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And this is the door decorating I did for my mother’s 1st grade classroom. She asked me to lend my “artistic talents” to decorate her classroom’s door to make it look like a ticket booth for the “Polar Express.” I made it look like a sort of Nordic-suprematism-tribe thing. A kindergartner walked by and told me it looked “scary.”
Well. Santa Claus isn’t real. And parents across the world feed his character, his event, his location, to their children, witless that the polar caps are melting, that reindeer are being hunted to extinction (I have not checked that fact; it sounds right), dwarves are not magic, and our capitalist holiday has no room for a charitable oaf to squeeze down chimneys—now all of this is scary. Not my door. Also; Baby Jesus: probably not born on December 25th. The Christian god may be a vast social construct, a trick, like Santa Claus. It’s America in December and anything can happen. That is scary!
Anyway, that’s not what I told this little kid, I told him: “Your face is scary, git to class.” And he frowned at me and I sipped on my Diet Pepsi and continued to tape paper to the door.

And this is the door decorating I did for my mother’s 1st grade classroom. She asked me to lend my “artistic talents” to decorate her classroom’s door to make it look like a ticket booth for the “Polar Express.” I made it look like a sort of Nordic-suprematism-tribe thing. A kindergartner walked by and told me it looked “scary.”

Well. Santa Claus isn’t real. And parents across the world feed his character, his event, his location, to their children, witless that the polar caps are melting, that reindeer are being hunted to extinction (I have not checked that fact; it sounds right), dwarves are not magic, and our capitalist holiday has no room for a charitable oaf to squeeze down chimneys—now all of this is scary. Not my door. Also; Baby Jesus: probably not born on December 25th. The Christian god may be a vast social construct, a trick, like Santa Claus. It’s America in December and anything can happen. That is scary!

Anyway, that’s not what I told this little kid, I told him: “Your face is scary, git to class.” And he frowned at me and I sipped on my Diet Pepsi and continued to tape paper to the door.

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