Presuppositions and Santa
Santa lives.
If you don’t know this to be true, it must be that Santa has yet to be revealed to you by sufficient listening to Here Comes Santa Claus. This inspired song is self-disclosing. One need only hear it within a community of like minded Santa Folk to get it.
Santa lives.
Our greatest fear is that if we do not believe in everything, then we will be forced to believe in nothing.
If we don’t believe in Santa, the next stop will be nihilism!
Even to express doubts indicates a humanist, Enlightenment mindset. Santa comes to those who seek Santa. He chooses to reward his elite with special knowledge of Santa that they cannot doubt. Only then will their cognitive faculties work. This truth is evident in their failure to see Santa as we have seen him.
Everyone has presuppositions, but the mistake some people make is to challenge those presuppositions and to think about them! The mere fact that we like our epistemological cocoon is sufficient reason to stay in it.
The unbelievers ask for evidence, but there is no evidence they can understand. Only we can understand through the magic that Santa has given us. He will not give it to them, because they cling to human reason. They don’t realize that Santa hides from those who insist on thinking about him.
Santa comes to their house, but he wears gloves. He never leaves fingerprints that they can see. We could see his fingerprints, but we don’t bother looking since we already know they are there. We surely will not tell you about them, since that would be too much like philosophy.
The Santa doubters think they have an excuse, but it is good that Santa has left no evidence in nature for his existence.
Unbelievers cannot see him, but we can!
The Half-Convinced: The Really Irritating Folk
Of course, more irritating to those who really believe in Santa are those who say they believe in Santa, but keep trying to provide evidence to skeptics.
What hopeless folly!
If they will only look with their heart, they can see him on every street corner and in the fond wishes of the childish heart.
But no, because Santa does things in the real world (bringing gifts, eating cookies), they insist that they should have evidence that he does such things. They want to see cookie crumbs and touch the presents.
Foolish, foolish people!
This is the path of philosophy and the Santa believers will have nothing to with arguments ontological or otherwise.
The quest for the historical Santa is endless and so “modern”:
Radar of flying reindeer.
Arguments from the existence of toys.
These false Santa-ites want an argument that is at least probable, when our own self-authenticating internal knowledge laughs them to scorn.
When Virginia asked her famous question, she revealed the humanism springing up in even little children.
She asked for evidence. She stood before reality and asked for some clue to support her fondest wish and her own desires.
Silly, wicked little girl.
Here is the simple faith of our childhood:
Here comes Santa Claus!
Here comes Santa Claus!
Right down Santa Claus Lane!
We know this is true, because it is written down in a song that we know to be true. If we continue to assert it, people will get it!
Some skeptics, not yet illumined by Autry, might ask, “Why this Christmas song and not another?”
That is the path of anti-Santa philosophy.
It is this song, because Santa told us it is this song. We cannot question our beliefs about the song, because that is a presupposition. Presuppositions cannot be questioned. That sentence is also a presupposition so nobody can question it either.
Vixen and Blitzen and all his reindeer
are pulling on the reins.
Since the song asserts Santa is real, and we know Santa is real, we also know Vixen and Blitzen are real. We know there are other reindeer, but since the song does not name them we refuse to name them either.
Bells are ringing, children singing;
All is merry and bright.
Having given up so called Santa-apologetics, we feel better. We feel better about ourselves, though we feel worse about those who disagree with us.
Hang your stockings and say your prayers,
‘Cause Santa Claus comes tonight.
The stronger we assert an idea, the more we believe it.
Here comes Santa Claus!
Here comes Santa Claus!
Right down Santa Claus Lane!
He’s got a bag that is filled with toys
for the boys and girls again.
Hear those sleigh bells jingle jangle,
What a beautiful sight.
Jump in bed, cover up your head,
‘Cause Santa Claus comes tonight
Why did Santa folk back away from this joyous and simple expression of Santa belief? We embrace the post-modern view of language because it is convenient in helping us avoid being forced to defend our pre-modern belief in Santa Claus.
This song is so similar to the simple old stories of our childhood. It contains none of the later additions or complexities about the nature of Santa that allowed other non-Santa elements to attach themselves to the basic Santa Story. Later Santa followers could not be satisfied with the Jolly Man we love, but had to add further reindeer, elves, the North Pole, and other details and so pollute the purity of the True Santa Text.
We have experienced the simple Santa story simplistically and our experience is justified by the text.
Do not for a moment think that this is based merely on our personal experience, since we reject this idea. Instead, our experience of the text of this song is justified by the text itself. Though circular, this argument persuades us, marginalizes our foes, and allows us cultural breathing room.
We believe the basic Santa story, because we know it to be true. We know it to be true, because when we read it we knew it to be true.
(Critics who point out any similarities between this argument and those of Plato are wrong. How do we know? Our hatred of Plato necessitates that we are not influenced by him at all. This worked well for Tertullian. It will work for us.)
Clement Moore: Moving Away from the Simple Santa
Fundamentally, the villain of the piece is Clement Moore who introduced his own experiences in to the entire issue and so clouded things. He wrote in search of the historical Santa and so became tainted with the higher criticism and liberalism of his degenerate age.
Fortunately, Scriptorium’s writers had the entire problem explained to us by Dr. Antinous Alcibiades, founder of our new University.
Dr. Alcibiades is smart. With degrees from lots of places (many of whom view him as their most distinguished alum), he has the kind of worldly credentials the non-Santa folk often want. He paid for those degrees with his own money. He was the first person to earn a Double Diamond Doctorate and ever since posting on the Internet (with its global reach) he has been an international expert on Santa.
Dr. Alcibiades is not just smart, he is right . . . double diamond self-authenticating doctorate right. His rightness is best evidenced by his total disagreement with everyone who disagrees with him. Years of study in libraries and other places holding books have left him an expert on everything without falling prey to the elitism of specialization.
