Dear Santa
Dear Santa, I am not sure what has possessed me to be writing to the caricature of a charitable Saint who has been metamorphosed by time and the trappings of a capitalist system to an omnipresent and apparently omniscient figurehead of conspicuous consumption and the dreaded “Holiday Season”, and yet, here I am. My wishes are, as always, plenty, and my faith in your ability to grant them...wavering. But if you are as omniscient as the children’s songs imply, then you already know of my truest, dearest desires, and also know that I by no means would ever qualify to be on your “nice” list, by it’s current rules. Of this I have no regrets, I have long since made peace with the evil that lives within the depths of my heart. And I know that I must use that to my greatest advantage, if I, and those that I care about, are to survive. I need not your charity, but if you wish to bestow it upon myself, you know there I am. I am waiting.
