Santa's Privacy Policy

[From McSweeneys.net]

At Santa's Workshop, your privacy is important to us. What follows is an explanation of how we collect and safeguard your personal information; the kind of information we collect; and your choices regarding our use and disclosure of this information.

Why Do We Need This Information?
Santa Claus requires your information in order to compile his annual list of Who is Naughty and Who is Nice, and to ensure accuracy when he checks it twice. Your information is also used in connection with delivering the kinds of goods and services you've come to expect from Santa, including but not limited to toys, games, good cheer, merriment, Christmas spirit, seasonal joy, and holly jollyness.

What Information Do We Collect?
We obtain information from a variety of sources. Much of it comes from unsolicited letters sent to Santa by children all over the world listing specific items they would like to receive for Christmas. Often these letters convey additional information as well, such as the child's hopes and dreams, how much they love Santa, and which of their siblings are doodyheads.

The letters also provide another important piece of information—fingerprints. We run these through databases maintained by the FBI, CIA, NSA, Interpol, MI6, and the Mossad. If we find a match, it goes straight on the Naughty List. We also harvest a saliva sample from the flap of the envelope in which the letter arrives in order to establish a baseline genetic identity for each correspondent. This is used to determine if there might be an inherent predisposition for naughtiness. A detailed handwriting analysis is performed as part of a comprehensive personality workup, and tells us which children are advancing nicely with their cursive and which are still stubbornly forming block letters with crayons long past the age when this is appropriate.

Our network of fully trained, duly deputized mall "Santas" file reports from the field, telling us which children are well-behaved, which are elf-phobic, which are prone to sphincter control issues, and which are squirmy beard-pulling monstrous little brats. Digital copies of photos taken with these "Santas" are automatically sent to our database for further evaluation, with particular attention given to the ones where the children are crying.

Santa also employs a paranormal method of observation known as "remote viewing." This enables him to see you when you're sleeping, know when you're awake, and know if you've been bad or good. He even knows if the cookies you're leaving out are homemade or store-bought.

What Do We Do With the Information We Collect?
Sharing is one of the joys of Christmas. For this reason, we share your personal information with our affiliates, non-affiliated third parties, and anyone else who has a legitimate financial stake in a successful holiday season. Mrs. Claus also likes to have a look-see.

Our affiliates include partners of Santa's Workshop who are actively involved in making Christmas happen. They include toy-making elves, flying reindeer, and Jesus. Non-affiliated third parties might include the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and Hanukkah Harry.

We may also share your information with mental health practitioners—especially if, as a child, you asked for a particular present every Christmas but never got it. This information gives your analyst a better understanding of why you sometimes feel sad at this time of year and why you resent your parents.

Occasionally we share your Christmas wish lists with professional lyricists seeking inspiration for a catchy holiday song. In the past this information has inspired such holiday favorites as "All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth," "All I Want for Christmas is You," "My Grown-Up Christmas List," and "Santa Baby." Should your wish list inspire a hit single, you may be entitled to royalties, payable in the form of sleighfuls of Christmas cheer.

Finally, we make note of the condition of your roof and chimney in the course of our Christmas Eve deliveries. We share this information with appropriate third-party contractors, who may contact you to warn that your aging roof will soon be leaking worse than Julian Assange, or that you will die in your sleep of carbon monoxide poisoning if you don't replace your chimney liner right away.

How Do We Secure This Information?
We secure your information by keeping it at the North Pole, one of the most remote, inhospitable and uninhabitable places on earth. It is stored in a secure gingerbread facility deep in the Candy Cane Forest, behind an impassable barrier conjured by Elven magic. The facility is guarded by a full brigade of life-size wooden toy soldiers armed with Nerf Blasters and Super Soakers. The area is also patrolled by ravenous polar bears.

You Have Choices
You have "opt out" choices regarding certain disclosures we make about you. Please indicate your preferences below:

____ I'll be nice. Please collect, collate, analyze, disseminate and disclose my personal information in any way you see fit. I understand that my cooperative attitude will be taken into consideration when it comes time to compile the Naughty/Nice list next year.

