Whitney (Natalie Portman) battles zombie mall cops physically indistinguishable from regular mall cops.

The plot runs parallel to the first movie, telling the tale of a different group of still-human survivors.  With the film’s expanded budget comes big talent.  Natalie Portman stars alongside Benicio Del Toro and Matthew Broderick.  Though zombie films traditionally cast lesser-known actors to enhance the “realness” of the apocalypse, somehow, in P-Zed2, it works.

A survivalist couple who live “off the grid” (including Portman) have their lives shaken to the core when a philosophical zombie of the apocalypse wanders onto its property.  At first, they are not overly suspicious of the zombie (as, true to the series, it is behaviorally indistinguishable from uninfected humans).  Soon, though, they begin to suspect that the visitor only “thinks” it “is,” without actually therefore-I-am’ing.  Too late they realize the truth, and the husband is infected by the zombie “thinking” “about” him, turning him into a “him” who is otherwise completely indistinguishable from how he once was, a shuddering mockery of consciousness that is without being.

As Portman flees for her life, she runs across a band of survivors (led by Del Toro).  Together, they have to fight for survival and come to terms with the end of conscious society (where the new one is physically indistinguishable from regular society).  They decide to barricade themselves in a local shopping mall, but all is not well as they are constantly harassed by philosophical zombies trying to get into the GAP and Cinnabon.  Blood and gore are bountiful as the survivors tear through hordes of the Walking Unconscious, who are eerily physically identical to the normal men, women, children, and eventually SWAT teams they once were.

The famous teaser poster for Philosophical Zombie 2

Honestly, after viewing the film in its entirety, my initial reaction was that it actually wasn’t very different from many other zombie movies in recent memory.  It shares the same basic plot from everything from Dawn of the Dead to Left 4 Dead zombie outbreak, and a few survivors facing the fall of human society.  Whatever additional plot there may have been, I don’t think it could possibly be detected.  But I feel like it still influences the film.

The acting was top-notch and appropriately horrified, from stars and new faces alike.  Especially noteworthy was Natalie Portman’s first foray into full-frontal nudity, albeit mostly obscured by sprays of zombie blood.  The zombies were also fantastic – all played by Matthew Broderick.  With the flawless philosophical zombie makeup, you could really believe that he was physically and behaviorally indistinguishable from a regular human being.  It really draws one into the film.

CGI techniques used to create huge crowds of zombies turned Broderick into a horde of the Walking Unconscious unto himself.  And fans of the series will appreciate the numerous Easter Eggs and callbacks, like the reappearance of the fan-favorite movie chain Cartesian Theater.

And if all this isn’t enough for you, 20th Century Fox confirmed a second sequel, Philosophical Zombie 3, is already in the works.  However, despite promises of a resolution to the story, the series seems poised to merely retread the same ground over and over again.

Philosophical Zombie 2 opens this Friday.  It’s rated R, and it means it, so don’t take the kids.  Not recommended for philosophers over the age of Daniel Dennett.

Seriously, I can’t be alone in this. I mean, I’m not crazy, I know they’re not actual women you can “do the deed with”, so to speak. But their breasts are always perfectly proportioned! And I just know that, if they weren’t made of hard plastic, they’d be just the right size to gently cup in my hand.

And, of course, if they were real, they would love me.

Sure, it’s vaguely creepy when they don’t have heads, or faces, or arms, but you know what else didn’t have arms? The Venus de Milo. The sexy grandmother of all mannequins. And anyone alive would have sex with the Venus de Milo if it had functional waterworks.

Now, now, now, calm down. I’m not the first person to suggest that statues should come to life and be forced to mate with their creators. I’m also not the first person to hide in clothing racks until there’s no one around, and then masturbate furiously onto the closest dummy. And I won’t be the last.

Your head would look good on the end of a pole!

Jesus Christ, you people are uptight! Ok, how many of you have played Civ IV? Isabella of Spain? Chick is fi-ine. Can anyone here honestly say they’ve never gotten her “Friendly” so she smiles at you? She’s so hot when she yawns while we’re trading world maps!

Of course, none of those ladies can compare to the very best: the hot jailbait on the school crossing sign. I mean, look at that ass! I am so jealous of the man-silhouette who gets to touch that allllll he wants.

Excuse me a minute….

There, I said it. It’s out there, go ahead and mock my basement-dwelling, Mountain Dew-chugging, cheese puff-eating tushie. I play D&D. And y’know what? I enjoy it. It’s freakin’ fun.

There’s something missing from the D&D experience though. At times, the adventure can seem a bit too disconnected from the reality we live in (fancy that). Noting this, I took it upon myself to add a new class to the ranks of Barbarian, Wizard, Ranger, and the like, a hero for a more refined age.

