If you recall, a few posts ago I discussed my favorite Tuesday afternoon activity, reading Gene Weingarten's online chat on Washington Post. Well today I will post one of the funniest things I've read on his chat. It's worthy of repeating because he's a comic genius.
Dear Mr. Weingarten: I am eight years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, "If you see it in Mr. Weingarten's chat, it's so." Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?
Gene Weingarten: You blew it. Your place name should have been "Virginia."
However, I shall answer your question.
Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. Why, there is a Santa as surely as there is a Virginia! Go to any shopping mall, and behold him. True, he may often look like some homeless guy with a false beard earning a few bucks for booze by forfeiting his self-respect for the further enrichment pf corporate bloodsuckers trying to trick customers into overspending money they don't have on presents they can't afford for people they think they love.
It's love that doesn't exist, Virginia. We all die alone.
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