____ I'll be naughty. Please don't share my personal information with anyone. You may use it only to ensure that I get as many of the specific items on my list as possible. I understand that my uncooperative attitude carries the risk that a lump of bituminous coal will be deposited in my stocking annually, either for the duration of my life or until I change my preferences.

You may forward your completed form to: Santa Claus, c/o Santa's Workshop, The North Pole. Or you may retain it for your own records—it doesn't matter. Whether your form is on file with Santa or not, he's gonna find out who's naughty or nice.

Please allow twelve days of Christmas for your choices to take effect.

Steve Martin Starring in Rashomon

By now you've heard that Steve Martin's appearance at the 92nd Street Y in New York on Monday night didn't go so well. Martin was interviewed on stage by Deborah Solomon, who interviews famous folks for The New York Times Magazine and has also written extensively about art. Martin is an art collector and his new novel, An Object of Beauty, is set in the art world, so it seems like a natural, right?

But halfway through the session, a representative of the Y walked on stage and handed Solomon a note suggesting that she ask more questions about Martin's career as an actor and entertainer, and less about art. When Solomon read the note aloud to the audience, they cheered.

The next day, the Y offered refunds to everyone who attended the event (including those watching via satellite in remote locations), saying that "We, too, were disappointed with the evening."

In short, this was a disaster on par with the Spider-Man musical. Think of it as Steve Martin: Turn Off the Art. Or more appropriately, think of it as a spin on the classic film Rashomon, because no one can agree on who is to blame. Solomon and Martin seem to think the Y was out of line for forcing the conversation toward more celebrity/pop culture topics. The Y says they expected a more rounded discussion of Martin's career instead of an in-depth discussion of art. And some people who were actually at the event blamed Solomon for forcing the direction of the discussion and asking granular questions about Martin's novel, which presumably most of the audience hadn't read.

What we need is for video of the event to surface so we can know the truth. Kind of like the Zapruder film—we all know how that settled things once and for all regarding the JFK assassination. Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be any cell phone video available—the event was so tedious, even cell phones went into sleep mode.

Meanwhile, it's clear from Martin's Twitter stream that he is still miffed at the 92nd Street Y. It wouldn't surprise me if he canceled his Y membership altogether and joined Curves instead.

Something Book Publicists Love to Hear: "Pretend I'm a Producer--Pitch Me My Book"

[From The Huffington Post]

This has happened to me more than once:

A publisher invites an author in for a let's-get-acquainted meeting to have an initial discussion about marketing and publicity. At a minimum, the editor, the publicist, and the marketing director are there, but the publicist's boss might be there too, and the agent, and some other people from marketing, or the art director, maybe the sales director, and someone to take notes -- in fact, this meeting could be so densely populated that people are spilling out the conference room door and tumbling into the hall.

And when the topic comes around to publicity, in front of all those people, the author turns to the publicist and says: "Pretend I'm a producer -- pitch me my book."

The author doesn't consciously mean to disrespect the publicist -- he or she is understandably curious about how the book will be presented to the media -- but even a moment's reflection will reveal what an appalling breach of etiquette this is.

What possible justification could there be for singling out the publicist in that situation? Unless the author plans to go around the table: Sales director, pretend I'm the buyer at B&N -- sell me my book. Editor, please edit this sample manuscript page for me. Publisher, please... do whatever it is you do.

Of course no one would do that. When an author enters a relationship with a publisher, it's with the understanding that everyone there is a professional and knows their job. That good faith should extend to the publicist as much as anyone else. Presumably the publicist didn't walk in off the street and attach themselves to the book -- they were assigned to it because they've established a track record of successfully publicizing books. They'd have to possess a level of skill and experience sufficient to earn the confidence of their colleagues, and therefore a place at the table (unless, as I say, it's really crowded -- then they might be squatting on the radiator or stretched out on the floor by the mini fridge).

In many instances, publicists will specifically ask to work on a particular book because they're pumped about the author or the subject. Putting them on the spot publicly is like throwing a bucket of water on a witch -- you can practically hear the hiss as their enthusiasm melts and dissolves into nothing.

