Today is like Christmas! But without Santa. And instead of being given things, things are being taken away. Not good things, like presents, but bad things, like roving packs of slobbery drunks who once a year make New York City an even dumber shitshow than it already is for no motherfucking good reason.

Yes, SantaCon is finally being banned. Really, it’s more like it’s being discouraged or less-tolerated. But it should be completely banned and punishable in the most draconian fashion possible.

In the event you’ve been lucky enough to have never come into contact with SantaCon, it’s basically a nationwide Day of Bar Crawl, with the meaningful, creative, and stunningly brilliant caveat that all involved will dress as Santa. Or elves. Or reindeer. Because Halloween and St. Patrick’s Day and unorganized local bar crawls just weren’t enough.

But finally, after years of oppressive idiocy overtaking our fair city’s drinking establishments in costume for one day a year, people are fighting back.

DNAinfo reports:

The NYPD’s Midtown North Precinct sent letters to about 30 bars, clubs and lounges in Midtown and Hell’s Kitchen earlier this month, urging the nightspots not to welcome participants in the annual daylong bar crawl for hundreds of bearded, red-and-white-clad revelers. “Having thousands of intoxicated partygoers roam the streets urinating, littering, vomiting and vandalizing will not be tolerated in our neighborhood,” [they] said to the bar managers contacted in the precinct, the borders of which are roughly bounded by 45th to 59th streets, between Park Avenue and the Hudson River.

Now, granted, this is bittersweet news, because nobody worth caring about actually goes drinking in midtown on the weekend, and it’d be of far greater import if the NYPD simply started arbitrarily detaining, questioning, and jailing some of these people for no good reason, especially downtown (it’s not like they don’t have the practice). But many New Yorkers are as wary of these people as we are: Eater NY helpfully made signage last year to prevent drunk Santasses from patronizing their establishments in costume.

Now, maybe you’re wondering: What’s up your ass, pal? These guys can’t be that bad. And technically, you’d be correct. They are not terrorists. They don’t kill people. And it’s ostensibly a charitable endeavor, since SantaCon tries to raise money for charity, or something. And charity is great. But here’s a better way to help people out: Stop being a drunkass and volunteer, or perhaps donate money. Do something that sets an example the world needs: Go be a runner, run a marathon, raise money for charity that way. Runners are obnoxious in totally different ways, but at least they don’t make too big of a mess and, you know, running. Running is usually good for you. Maybe play in a charity bowling tournament, and get drunk around heavy balls and slippery floors. That’s contained, that’d be fine.

Here’s what’s not fine: The assholes who already have little to no tact—and already swarm bars every weekend to get shitty with their brahs—dressing up as what is supposed to be this nice children’s icon and getting even shittier, and more tactless, en masse.

If you’ve ever been on Bleecker Street during Santa Con you probably don’t ever need to take acid because it feels like the worst acid trip ever taken inside of an advent calendar found in a trashcan off of Sesame Street, and one can only imagine what that looks like to someone under the age of six. Shit, SantaCon makes Beantown during Red Sox high season look positively civilized, and those people are goddamn animals. And look, we know, it’s not like the idea of Santa is some highly sacred thing that’s meaningful and not just some ginned up nonsense to fuel the hungry fires of capitalism every December that we need to cling to so desperately.

It’s not. Santa’s weird. Santa’s a fat recluse who employs a bunch of small people in desolate work conditions for 364 days a year, and for that other one, invades your home every December to give you hot merch off the back of a sleigh in exchange for cookies. Santa’s mad weird. Santa comes by every Christmas and does your mom.

But of all the things Santa does, at least he doesn’t give being a shameless drunk a bad name. Which SantaCon does. Which is really why you should hate SantaCon, at least on a cosmic level. But if you have no standard for shameless drunkeness, then you should simply hate the hammered santas for taking up space on sidewalks. And oxygen. For the children.

Fuck SantaCon.

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