IS THERE A SANTA CLAUS?
As a result of an overwhelming lack of requests, and with research help from that renowned scientific journal SPY magazine (January, 1990) - I am pleased to present the annual scientific inquiry into Santa Claus.
1) No known species of reindeer can fly. BUT there are 300,000 species of living organisms yet to be classified, and while most of these are insects and germs, this does not COMPLETELY rule out flying reindeer which only Santa has ever seen.
2) There are 2 billion children (persons under 18) in the world. BUT, since Santa doesn’t (appear) to handle the Muslim, Hindu, Jewish and Buddhist children, that reduces the workload to 15% of the total - 378 million according to Population Reference Bureau. At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that’s 91.8 million homes. One presumes there’s at least one good child in each.
3) Santa has 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming he travels east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 822.6 visits per second. This is to say that for each Christian household with good children, Santa has 1/1000th of a second to park, hop out of the sleigh, jump down the chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left, get back up the chimney, get back into the sleigh and move on to the next house. Assuming that each of these 91.8 million stops are evenly distributed around the earth (which, of course, we know to be false but for the purposes of our calculations we will accept), we are now talking about .78 miles per household, a total trip of 75.5 million miles, not counting stops to do what most of us must do at least once every 31 hours, plus feeding, etc.
This means that Santa’s sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second, 3,000 times the speed of sound. For purposes of comparison, the fastest man- made vehicle on earth, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a poky 27.4 miles per second - a conventional reindeer can run, tops, 15 miles per hour.
4) The payload on the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium-sized Lego set (2 pounds), the sleigh is carrying 321,300 tons, not counting Santa, who is invariably described as overweight. On land, conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting that “flying reindeer” (see point #1) could pull TEN TIMES the normal amount, we cannot do the job with eight, or even nine. We need 214,200 reindeer. This increases the payload - not even counting the weight of the sleigh - to 353,430 tons. Again, for comparison - this is four times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth.
5) 353,000 tons travelling at 650 miles per second creates enormous air resistance - this will heat the reindeer up in the same fashion as spacecrafts re-entering the earth’s atmosphere. The lead pair of reindeer will absorb 14.3 QUINTILLION joules of energy. Per second. Each. In short, they will burst into flame almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them, and create deafening sonic booms in their wake. The entire reindeer team will be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second. Santa, meanwhile, will be subjected to centrifugal forces 17,500.06 times greater than gravity. A 250-pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim) would be pinned to the back of his sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force.
In conclusion - If Santa ever DID deliver presents on Christmas Eve, he’s dead now.
Merry Christmas.
Ole and Lena went to the same Lutheran Church. Lena went every Sunday and taught Sunday School. Ole went on Christmas and Easter and once in a while, he went on one of the other Sundays.
On one of those Sundays, he was in the pew right behind Lena and he noticed what a fine looking woman she was.
While they were taking up the collection, Ole leaned forward and said, "Hey, Lena, how about you and me go to dinner in Westby next Friday?"
"Yah, Ole, dot vould be nice," said Lena.
Well, Ole couldn't believe his luck. All week long he polished up his old Ford, and on Friday he picked Lena up and took her to the finest restaurant in Westby.
When they sat down, Ole looked over at Lena and said, "Hey, Lena, vould you like a cocktail before dinner?"
"Oh, no, Ole," said Lena. "Vat vould I tell my Sunday School class?"
Well, Ole was set back a bit, so he didn't say much until after dinner. Then he reached in his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "Hey, Lena," said Ole, "vould you like a smoke?"
"Oh, no, Ole," said Lena. "Vat vould I tell my Sunday School class?"
Well, Ole vas feeling pretty low after that, so he just got in his Ford and was driving Lena home when they passed the Motel. He'd struck out twice already, so he figured he had nothing to lose.
"Hey, Lena," said Ole, "how vould you like to stop at that motel with me?"
"Yah, Ole, dot vould be nice," said Lena.
Well, Ole couldn't believe his luck. He did a U-turn right then and there across the median and everything, and drove back to the motel and checked in with Lena.
The next morning Ole got up first. He looked at Lena lying there in the bed, her hair all spread out on her pillow. "Vat have I done? Vat have I done?" thought Ole.
He shook Lena and she woke up. "Lena, I've got to ask you von ting," said Ole. "Vat are you going to tell your Sunday School class?"
"Lena said, "The same ting I alvays tell dem. You don't have to smoke and drink to have a good time!"
Two little kids debated whether Santa Claus is black or white. So the little black and white boys sent their letter in the mail to The North Pole asking, "Santa, are you black or white? P.S. I, Harry, want an iPhone and Kentavious wants an X-Box One." (Kids these days) Santa soon replies with a letter saying, "It doesn't matter if I am black or white. The only thing that matters is that you don't judge by color."
"Ha, see Kentavious, Santa is white!" Harry said. "No way. He neva said dat," Ketavious defended. "But if Santa was black," Harry started, "He would have said,'It doesn't matter if I is black or white.' "
Pauly’s family is at dinner, the 10-year-old daughter isn’t eating much, and she just keeps her head down.
After a few minutes, she says, “I have something to tell you.”
Everyone gets silent and they all listen.
“I am no longer the virgin I used to be.” And she begins to cry.
A long silence, and Mr Pauly speaks to Mrs Pauly, “It’s your fault, you know, always dressed and made up like a тrамр. You think that’s an example for your daughter? Always wallowing on the sofa; it’s just terrible; that’s why problems like this come up!”
Then Mrs Pauly lights in on Mr Pauly, “And you! Do you think that you’re a good example? Wasting your scrawny paycheck with your drinking buddies who even come drunк into the house - do you think that’s a good example for a little girl 10 years old?”
Then Pauly charges back in, “And her sister, that no-good, with her hairy and dope-crazed boyfriend, always with their hands all over each other - you think that’s a good example too?”
And it goes on and on, back and forth. Then the grandmother hugs the little girl to console her and asks, “Now, darling, how did this happen?
And the little girl answers, trying to hold back her sobbing, “Father Michael chose another girl to be the Virgin in the Christmas pageant this year.”
Johnny wanted to get his mom something nice for Christmas but she’s hard to shop for. Passing a pet store he thought, "Hmm, a pet might be a good idea." He walked in the pet store and asked the manager what might be a good idea. "How about a puppy?"
"No," said Johnny. "It may роор around the house."
"A fish?"
"No, her house is small, so I don’t think an aquarium will fit." Johnny then spied a parrot and asked, "How about that parrot?"
"Oh," said the manager, "That’s Chet. He’s very expensive."
"Well," said Johnny, "It’s my mom let’s take a look." The manager went to Chet, put a lighter under his left wing, and Chet started to sing "Jingle bells, jingle bells..." Then the manager put a lighter under Chet’s right wig and it started to sing, "Dashing through the snow..."
"Wow!" said Johnny, "What else does he sing?" The manager held the lighter under Chet’s crotch at which point Chet sang, "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire."