mere observation. Because we ALWAYS traveled on the holidays – the first xmas (get over it) I spent at home was when we got snowed in when I was eleven – I kinda hated the holidays, resented them, because I was spending them four to five hours away with family that I hardly knew, but to their credit (in some twisted definition of credit), my parents went out of their way to keep the lie alive. They recruited neighbors and friends to put the gifts under the tree, so that when we got home, we would arrive to “Santa’s” gifts. The year I turned ten (yeah, I suspected already but…), as soon as we returned home, I ran into the house to see an empty tree; whoever they had recruited that year had failed to deliver, so the truth was revealed. And I never trusted them again. That day was a literal, life-altering, before/after moment. There was before and there was after, the twain forever rent. Which is sad, but, of course, the destruction of trust was not BECAUSE of the santa lie, per se, but it was merely the final straw and the moment of permanent schism, the last violation of trust.
When I discovered, years later, the truth about xmas (Jeremiah 10, in part), I explained to my kids that we would no longer be celebrating an orgy with Christ’s name on it. The only thing they knew about santa was what they saw in movies and on tv, but they were hurt to learn the truth, as I was, that, beyond the santa BS, the entire celebration is idolatry at its pagan best.
We still give presents, because, to all of us, that’s the best part, but we are honest to call it what it is and say, in jest, of course,”Happy Paga-mas” or “Jolly Saturnalia!”
And your observations of the blue firelight are perfect … and sad. Community – and the light in the darkness – have lost all meaning today.
Bizarre that such occult pagan worship has been entwined with Christianity and the celebration of the birth of Jesus don’t you think?
Makes you question other things you have been taught the supposed meanings of.
Take for instance “The Statue of Liberty”
Yes, sir, but “As it was in the days of Noah, they shall marry and be given in marriage”, that is, the truth will be intertwined with falsehood; I had not seen that particular video until now (and had no idea how tall Mark Dice is), but I learned that Lady Liberty = Lucifer a while ago; see also the “eye of Horus” atop the 1 dollar bill etc., but you know this already, don’t you? As well as, I am sure, that Easter = Oestra, etc, the egg = the ovum….
The intermixing of occult and Christianity IS disturbing, to say the least; part of what I did not mention in my previous post is that my father was a preacher (COC) and a drug addict, so I learned EARLY to not trust ANYTHING that came from the pulpit without verification, cross-reference, and, with any luck, multiple sources. It made for a sh*t home-life BUT I would not trade my skepticism for blind acceptance EVER. AND I may end up but a train-wreck of a human being, but it’s my train-wreck….
Indeed I was aware of the eye of Horus and Oestra …
Also reminded me of many of our national monuments like these phallic symbols
Or this double headed eagle outside the entrance to Albeet Pike’s memorial temple
Bunker (Breeds) Hill Monument, Charlestown, MA
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I was in Jerusalem a few years ago, touring the Holy Land. Much of the tour was at churches such as Church of The Ascension, Cavalry, Basilica of the Annunciation, Church with the Beatitudes…etc etc.
What was disturbing at every one of these churches was the centralization of the Goddess figure of “Mary” ( often with an accompanying “all-seeing-eye” above her head or shadowed face).
I did some thorough study on this Goddess worship upon returning to the states. I honestly believe that at the upper echelons/Jesuits etc of Catholicism that they are not Christians–followers of Jesus Christ but instead still practice the ancient pagan religions with Ishtar, Isis, Oester, Lilith, Colombia, ( all the same but different variations of the Goddess) –and yes, Lady liberty ( the light bringer/enlightened/illuminated)–
The kabbalic teachings are evident throughout media, Hollywood and advertising once you know what to look for–as another celeb flashes the All seeing eye on their face or the “eye of Horus” hand gesture, photographers shadowing a photos face to show the single eye… it is everywhere among the “elite/illumined”
Stumbled across this yesterday. It pertains directly to your comment.
https://beginningandend.com/apostasy-alert-pope-francis-declares-worship-of-mary-is-a-requirement/
Read Jeremiah 7 and 44 after reading how Francis addresses Mary as “queen”…
Not going to end well.
No need for guilt. Santa Claus is one of those training exercises for children to learn that their behavior matters, whether somebody’s watching them or not. The idea that some omniscient somebody knows if you did bad things is a good one. Helps to curve negative impulsive behaviors. Christianity is based on the same thing. Think of how many murders have been prevented by the nagging voice in somebody’s head that you’re going to go to hell if you go through with it. I’m all for anything that helps to train a civil society. And Santa Claus is part of our Western mythology for that reason. You can’t just reason with children, often they’re not ready for that yet. I can’t remember who told me one time, they aren’t little adults. I believe Western Civilization is far above and beyond any other civilization on Earth. And all the little customs and beliefs destroyed by the 60s radicals and replaced by nothing have caused the dysfunction that we see today. I don’t believe in anarchy, though I would probably thrive longer than most were that the case. Anarchy quickly becomes an exercise in assembling power, your survival depends upon it. You did good, man. You raised up your boys with the tried-and-true, and when they got old enough, taught them clear-eyed reality. Don’t beat yourself up. Doesn’t reflect on your standing as an honest man one bit. Job well done.
Every time I ready my pen to write you off as CRACKED or DRINKS TOO MUCH, you pull a magical commentary rabbit out of the hat.
Your comment validates mine on this matter.
Just one quibble. “I’m all for anything that helps to train a civil society.” seems overbroad.
Good point. That is overly broad. Waaaaay overly broad. Off to the camps we go. Yikes. But back in context, kids got to have imagination. What’s bullshit to an adult is vivid and real to a child. And I think we should let them have that. Plenty of time to be an adult later
*Plenty of time to be an adult later!* That’s why I believe there is nothing more fucked up than the sexualization of children.
I’m not talking about child porn which I believe is mostly contrived and overblown. No am I talking about child rape which should be universally result in an instant death sentence administered by the first person to see it or uncover it.
I’m talking about the sexualization going on when parents and Hollywood promote preteen girls dressing up as sluts and behaving as such- and when grown men cheer 10 year old boys dancing on stage in gay nightclubs. Shit like that is certainly the last thing I would want the Creator to judge me on!
We’re on the same page there, brother
I too was a little uncomfortable with the Santa Claus thing when I was raising my 6 children. I too am nearly 60 and recognize a lot that I would change if I had it to do over again. It seems to me that “telling the truth” is much narrower than being an honest person. Also, I believe a truly honest person understands that the truth is a stewardship. In my later years as a grandfather I treat the Santa Claus thing as a form of make believe play that is reserved for the very young who do so much enjoy that transaction.
Being a voracious reader the internet just gave me one more place to while away the hours while absorbing information, good or bad. At times the level of stupid one encounters is horrendous but then there are many books and written articles that are just as bad. One has to have both an intellectual and moral compass to steer one’s way through the garbage, but much like TBP there are some very informative and interesting sites. Santa did not bother me before or after I was aware of the myth and I was one who perpetuated that myth.
Thanks to good parenting, my near immediate disposition upon deducing/intuiting the Santa hoax was “What other choice did my parents have?”
The bigger lessons they taught me at Christmas involved entitlement and greed.
On my 11th Christmas, probably 2 years after the self-detonation of the Santa hoax, it seemed that my biggest wish was not going to be granted: a Crosman 760 air rifle. Despite a host of other quality presents, I pouted and stewed until around noon. Then my parents pulled it out from under the couch.
Again, thanks to good parenting, I was immediately mortified at my behavior during the previous few hours. I eventually unpacked it and examined it, but I resolved both to 1) forever rethink my attitudes and 2) not fire it until the next day.
Recently, I was able to parent my own kid in much the same way. When he insisted we go the video game arcade around 7pm, I called the arcade to discover it was open until 9pm- enough time for a worthwhile trip. However, I presented it as 8pm closing time- insufficient time. The boy cried and CASTIGATED me for having waited too long.
At that point, I “pulled the Crosman out from under the couch” and told him it was really closing at 9pm and illustrated what an entitled jerk he had just been to me. After initially branding me a common liar, I explained that sometimes lies (misinformation to be more precise) were necessary to prove a point. A look of disappointment in himself crossed his face, just like it had mine over 35 years previously.
The flickering hearth fire of TV sells us two kinds of Santa Claus like illusions, one is programming, one is advertising. The central delusion of the TV biz is that anyone pays attention to TV ads that pay their bills. People don’t, not really. Everyone thinks someone else pays attention to TV ads. In reality nearly everyone clicks the TV to mute or walks off to do small chores or switches channels. The TV ad delusion is dependent on Nielsen not measuring 101 ways viewers skip or mute ads. Since TV media controls the country and the country’s politics having intentionally dishonest metrics for both viewing and ads really matters. One could argue that Nielsen, AT&T, and Comcast actually pick who runs Washington DC.
Makes me wonder–as the masses spend their nightly vigils hunkered down and staring at the cold flickering light of their screens– If our Smart TV’s ever gain a touch of AI, of some tiny form of sentience, would they not view humanity as a group of worshippers and themselves as our God?
Another great article, Hardscrabble, which really makes you think. And I’m happy to say I’ve been TV free for about 10 years now.
As a Christian, I had the debate with myself on whether I should do Santa or not for my son. But I knew his father would do it. And what would he answer when asked by others, “What did Santa bring you?” So I went along with it. One of the snots down the street told him Santa wasn’t real, so I confirmed, which actually made Christmas gift buying for him much easier.
I remember, when I was a little kid, I heard my father tell a friend that he had to pay Santa. I was shocked, shocked! I said, “You have to pay Santa? I thought Santa gave gifts for free.” He said, “Maybe in the past Santa was free, but now you have to pay him and prices have gone up.” Then he said something about nothing in life being free.
Santa says you must believe in him & his benevolence (and not be on his naughty list) to receive free goodies
https://www.accredited-times.com/2019/01/20/polls-show-americans-want-free-stuff-without-paying/
Santa says Diversity Is Our Greatest Strength
https://www.accredited-times.com/2018/03/14/top-5-benefits-diversity/
Santa says the TSA works hard to keep the flying public safe and secure
https://youtu.be/RbJOF-2UZFg
I’m awarding Marc the “Grinch” prize.
HSF et al,
I enjoyed your thoughts about this paradox and as an astute commentor said on this thread, I feel like many of these traditions like the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy and on and on actually have a major effect in helping people rationalize away God.
I think the readers here might enjoy this video. Although it is lengthy I have watched it many times and additional videos by the same person on the Secrets Hidden in Plain Sight on San Francisco! Truly mind boggling!
I hope you put it at the top of your viewing list while you are recovering…God speed!
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=L777RhL_Fz4
Plato
This was a really fascinating video. Thanks for posting.
Splurge,
Don’t mention it, anytime! I enjoy the narrator and composer of the videos honesty especially about unwittingly taking certain rites as he progressed through learning about the Secrets Hidden in Plain Sight.
It really accelerated my descent down the Awakening rabbit hole.
Scott Onsott said: (from a few minutes into the video above)
“People living at the dawn of civilization possessed the ability to measure the size of Earth. The oldest temples elegantly encoded the earth, moon and sun, in some ways more advanced than modern science. Pythagorean triangles, Zodiacs, pyramids, octograms, have obsessed secret societies up till today. Washington DC monuments are connected by a pentagram, cube and pyramid, each carrying meaning.
In Egypt, the pentagram symbolized the microcosm. The cube is the body, and the triangles make up the Pythagorean triplets. At the top of the pyramid where the ‘all seeing eye’ is the Scottish center of Freemasonry. Two giant sphinxes stand outside it. The architect modeled it after a Greek monument. It is also the tomb of Albert Pike. He wrote Morals and Dogma which is given to new members of Freemasonry. The house of the temple is where the climax of Dan Brown’s The Lost Symbol takes place. Scottish Freemasons are into the number 33, the building has 33 columns. Many presidents were Freemasons. Some members do not make their involvement a matter of public record, but modern presidents were sworn into presidency with their hand on the Masonic bible. They are admonished under pain of death not to reveal secrets, these were revealed from outside work. Richard Hoagland has connected Scottish Freemasonry with NASA. At Cape Canaveral, the two launch pads of Apollo space missions, the runway 33 is 33 degrees west of north. Astronaut Buzz Aldrin is on the moon holding the flag of Freemasonry. Why 33? Jesus is said to have performed 33 miracles, died at age 33. King David, father of Solomon reined for 33 years, in the Kabbalah there are ten Sephiroth in the Tree of Life, 1 Daath and 22 paths, bringing the total to 33.
The Schumann resonance of the planet, causing the planet to literally ring like a bell, well middle C is 33 harmonics above the Schuman resonance. Our bodies resonate 33 octaves above the Earths resonance. The UN emblem divides the Earth into 33 sections. The human spinal column has 33 vertebrae. 33 might be built into the architecture of the universe. Let’s look at the great seal at the back of the dollar bill. The obverse side, with the eagle, lets count the feathers on the wings, the left 33, the right, 32. Rick Campbell has decoded the geometry. There is a Vesica Pisces, a star of David, at the letters at the points are: A, S, N, O, and M. Rearranging we get ‘MASON’.
It’s no secret that Masons trace their history to the Knights Templars. There is a building across the Potomac called the Roslyn, and Rochelle, the chapel in Scotland features in the Da Vinci code. On google earth when we connect these two points, the line travels right through the apex of the pyramid, where the Scottish Masons building is located….
…the flower of life diagram falls on all the DC lines, and this ancient symbol can be seen in 15 countries. The oldest, in the Osirian temple in Egypt, is 3,000 years old. In Revelations it talks about the sacred architecture planning of New Jerusalem. They are making D.C. the New Jerusalem. To understand why both the flower of life , and tree of life are in DC: the tree fits into the flower, forming Metraton’s cube, with 13 circles. This was named after Enoch who was transformed into the archangel Metatron. This cube contains the Platonic solids, both smaller and larger, like a fractal. It also contained the Tetractus, another symbol in sacred geometry.”
The more we learn about the secrets of Freemasonry, the more it seems like purely an intellectual exercise, like taking math, religion and history and merging them all in a wonderfully complex and abstract story that initiates are slowly taught, degree by degree, where each symbol system along the way includes many of the elements but not explaining how they all fit together in the big picture. This is why the bible and kabbalah are so confusing, they’ve got all the secrets in plain sight but only their surfaces, their true meaning left unexplained. All the public knows is that these books are somehow important, and that certain people choose to spend their lives interpreting them, and isn’t wonderful that they do so. But it’s all ONE STORY, each sacred text a grand re-telling of the same ancient myth. Why should we care about old stories? Because in them lies a few grains of truth, truth about our own ancestry, and about our own nature as humans.
Onsott: “Could Isis be holding Osiris’s phallus in the form of the Washington monument? As the ancient story goes, Set became jealous of his brother Osiris who was king of all Egypt, and ruled with his beautiful girlfriend Isis. So he deceived and killed him, cut his body part into 14 parts, sealed all but one of them in a coffin and sent it down the Nile. As a final insult he threw his penis into the Nile. His sister consort Isis was able to recover and magically reconnect all the parts except for the penis which was eaten by a fish. Isis was able to fashion a golden phallus, attached it to Osiris and brought him back to life with a song. From this the resurrected Osiris became lord of the dead, while Isis was impregnated with the golden phallus and their son Horus was raised to be god of the sun. It’s the original story of incest, jealously, violence and pregnancy. On the shaft of the Washington monument, there is a winged disc of Horus, a clue to the secret meaning of the obelisk.”
These lay lines when extended on google earth cross central park in London and the obelisk there too. So this city planning according to ancient secrets is nothing new…
Hardscrabble,
I almost never compliment people. I’m much more comfortable in the role of critic. This is true in “meatspace” as well as online. Aside from statements of agreement and the occasional “well said!”; the number of times I’ve been truly impressed by someone’s writing on the internet can probably be counted on one hand. You’ve made it to be counted on the thumb of my left hand.
Paragraphs 11 – 19, beginning with “One night after we’d taped a TV show,” and ending at “in front of lights that do not warm us.” is simply awesome. No offense meant to the rest of the article, but that part is some of the best I’ve read.
HF says that contrails is some conspiracy to kill us. (But, I decided to keep reading his stuff.)
HF says the earth is flat. (But, I decided to keep reading his stuff.)