"Pitch me my book" is essentially asking the publicist to audition. But publicists aren't performers, and despite the caricature of the loud, brash PR person, publicists can be reticent, even shy. Think about it -- they choose to spend their time drawing attention to other people, not themselves. Asking them to perform for the group is embarrassing and demeaning. And given the circumstances, even a veteran publicist's off-the-cuff pitch is likely to be underwhelming.

So what's a publicist to do when an author says "pitch me my book?" Some possible responses are:

• "No."
• "No way."
• "I'd prefer not to" (the Bartleby, the Scrivener strategy).

Another option is to turn the question back on the author. "What sort of producer are you?" the publicist might ask. "Are you with Good Morning America or RuPaul's Drag Race? Do you produce 60 Minutes or Dance Your Ass Off? Are you booking for Fresh Air or Mancow or Lewis and Floorwax or maybe Livestock News?..." The point here is that no single approach is going to be right for every producer or media outlet. The publicist will have variations on the pitch, or several different pitches, depending upon the outlet they're going after.

Perhaps the publicist's best recourse is to say: "I didn't come prepared to do that today and I don't want to waste everybody's time. You and I should talk separately and work together to develop some effective pitch angles." And then follow through on that.

Obviously not all publicists are created equal, and not all publicist-author matchups work out. If you're an author and have specific cause for alarm or you're just getting a bad vibe from your assigned publicist, take it up with your editor. Otherwise, give your publicist the benefit of the doubt. And please don't ask them to audition--they already got the part.

The Doggies of War

[From The Huffington Post]

This publishing season is thick with new and forthcoming memoirs by Bush administration insiders, from Donald Rumsfeld to Condoleezza Rice to Dick Cheney to President Bush himself. Now comes the most stunning inside account of the Bush administration to date: On the Spot: From Dog House to White House, by President Bush's dead dog Spot.

On the Spot was written with the help of the president's mother, Barbara Bush, the acknowledged authority on writing for household pets (see Millie's Book, 1990). In this new volume, Mrs. Bush demonstrates an unsuspected psychic ability, enabling her to act as the medium through which the spectral Spot tells her own remarkable story. For this reason, On the Spot marks an historic first: An inside look at a former President by a former First Lady channeling a dead dog.

Despite Mrs. Bush's involvement, however, this is Spot's unexpurgated story.  Not one woof has been omitted.

Spot, an English springer spaniel, and her companion Barney, a Scottish terrier, had the run of the White House and witnessed many key events of the Bush administration. Barney quickly gained a reputation as a "bad dog" -- he was the only one in the White House who refused to roll over for the president --and Spot emerged as Top Dog of the First Family. She remained so until, in failing health, she was put down in 2004. From beyond the grave, Spot describes:

• Why she was called Spot: Credit goes to the president and his knack foringenious nicknames.
• Her arrival at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, and the terrible surprise left by Socks, the Clintons' cat.
• Her pampered life as a White House pet: While other dogs settle for chasing the postman, Barney and Spot chased the Postmaster General.
• Her knack for being in the right place at the right time: When President Bush calls Donald Rumsfeld on the carpet, Spot is in the room going on the carpet.

From her unique, close-to-the floor perspective, Spot provides the "lowdown" on key administration figures. Among her revelations:

• Donald Rumsfeld wears Argyle socks with his blue suits.
  
• Dick Cheney's ankles are swollen to six times normal size.
  
• Colin Powell wears combat boots.
  
• Condoleezza Rice also wears combat boots.

Spot's most valuable role, however, is as a keen-eyed witness to history, as the following excerpts illustrate:

"The world believes President Bush choked on a pretzel. I was alone with him when it happened--only I know the truth. It was actually a Liv-A-Snap..."

 "Richard Clarke came into the Oval Office. He urgently wanted to talk about the Presidential Daily Briefing entitled 'Bin Laden Determined to Strike in U.S.' The president glanced at it and said, 'A little fuzzy, isn't it?' Then he rolled up the report and rapped me on the nose with it because I'd gone on the carpet again..."

