A Better Christmas Carol

(no apologies to Charles Dickens, 1843)

“Christmas? Bah! Humbug!”

Scrooge didn’t much like Christmas. Too much self-renunciation for him. All his life Scrooge had given of himself freely. All his existence he had grudgingly sacrificed to god and the collective. This was supposed to give him “spiritual” joy or “superior” happiness. But it didn’t. Christmas was more of the same.

In fact, when it came to self-immolation, Christmas was in many respects worse. Scrooge had to give all his hundreds of employees a paid day off plus a decent bonus – and all for no reason. Bah, humbug, indeed!

Ebeneezer J. Scrooge was a tremendously rich man. He got that way thru hard work, high virtue, and true genius. His many businesses were exceptionally well-run and hence highly profitable. His customers simply loved him!

But Scrooge still wasn’t very happy. He hated the great ethos of his time: “Don’t be selfish or greedy – sacrifice yourself to The Other.” This almost universally-accepted moral code made no sense to him. It didn’t seem to benefit anyone, except maybe con-artists and low-lifes.

Indeed, self-sacrifice seemed to positively destroy his fellow man. Wasn’t everybody a “self”?

Still, almost everyone devotedly believed in this “altruism” stuff. Practically all of Scrooge’s right-wing conservative friends self-sacrificed to “god”. Or at least pretended to. Practically all of Scrooges’s left-wing progressive friends self-sacrificed to “the collective”. Or at least pretended to. Both groups believed in immolating The Self and slavishly serving The Other. And such thinkers certainly seemed to have a current-day monopoly on ethical theory.

Despite his great success, wealth, intelligence, virtue, and effort, Scrooge was relatively miserable. Life was strange for him. He couldn’t quite make it out. But that Christmas eve, after going to bed, he was visited in his dreams by the Ghost of Christmas Real.

“Ebby! Wake up, Ebby, old buddy!” the poltergeist said.

“Wha...?” said Scrooge. “What in the hell? Who are you? And my name is Ebeneezer, pal!”

“Ebby-boy! Chumley! You’re really screwing up! What’s wrong with you? Why are you so damned unhappy? Why is it you don’t even like Christmas – the best holiday of the year!”

“Why do you think? This jackass holiday is just more self-sacrifice to that phony Jebus fellow and the worthless masses. I hate both of them. Bah! Humbug!”

“Yes, but...Christmas isn’t all about self-sacrifice, Ebby. In fact, it doesn’t involve that at all! Who told you that?”

“Well, everybody.”

“They’re lying. Or at least badly misinformed. Christmas is about lyrical wonder, magical delight, and all manor of joyful activity. It’s about family, friends, shared pleasure, and gift-giving to those you value and love!” The Ghost of Christmas Real paused a moment to gather himself. “Christmas is about a jolly old elf – a fair-minded, benevolent, and virtuous Santa, busy judging who’s naughty and nice!”

“What does that mean?”

“Merit, man! Justice! Human excellence! Christmas is all about moral goodness and personal pleasure – not self-sacrifice and personal destruction.”

“That’s news to me!”

“Well, now you know, Ebeneezer Jack Scroogenheimer! Pay attention!”

“I am. Tell me more, please! Who knew ghosts could be so insightful and wise? Who knew ghosts even existed? Especially those who somehow embody a holiday ideal and mere abstract concept!”

“Don’t be a wise-ass.”

“Make me. Say, are you friends with the Holy Ghost – Jebus himself?”

“Now you’re being a real jerk.”

“Just making friendly conversation with my supernatural chum and educator!”

“Dick. The point is, you’ve got Christmas all wrong.”

“How so?”

“Christmas is a secular holiday, dedicated to light-hearted festivities, personal joy, and those you love. It doesn’t involve self-sacrifice as its base or essence.”

“Okay...”

“You should celebrate it. And all of life. Human existence is wonderful.”

“So no more of this morality-based self-sacrifice to god and the collective business?”

“Hell, no! Your self should never be sacrificed. Indeed, you’re supposed to be continually selfish and greedy. This is the only life that the cosmos is going to grant you, you know. Ethically speaking, you’re supposed to be selfish and greedy 100% of the time.”