HF says we never went to the moon. (But, I decided to keep reading his stuff.)
HF now says there’s no Santa???!!!!! Fuck that shit!!!!!! I’m done reading his stuff!
I don’t remember how old I was, but I do remember asking my dad if Santa was real, and his answer was a question- “Those new clothes and that new toy (a nylint ford pickup truck with a u-haul sticker on the doors, and a matching u-haul trailer which I still have like the day they were new !) are real, aren’t they?”. It was more of a process for me, I think, because I remember another time when he told me santa wasn’t in the Bible, but that giving to others was…..?
As time went on, I just ‘knew’ that santa claus wasn’t real, but I never said a word as ‘the process’ continued with a sister who is five years younger than I am.
I lived 42 years before I lost him, and for the twenty years since I’ve wondered when did Jesus have to bury his father? It’s written that He knows all our sufferings……??
annuit coeptis novus ordo seclorum-I’m sick and tired of putting loved ones in the ground !!!!
Bodies go in the ground. Souls are eternal. New eternal bodies will come. You’ve lost nothing save for present physical company.
1 Corinthians 15:35-36 KJB… “But some man will say, How are the dead raised up? and with what body do they come? Thou fool, that which thou sowest is not quickened, except it die:”
There is such remarkable hope to share… how I wish santa er, satan hadn’t made it so damn difficult.
“You’ve lost nothing save for present physical company”.
The amount of time I spent with my dad was nearly as much time as I spent with my wife, and for being able to I am thankful. The promise of resurrection is how I was raised, but it only lessens the wound. How much time will it be?
This piece brought back to me how he never lied to me. I brought home a stray dog one time, and the folks let me keep him. One evening, he chewed on the rocker leg of an old chair, and not long later, he wouldn’t come when I called him, and mom told me he probably ran away. I was heartbroken, but my dad told me not to worry, that mom was really upset about her chair, and the dog had to go. He told me the truth, that he had taken him to old man from the church that had a farm, and that we could go see him….we did……and boy was that dog havin so much fun he barely played with me…that was a whole lot easier than ‘he ran away’. My mom only seemed concerned with the fact that the dog was gone !?
annuit coeptis novus ordo seclorum- I thank you for responding. I saw your response on MC thread, and went to your site. We’ll ‘speak’ again.
“I’ve wondered when did Jesus have to bury his father?”
That reminds me of Old Pangloss’ favorite joke:
Man goes in to see the doctor.
Doctor asks, just for the record, how old was your father when he died?
What makes you think he’s dead? He’s 75
Sorry, how old was his dad when he died?
What makes you think he’s dead? He’s 96
Ok, how old was your great grandfather when he died?
What makes you think he’s dead? He’s 115 and he’s getting married next week.
Oh my god, why would a man that old want to get married?
What makes you think he wants to?
I got a genuine chuckle outta that. Not only funny, but kinda deep
annuit coeptis novus ordo seclorum-still chucklin !
What fails to hit home is these children, lied to by the 2 people thatblove them the most, who they trust the most, will not understand if they would lie to them imagine what nefarious MSM, govt, democrats would do. They wash it all away saying “but I got a lot of goodies and toys!” Thats the problem with todays welfare, they too know the dems are using them but they get a lot of stuff for their votes……so they keep voting and believing their lies.
WE stopped that elf on a shelf crap when one day my 4 year old was freaking out the elf didnt move the night before (we forgot to move him). She was upset all day recounting what bad thing she had done. It dawned on me she was herself in a surveillance state and fearful and acted differently. Not long afterwards we ended the charade of santa and the lie. She was thankful. She appreciated us more and recogized it was us working hard to buy those things. She took better care of the toys and thanked us vs ridiculing us thatbsanta didnt bring us stuff because we were mean etc. We took the power back from the State. We negated their mind fuck. We refused to used as jackasses towing their agenda of mind control. We would not be their pawns any longer.
Thank you for that. As we get older we readily accept all kinds of lies from authority figures because we’ve been conditioned to believe things that aren’t true. Their advantage for the past 75 years has been television which is the substitute for the hearth and the stories told by the ones we love and trust.