He can write and research a book on anything given a few months of intense library study. Forthcoming exposures of the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy (Taking Santa’s Glory: the Rise of the Easter Bunny Cult and the Roman Tooth Fairy of the Middle Ages) will pretty much end the cultural influence of those mythic creatures for those Santa-like enough to agree with him.
The irony of modern Santa studies is that it has come to be dominated by the semi-Father Christmas image of “Santa” drawn from the work of Clement Moore. Only with his double diamond research could Dr. Alcibiades discover that Clement Moore is part of the anti-Santa movement of our own day.
No one is so far from Santa as those who think him to be Father Christmas. This sect of true Santa belief, Moore-man cult as Dr. Alcibiades describes it, has spread far and wide and dominates much of Hollywood and television.
Dr. Alcibiades explained to us that in Clement Moore’s desire to further understand Santa, he had fallen prey to reason and thinking. Clement Moore ended up apostate from the very Santa he meant to serve.
An Error in Scriptorium: You Cannot be Too Nasty in the Name of Jollification!
In our hard-hitting exposure of the Rudolph Myth, a positive reference to Clement Moore wormed its way through our editorial board.
We have fired and excommunicated that student editor. We shall call him periodic bad names.
We refuse to agree with anyone who does not agree with us on everything. Only in this way can we demonstrate the Spirit of Santa . . . by being nasty in the name of goodwill and jollification.
Some might argue that “Here Comes Santa” and our very style of argument are themselves of more recent vintage than Clement Moore’s poem. We ignore these criticisms since they are the product of reason.
There is a simple way of responding to this snobbish attack.
It is anachronistic to apply Reason to the Santa story.
Why?
History teaches that nobody reasoned before the Age of Reason and the basic Santa story predates the Age of Reason by centuries. We will therefore use not use anachronistic reasons to support our beliefs in a totally self-authenticating Santa!
A Fisking of Clement Moore
Here is a fisking of the Platonic influenced, Enlightenment, man-centered poem that has deceived so many. This long over due fisking has been delayed for a century due to the man-centered pressure to bow to the idol of Reason and Evidence.
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
Note that the obsession for evidence (Enlightenment!) demonstrated in this poem. Like some scientist, he notes that nothing was stirring. Why this needless detail?
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.
Dr. Alcibiades points to the lack of faith in Santa here and the use of a first name not found in the Autry song.
Rather than the triumphant knowledge of “Here comes Santa Claus,” we have the hesitation of philosophy. We also have the traditional accretions to the story that is a sign of error.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.
Could the adults not wait for Santa even a moment? Surely the children should be in bed, but couldn’t the adults tarry?
Note the philosophical reference to “brains.” Our foes are obsessed with thinking. We are obsessed with believing.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
Why the haste? Didn’t he know in his heart it was Santa? Here we see the eager evidentialism of Clement Moore. He must see Santa. He is not content with thinking about Santa. He wants to know.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.
The key to Moore are those “wondering eyes.”
Why should they wonder? Doesn’t he already believe in Santa? Does he think his personal experience of any evidential value?
Gene Autry taught us everything we need to know about Santa.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
Note the use of presuppositions by the witness. “He knew in a moment . . .” How did he know?
Was Saint Nick wearing a sign?
This identification of the man on his roof with Santa could only come through a blend of his culture, the simple Santa story, and his own philosophy.
“Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”
Here we have the kind of new information that we most strongly resist in thinking about Santa. We want our Santa straight . . . without Rudolph or the names of reindeer missing in early stories and songs about Santa. There is a quick path from the half-way house of Clement Moore to the outright Santa paganism of Frank Baum.
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too.
We need not spend long on this section of the poem except to note it was obviously influenced by Homer. It is the kind of natural interlude (the wine dark sea) that he cherished.
Homer was a pagan Greek.
The pagan Greeks had no Santa.
It is, therefore, inappropriate to use the form of pagan poetry to celebrate our Santa.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.
Since we know Santa exists and have stories about him, what good is it to actually meet him?
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.
Here we have evidence of Moore’s subtle lies.
Does this sound like the Santa of the Shopping Center of your childhood?
No.
Here we have a revisionist Santa having more in common with Father Christmas than with Santa Claus.
The association of Father Christmas with Santa Claus is a pernicious lie. Dr. Alcibiades blames the late C.S. Lewis and his Narnia books. “We cannot be too careful with our view of Santa,” Dr. Alcibiades said. “The figure of Father Christmas threatens to confuse American children with the unwholesome Father Christmas.”
Father Christmas is not Santa.
His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.
This section is seemingly unobjectionable. As a result, we view this as the most dangerous part of the poem. By making their false Santa appealing and even a bit like the real Santa, they threaten to lure the unwary into the Father Christmas trap.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!
The smoking is not so good and the pride in his obesity is disturbing, but his cynical laughter about both is what really should disturb a parent. The false Santa of Clement Moore is self-indulgent and proud of it.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
Clement Moore has plenty to dread for spreading the Father Christmas lie, but like all heretics he justifies himself in his own work.
” . . . I had nothing to dread.”
When he gets coal in his eternal stocking, Moore will know.
Santa is a man not an elf.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!
Who is this jerk?
Why should Moore call anyone a jerk?
We see the beginning of the ad hominem assaults by stupid fools like Moore on our position.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”
It will not be a Merry Christmas for Mr. Clement Moore and the Father Christmas brigade when their offerings of milk and cookies are rejected.
If any of this is confusing to you, we recommend you join our new graduate program in the humanities, and earn a double diamond doctorate in Santa Studies. You will find no evidence and no appeals to reason.