“Explain that.”

“Every human life is sacred. A special gift. A pure treasure. Your existence is precious and valuable beyond belief. You should worship this life of yours to the hilt at every moment. You should selfishly exploit and greedily enjoy every tiny bit of it.”

“What about other people?”

“To hell with other people!”

“Well, now...”

“Okay. That was a bit harsh. Still, a great deal of life’s essence and joy is private and personal. Other people aren’t involved.

“But, yes, much of our lives are social too. Humans are naturally cooperative and sociable creatures. Often, the best happiness is shared. That’s a great deal of what Christmas is based upon.

“I think I understand...”

“So, please, no more of thios self-sacrifice to god and the collectiv e nonsense. They don’t really exist, you know. An ecen if they did, you couldn’t much impact or help them.

“The so-called god or collective are really big, abstract ideals and pseudo-entities that don’t actually understands or care about you. To them you’re fantastically small. But you know and care about yourself a lot. Or at least you should.”

“Got it.”

“Never self-sacrifice, Ebeneezy, old bean. That’s the ultimate sin. You need to selfishly and greedily care about ytour person and life and values 100%.

“Your hopes, drams, convictions, and ideals are all-important and truly sacred. So are all your lofty principles and goals. Go for them! Be 100% selfish and greedy about it. That’s true human nobility and idealism. That’s what life is all about!”

“You know, you’re pretty smart for a dubious supernatural entity and mere intellectual concept brought to life.”

“You’re being a smart-ass again.”

“Not at all! I’m grateful for you help. May I ask: Should I at least be liberal and loving to my family and friends as I celebrate myself, my life, and the Christmas holiday?”

“Generous and magnanimous, yes. Charitable and merciful, no. This last is just more self-sacrificial foolishness and self-destruction. More ‘selfishness and greed are wrong’ gibberish and depravity.

“You should try to share happiness and values with your high-quality family and friends – with those of mutual convictions and ideals. Life is beautiful when you swap value-for-value to mutual benefit and profit. Just like all your businesses.”

“I see. Thanks for all this philosophic explanation! You’re a real genius and savior, ghost-buddy.”

“That’s what they pay me for!”

“Who’s ‘they’? How do they ‘pay’ you?”

“Oh, my! Look at the time! Would love to stay and chat all night long, Scroogey-boy, but gotta run. Bye!”

Ebeneezer Scrooge looked on in amazement as the Ghost of Christmas Real disappeared. Then he fell asleep most pleasantly, with a pure heart. Unlike a certain fictional friend of his, Scrooge didn’t expect to have uneasy dreams, nor to wake up as a giant cockroach. And he didn’t!

The next day Scrooge had an especially fine Christmas dinner and celebration with all of his favorite family members and friends, including Bob Crachit and his loving wife. He treated them all well, but without offering self-sacrifice to deities, masses, or strangers.

Truth be told, Scrooge selfishly and greedily enjoyed himself and his valued companions more than he ever had before. The holiday dancing, singing, story-telling, and joke-telling was lively and raucous, with everybody enjoying themselves thoroughly. In fact, never was there a more merry Christmas!

That night, on his way home, Scrooge saw a pathetic-looking, sickly, poor boy. He shook his money-purse at him, letting all his solid gold coins jingle like sleigh-bells. The woebegone and desperate child gazed upon Scrooge with raw envy.

The Scrooge loftily told the boy that he could have have some if he would locate “some of the finest, juiciest, tastiest, plumpest gooses of young girls he could find” and bring them to him. The humble boy yelled “Yes, sir!” and was off like a shot.

Within the hour the resourceful young man found and brought three absolutely marvelous and bewitching damsels, and was most generously compensated. All three angels from heaven spent the night at Scrooge’s home and received a handsome reward for their efforts. None of the four wee involved in self-sacrifice to the others, but rather all were selfish and greedy to the max. The sensual delights of Scrooge, and the financial gains of the girls, were such that for all four it was the best Christmas ever!