Ladies, Gentlemen, and otherwise… I present the Democrat character class for D&D 3.5!

Democrat

From the depths of the most gargantuan cities to the houses of the smallest hamlets, there are always individuals who believe that the world can be better, that people can be equal, that the wilderness can be preserved, and that everyone can be as happy and as healthy as everyone else. These men and women are known as Democrats, and they are sworn to bringing about the social change that they deem necessary in the world. A Democrat believes himself to be a great hero, and acts in such a way that others tend to believe it too, no matter what his actions are. As master speakers and manipulators, a Democrat can easily bring others into the fold to campaign for his desired goals.

Adventures: Democrats are drawn to the adventuring life in order to better the world in some way, to help the downtrodden, the poor, the hungry, the huddled masses yearning to breathe free. If there is an opportunity to help a group of people achieve freedom or equality in some way, there is likely to be a Democrat around, attempting to help. Very rarely do Democrats take part in military campaigns, as nonviolence is a highly prized characteristic in Democratic circles.

Characteristics: Anyone can be a Democrat. Even those you least expect.

Alignment: Any, though a Democrat will believe that he is Lawful Good, no matter what his actual alignment is. He will justify any action he takes as being for the greater good.

Religion: To be a Democrat, a character must be an atheist. Furthermore, and character with a level in Democrat cannot take a level in Paladin, Cleric, Wizard, Sorcerer, or any other class which deals with the arcane or divine, as Democrats believe only in the power of the proletariat. If a character with levels in a class which uses divine magic takes a level in Democrat, they must exchange all levels in their previous class for levels of Democrat.

Background: Democrats come from any number of backgrounds, from the poorest of the poor who desire to help people who came from similar circumstances, to the richest of the rich who wish to help the less fortunate, to corrupt officials who wish to stay in power through manipulation of the masses. As stated earlier, anyone can be a democrat.

Races: Members of any race can be a democrat, but they are most often humans, as they are one of the youngest and least-experienced races.

Other classes: Democrats despise members of any class which deals with religion, and often believe that magic-users are simply very talented tricksters. They usually get on well with Druids and Rangers, as their affinity for nature gels well with the Democrat’s desire to preserve it. In general, the less violent a class’s role is, the better they will get along with the Democrat, especially at higher levels.

Role: From a player character’s point of view, a Democrat doesn’t really have a useful role to perform in a party setting. The Democrat specializes in charisma-based abilities, but no more so than a Bard or Sorcerer. From the Dungeon Master’s perspective, though, the presence of a Democrat can make a storyline much more interesting! Democrats can cause trouble for companions and enemies alike, and can solve problems in an incredibly original fashion…or create them!

Game Rule Information Democrats have the following game statistics. Abilities: Charisma is the most important statistic for a Democrat, as they gain power by convincing others to follow them and do their bidding. All others are secondary. Hit die: d6 Class Skills: The Democrat’s class skills (and the key ability for each skill) are Appraise (Int), Bluff (Cha), Concentration (Con), Decipher Script (Int), Diplomacy (Cha), Disguise (Cha), Gather Information (Cha), Hide (Dex), Knowledge (all skills, taken individually) (Int), Listen (Wis), Perform (Cha), Profession (Barrister) (Wis), Sense Motive (Wis), Speak Language (Rhetoric) (n/a), See Chapter 4: Skills in the D&D Player’s Handbook for skill descriptions. Skill Points at First Level: (6+Cha modifier)x4 Skill Points at Each Additional Level: 6+Cha modifier

Class Features All of the following are class features of the Democrat. Weapon and Armor Proficiency: A Democrat is proficient with all simple weapons and light armor that are completely biodegradable, as he does not wish to harm the environment. Any weapon or armor made of organic material (a club or studded leather, for example) must have been crafted from an already dead organism. If the Democrat is not completely sure that his gear falls into this category, he is required to roll 1d20 at the beginning of combat. If the roll is less than 11, he may not participate in combat while wielding the questionable gear. Class abilities:

Culturally Sensitive The Democrat is constantly walking on eggshells to avoid insulting beings of other races. The Democrat adds a number equal to half their level, rounded up, to all charisma-based checks with beings of other races which have an alignment identical to the Democrat. If the being in question has an alignment that does not match the Democrat, the being will become annoyed by the Democrat’s pandering, and the bonus becomes negative.

Yes We Can! Starting at level 3, the Democrat sees the light of hope and change. Deep down in the soul that he does not believe exists, the Democrat believes that he can accomplish anything, no matter what the obstacles are. The Democrat becomes constantly under the effects of Inspire Courage, as per the Bard ability.

Unionize! Starting at level 5, the Democrat feels an urge to ensure that all members of [...]]]> I play Dungeons and Dragons.