Like the Moon landing, diversity is our greatest strength, voting offers you a choice, etc. You believe it because you ‘see’ evidence (presented by whom?) and because everyone else shares that belief, all of them getting their proof from the exact same source. But if you pay close attention, or some snot nosed kids tips you off (TBP), it becomes obvious that none of it is true.
Imagine what we could have done with television if it had been used for good? The kind of education people could have received, the real quality entertainment, not just consumer driven advertisements and social engineering.
Excellent!
Now the serpent was more subtil than any beast of the field which the Lord God had made. devil he wares many hats, little red Riding Hood, Huff and puff or I will blow your house down and why is the devil always red. The truth can heal from the lies that destroy
subtle
wears
You make me want to tell Santa stories, Hardscrambled Farmer.
A military friend had great difficulty convincing her ten-year-old son Santa was a big lie. The child, used to the paycheck to paycheck existence of two buck sergeants with two kids, flat-out called her bluff. “Right, Mom,” the solemn little guy said to his exasperated mother (who was embarrassed he still believed.) He continued, “I suppose you are going to try and tell me that you and Dad buy all those gifts.”
He had a point.
A wonderful tale and a wonderful way to remind everyone from time to time of the upcoming Honesty Hootenanny in New Hampshire for those interested in the Truth Industry.
On another level, HF is talking about the DC Santa who everybody pretends gives gifts to the good citizens. Of course the money really comes from mom and dad and you and me. But he gets the credit and loves to give out of other people’s pockets. If he hands out enough freebies, he gets reelected and honored with presidential libraries where he can live like a Liberace and party like a pimp. We buy into the lie and hate it when somebody like Admin spoils it for us saying that the well is going dry. Say it ain’t so Admin. I’ve so been looking forward to my social security check, I’ve been real good, just ask me.
Alguien lo consigue.
How to interpret that?
Somebody obtains, acquires, procures…
I’m leaning towards ‘somebody will secure the money’.
It’s more reassuring than a simple, ‘some folks will see a check..’
Although there is the Titanic Santa Claus deus ex machina solution:
Is it my addled brain or did Bobby Goldsboro introduce Kermit and Miss Piggy to the world?
Never mind. His froggy sidekick was named Calvin. https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0069566/trivia
I don’t recall being upset at learning of the reality of Santa Claus. Even after the learning, we kept the idea going, if nothing else but to make Christmas more fun. We joked about it during Christmas of 1954 when I stood guard duty on Christmas Eve at Inchon.
Stayed with the Santa deal through my own son’s early years–and, again, onward for the fun of it. Same through my second marriage at age 54.
I don’t care if the rest of the world shuns Norman Rockwell. Screw ’em. Christmas is supposed to be a happy time, so, “Make Happy.”
TV? It was a great baby-sitter during my late wife’s decay of Alzheimer’s. My only program interest was football and car racing. Since she died, I can watch highlights on my computer and that’s good enough. No more $$$ gone to TV’s World Of Banal.
Looking back from my own vantage point of a bunch of years, I figure that among lies, some are harmless. Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny among them. IMO they have nothing whatsoever to do with, “Hey, I’ll pay you back next week,” or, “I’m here from the government, to help you.”
I came back here to read this thing again. Especially when you took your walk, I took a walk back in time, it seemed. I will never see the iconic ‘Hollywood’ sign again without thinking about that walk you took somewhere below it.
If this had posted just before the Holiday, instead of now, I would bet it would have resulted in comments to meet or exceed any that have been on this blog before….the story is perfect…..the timing not so much
annuit coeptis novus ordo seclorum- the Truth is something that has become increasingly important to me, but, like you, it has always been important to me because it was important to the man that fed me, housed me, and taught me. As lying increases in this world, I desire to have no part in them !
I have a set of 30 year old twin daughters that I told the truth to about no-Santa from the beginning. I told them that we celebrated Jesus’ birthday. I also told them not to tell their classmates the truth, that this was their own parents responsibility. They and I have very close, loving relationships and they often tell me that “You know Dad, you never lied to us ever, not even about Santa.” I am so blessed that I did this as it created a sense of trust and respect that I do not know might exist had I done differently.
You couldn’t have made a better case. Thank-you.