What pisses you off at Christmas time?

One of the things that pisses me off about is when people refer to pain in the ass money grubbers as “Scrooges.” So, for once and all–back off Ebenezer, you pricks! Scrooge should be heralded along with Santa Clause and Frosty as icons of giving and charity but no–those without a literary strand of hair on their heads persist in relegating Scrooge to the spot of his character prior to its transformation.

Consider the finality of Dickens’s masterpiece:

Scrooge was better than his word. He did it all, and infinitely more; and to Tiny Tim, who did not die, he was a second father. He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man, as the good old city knew, or any other good old city, town, or borough, in the good old world. Some people laughed to see the alteration in him, but he let them laugh, and little heeded them; for he was wise enough to know that nothing ever happened on this globe, for good, at which some people did not have their fill of laughter in the outset; and knowing that such as these would be blind anyway, he thought it quite as well that they should wrinkle up their eyes in grins, as have the malady in less attractive forms. His own heart laughed: and that was quite enough for him.

He had no further intercourse with Spirits, but lived upon the Total Abstinence Principle, ever afterwards; and it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and all of us! And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God Bless Us, Every One!

I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised that so many would fail to pay attention to the most important part of the story and of this character when so many Christians allowed the holiday celebrating the birth of their savior (which was actually commandeered from a Pagan Festival celebrating the Winter Solstice–a time when light begins to dominate over darkness) to become perverted into a commercialized version of goodwill and brotherly love.

But for the record–don’t call douche bags Scrooges around me because you’re likely to get an earful.

So, sound off–what is it that roast your chestnuts this time of year? Those pain in the ass Santa Clauses ringing their bells outside Wal-Mart? How about the endless potlucks at work? White Elephant gift exchanges where people sit around for an hour swapping household trash? What makes your Frosty balls melt in the greenhouse of yuletide?

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