There, I said it. It’s out there, go ahead and mock my basement-dwelling, Mountain Dew-chugging, cheese puff-eating tushie. I play D&D. And y’know what? I enjoy it. It’s freakin’ fun.

There’s something missing from the D&D experience though. At times, the adventure can seem a bit too disconnected from the reality we live in (fancy that). Noting this, I took it upon myself to add a new class to the ranks of Barbarian, Wizard, Ranger, and the like, a hero for a more refined age.

Ladies, Gentlemen, and otherwise… I present the Democrat character class for D&D 3.5!

Democrat

From the depths of the most gargantuan cities to the houses of the smallest hamlets, there are always individuals who believe that the world can be better, that people can be equal, that the wilderness can be preserved, and that everyone can be as happy and as healthy as everyone else. These men and women are known as Democrats, and they are sworn to bringing about the social change that they deem necessary in the world. A Democrat believes himself to be a great hero, and acts in such a way that others tend to believe it too, no matter what his actions are. As master speakers and manipulators, a Democrat can easily bring others into the fold to campaign for his desired goals.

Adventures: Democrats are drawn to the adventuring life in order to better the world in some way, to help the downtrodden, the poor, the hungry, the huddled masses yearning to breathe free. If there is an opportunity to help a group of people achieve freedom or equality in some way, there is likely to be a Democrat around, attempting to help. Very rarely do Democrats take part in military campaigns, as nonviolence is a highly prized characteristic in Democratic circles.

Characteristics: Anyone can be a Democrat. Even those you least expect.

Alignment: Any, though a Democrat will believe that he is Lawful Good, no matter what his actual alignment is. He will justify any action he takes as being for the greater good.

Religion: To be a Democrat, a character must be an atheist. Furthermore, and character with a level in Democrat cannot take a level in Paladin, Cleric, Wizard, Sorcerer, or any other class which deals with the arcane or divine, as Democrats believe only in the power of the proletariat. If a character with levels in a class which uses divine magic takes a level in Democrat, they must exchange all levels in their previous class for levels of Democrat.

Background: Democrats come from any number of backgrounds, from the poorest of the poor who desire to help people who came from similar circumstances, to the richest of the rich who wish to help the less fortunate, to corrupt officials who wish to stay in power through manipulation of the masses. As stated earlier, anyone can be a democrat.

Races: Members of any race can be a democrat, but they are most often humans, as they are one of the youngest and least-experienced races.

Other classes: Democrats despise members of any class which deals with religion, and often believe that magic-users are simply very talented tricksters. They usually get on well with Druids and Rangers, as their affinity for nature gels well with the Democrat’s desire to preserve it. In general, the less violent a class’s role is, the better they will get along with the Democrat, especially at higher levels.

Role: From a player character’s point of view, a Democrat doesn’t really have a useful role to perform in a party setting. The Democrat specializes in charisma-based abilities, but no more so than a Bard or Sorcerer. From the Dungeon Master’s perspective, though, the presence of a Democrat can make a storyline much more interesting! Democrats can cause trouble for companions and enemies alike, and can solve problems in an incredibly original fashion…or create them!

Game Rule Information
Democrats have the following game statistics.
Abilities: Charisma is the most important statistic for a Democrat, as they gain power by convincing others to follow them and do their bidding. All others are secondary.
Hit die: d6
Class Skills: The Democrat’s class skills (and the key ability for each skill) are Appraise (Int), Bluff (Cha), Concentration (Con), Decipher Script (Int), Diplomacy (Cha), Disguise (Cha), Gather Information (Cha), Hide (Dex), Knowledge (all skills, taken individually) (Int), Listen (Wis), Perform (Cha), Profession (Barrister) (Wis), Sense Motive (Wis), Speak Language (Rhetoric) (n/a), See Chapter 4: Skills in the D&D Player’s Handbook for skill descriptions.
Skill Points at First Level: (6+Cha modifier)x4
Skill Points at Each Additional Level: 6+Cha modifier

Class Features
All of the following are class features of the Democrat.
Weapon and Armor Proficiency: A Democrat is proficient with all simple weapons and light armor that are completely biodegradable, as he does not wish to harm the environment. Any weapon or armor made of organic material (a club or studded leather, for example) must have been crafted from an already dead organism. If the Democrat is not completely sure that his gear falls into this category, he is required to roll 1d20 at the beginning of combat. If the roll is less than 11, he may not participate in combat while wielding the questionable gear.

Class abilities:

Culturally Sensitive
The Democrat is constantly walking on eggshells to avoid insulting beings of other races. The Democrat adds a number equal to half their level, rounded up, to all charisma-based checks with beings of other races which have an alignment identical to the Democrat. If the being in question has an alignment that does not match the Democrat, the being will become annoyed by the Democrat’s pandering, and the bonus becomes negative.