 "George Tenet told the president that CIA intelligence indicated that locating weapons of mass destruction in Iraq would be a 'slam dunk.' The president said, 'George, you want to talk intelligence? You want to talk slam dunk? Watch this.'  He crumpled a piece of White House stationery into a ball and tossed it on the floor. I dutifully picked it up, carried it to the wastebasket, and dropped it in. The president threw his hands over his head and yelled: 'Score!'..."

"Colin Powell warned the president about 'the Pottery Barn rule -- you break it, you bought it.' The president said, 'I don't get it.' Then he said, 'Hey, watch what Spotty can do. Play dead, Spotty! C'mon girl! Play dead! Spot! I said play dead! C'mon, you stupid dog...'"

"The night before the invasion of Iraq, the president said, 'Spotty, they're sayin' we're gonna be greeted as liberators. What do you think? Is it gonna be a cakewalk or is it gonna be rough?' I told him, 'Rough! Rough!' But the president didn't listen. He just made me fetch a tennis ball..."

"Everyone was confused by the president's estimates of how long the U.S. would be in Iraq. You have to remember that the president made his calculations in dog years..."

On the Spot is a startling political exposé by an insider who knows where all the bones are buried -- including her own.

Also available in audio, e-book, and rawhide editions.

Test Your Knowledge of Literature's Greatest Bed Bug Infestations

[From The Huffington Post]

Identify the work of literature in which each bed bug infestation occurs:

A. In this short tale of mystery and imagination, a man is bitten by a strange gold bug, which leads to the discovery of a cryptograph revealing the location of Captain Kidd's treasure. The story's narrator, who is staying in the man's guest room, is bitten by bed bugs, but that only leads to itchy red marks all over his legs, arms and torso.

B. A Pharaoh refuses to allow the Hebrew people to leave Egypt. To persuade Pharaoh to change his mind, God sends a series of devastating plagues against the Egyptians, including infestations of lice, flies and locusts. Pharaoh finally relents, but after the Hebrews depart God sends an eleventh plague, bed bugs, just to remind Pharaoh who's boss. Pharaoh decides enough is enough and sets out to bring the Hebrews back, with disastrous results.

C. On the eve of his first whaling trip, a young seaman spends the night in a New Bedford inn. He is dismayed to find himself sharing his bed with an infestation of bed bugs. He is even more dismayed to find himself sharing his bed with a massive, heavily tattooed pagan harpooner from the South Seas. However, the two men soon forge a strong bond of friendship as they take turns trying to harpoon the bed bugs.

D. A 12-year-old girl whose name is a homophone for an American president complains to her film-star mother that she is unable to sleep because her bed is shaking. The mother concludes that the girl is demonically possessed and consults a Catholic priest. Further investigation reveals that the bed's vibrations were actually caused by a massive infestation of unusually rambunctious bed bugs, but by then a messy and disgusting exorcism is under way and there's no turning back. In defense of the ritual, the priest argues convincingly that the presence of bed bugs doesn't explain the girl's ability to rotate her head 360°.

E. A Devil's Island convict known for his butterfly tattoo develops a taste for other insects when he spends five years in solitary for attempting to escape. He supplements his meager penal colony diet by eating beetles, centipedes, spiders and bed bugs. Time and isolation eventually chip away at his sanity, and he begins engaging the vermin in conversation. He is surprised to learn that the bed bugs have worked out a foolproof plan of escape. Their breakout is successful, and he and the bed bugs are soon living the high life in Venezuela.

F. Literature's über bed bug: A man awakens in his bed to find he has turned into a bug. His concerned father immediately douses him with DDT and consults an exterminator.


Answers: A: The Gold-Bug, Edgar Allan Poe B: The Bible, Book of Exodus C: Moby-Dick, Herman Melville D: The Exorcist, William Peter Blatty E: Papillon, Henri Charrière F: The Metamorphosis, Franz Kafka

Be sure to try these other quizzes:
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