To all my fellow Ebenezers, I wish upon you the wonderful gift of coal lumps, enough to heat your office, your home, enough to provide you with electricity. Rather than being a nasty gift, this bountiful resource provides warmth, energy, and lasts a long time.
As for that famous Christmas Story? They got it all wrong. The truth is far more painful. In reality, our hero Scrooge suffered a bout of almost deadly food poisoning. Those ghosts who visited him were simply a delusional based symptom of bad food, possibly the result of swallowing an uncooked piece of pork.
The Ghost of Christmas Past? Bah. Humbug, Bah! Hey, if you want to have a really powerful nightmare, the time spent in a British boarding school is the best place to start. Just ask any graduate.
(Little known secret: Jacob Marley, Ebenezer’s recently deceased partner, was the grandpa of Bob Marley, the famous reggae singer. His illicit, but torrid, affair with his Hot Hot Hot Jamaican maid was the talk of the town!)
That ghost of Christmas Present? Damn Christians. If that fool Crachit had bothered to use proper birth control methods, and PLANNED a more realistic sized family (instead of making his wife preggers each year), his family issues would have been far more manageable given his very generous income from Scrooge and Marley. Even if Tiny Tim were born to that worthless, lazy slug of his wife, medical care would have been readily affordable. But NOOOOOOO. To those of Chrachit’s faith, condoms are “immoral”. So what happens? That fool has lots of kids, all starving, all sick, all disease ridden – all due to his religion.
Fools. Of course, if he REALLY wanted a large family, he could have always worked overtime, or gotten a second job. Did he never consider sending his wife out to work? It would have prevented too many kids, and still increased the family’s net income.
Finally, that Ghost of Christmas yet to come? The Darth Vader (Cheney?) of Christmas ghosts. Proof positive that eating an undercooked, bad meat pudding on an empty tummy is really going to twist your mind.
Obviously, his body temperature was elevated way too high for at least three days and nights in a row. Those elevated temps resulted in a form of temporary dementia. I mean really. Look at the facts. Buying the largest raw turkey in the shop as a gift? On CHRISTMAS DAY? Do you have any idea how long that damned bird will take to cook? Forget about a Christmas meal. Think two days in the stove to fully cook that monster. And that assumes that a pregnant Mrs. Chrachit had a stove and a pan big enough for the damned thing AND she gathered enough coal to cook it.
One thing is certain. After three long, tough days of serious illness, Scrooge really needed serious medical care, and not to go on some demented shopping spree.