Ho, Ho, Ho. It’s Santa.
Welp, 2016 has finally ruined red hats for me.
For decades, the red hat has been maybe my most signature icon. A symbol of giving and generosity. Kindness and warmth. Care and thoughtfulness. Then, this year, some a-hole had to come along and ruin it. Now, suddenly red hats just look bad. They feel weird. They even smells gross. The red hat is ruined for me.
And considering I made it through the Limp Bizkit era, that’s saying a lot.
Generally, I’m not a political man. The only two-party system I subscribe to is Naughty and Nice. I’m not saying I’m a saint either. (I mean, I am. St. Nick– look it up.) While I do selflessly dedicate my life to giving, I admit my surveillance techniques are excessive. Hell, I watch people sleep, and I honestly couldn’t tell you that it is purely professional or that it doesn’t provide me some secret indescribable thrill. Labor rights and animal welfare? How about I give you a present and we change the subject?
The red hat was perfect for me:
-Something functional to hold my wispy white hair from being thrown about by the harsh winds as I traveled from town to town holding rallies to celebrate my seemingly impossible arrival.
-But also a symbol for my fans. Something you could spot from a hundred yards away and know that this person was my fan and full of my spirit, but also possibly drunk and belligerent, and maybe worth crossing to the other side of the street to avoid.
-Its message was pithy and energizing, but once you took a step back, kind of meaningless. And also probably alienating to Muslims.
Now, some jerk completely ripped me off. Went full Grinch on me. Bastardized the whole thing to be really anti-Christmas spirit. Except maybe the uncomfortable “No Jews” subtext.
It’s over. I’m burning my red hat.
Oof. 2016 : What a Scut Farkus of a year.