I'm 39 years old and, in that span of time, I've heard "Santa Claus Is Comin' to Town" enough times to have my ears dissolve into cartilage burgers. But I never really pondered the lyrics, not closely, until recently.
And ladies and gentlemen, it is some scary shit:
You'd better watch out.
You'd better not cry.
You'd better not pout.
I'm telling you why: Santa Claus is comin' to town.
and this ...
He sees when you are sleeping.
He knows when you're awake.
He knows if you've been bad or good.
So be good, for goodness sake.
Who exactly wrote this song? Freddie Krueger? Michael Jackson? The NSA?
It is mighty strange that the arbiters of Christmas iconography determined once upon a time that children would warm up to a fat guy who watches them in bed and somewhere along the way inserted a microchip that monitored their innermost thoughts.
A friend's 4-year-old daughter has an almost rabid fear of Santa Claus, and I have to say that it is certainly understandable. The more you think about it, I don't see why more kids don't take out victims' protective orders with regard to ol' Saint Nick.