Yes We Can!
Starting at level 3, the Democrat sees the light of hope and change. Deep down in the soul that he does not believe exists, the Democrat believes that he can accomplish anything, no matter what the obstacles are. The Democrat becomes constantly under the effects of Inspire Courage, as per the Bard ability.

Unionize!
Starting at level 5, the Democrat feels an urge to ensure that all members of his party receive equal shares of the loot and treasure that they procure, regardless of amount of work done. Until everyone in the party agrees to such an arrangement, the Democrat will forego all non-essential actions, constantly preaching and expounding the virtues of “unionizing the party”.

Spread the Wealth Around
Starting at level 7, the Democrat becomes angry at the fact that despite his best efforts, some people are better off than others. He will become angry at anyone who is wealthier than he is, and feels compelled to redistribute their wealth in any way he can, be it robbery, trickery, blackmail, or anything else he can think of. The Democrat will justify this action as being good, no matter what action he takes. The Democrat will take a -2 penalty to all saving throws as long as he is aware of a target wealthy individual.

Self-Loathing
Starting at level 9, the Democrat becomes aware how much better off he is than some people in the world, and begins to hate himself for being alive, healthy, and having luxuries, when there are so many others in the world who are starving and slaving under tyrants. When the Democrat finds any sort of treasure or loot, he has a very slight compulsion to use it to better the life of some unfortunate being. The Democrat must make a will save of 1, or donate his share of the loot and treasure to a being or group of beings that he deems underprivileged. If the Democrat makes the will save, he will keep all of his share of the loot, and insist that he will use it for noble purposes, even though he probably has no intention of doing so.

Bleeding Heart
At 11th level, the Democrat becomes painfully aware of the intense and constant suffering that everyone else in the world feels, and is overwhelmed with guilt. Up to 3 times each day at the Dungeon Master’s command, the Democrat must make a will save to engage in action that could cause any sort of unhappiness or discomfort for anyone else, even in situations where inaction will have terrible consequences for the Democrat and his/her party of adventurers.

An Inconvenient Truth
Starting at level 13, the Democrat realizes that the ends justify the means (as far as his goals and actions are concerned) and will lie to anyone about anything as long as it advances their personal goals. If telling the truth would negatively impact the Democrat’s plans, he must lie. If the Democrat wishes to tell the truth in such a situation (who knows why), he must make a will save of 20 to do so.

Hell No, We Won’t Go!
Starting at 15^th level, the Democrat discovers that violence is not only not always the answer, but never the answer. When faced with a combat situation, the Democrat must make a will save of 20 or be unable to take any combative action for the duration of the battle, and instead spends the entire fight lecturing all involved about the evils of fisticuffs. If he is somehow forced into combat, the Democrat takes a -10 to all his base attack bonuses.

Health Care Reform
At 17^th level, the Democrat feels the urge to provide healing to all beings in the world, regardless of race, creed, nationality, or otherwise. When faced with an injured being or group of beings (such as a party or town) outside of combat, the Democrat must roll 1d6 on the following table:

A Legend in his Own Mind
At 20^th level, the Democrat becomes aware that he is the greatest being that has ever existed in the entirety of the universe. If his base Charisma score is below an 18, it is raised to that number. The Democrat may attempt to recruit people to his cause. Any NPC with an intelligence of 8 or below is automatically convinced to change their way of life and goals to that of the Democrat, while NPC’s with an intelligence of 10 or higher must be convinced by a charisma-based check. The Democrat may convince mass numbers of people to join him at once, and anyone who can clearly hear him speak or who reads his written call to action may be instantly convinced to join him. They will be oblivious to any actions he takes which are in opposition to his public goals, and will go out of their way to justify anything he does, no matter how heinous. The Democrat may command his legions to do anything he wishes, and they will comply without question. Player characters must make a will save of 30 to avoid being recruited to the Democrat’s cause, though PCs that have traveled with the Democrat since level 1 (or, if the game starts with PCs at a higher level, since early in the adventure, at the DM’s discretion) are immune, as they can see right through his bullshit.

Ex-Democrats
A Democrat who renounces the beliefs and practices of his class cannot progress in levels as a Democrat, and loses all Democrat abilities except Yes We Can!

Human Democrat Starting Package
Armor:  None (speed 30 ft.)
Weapons:  Quarterstaff (naturally harvested) (1d6/1d6, crit x2, 4 lb., two-handed, bludgeoning)
Skill Selection: Pick a number of skills equal to 6+Cha modifier, 4 ranks in each, from the list of class skills under the Game Rule Information subsection.
Feat: Deceitful
Gear: None. The Democrat believes that the wealthy should provide for him.
Gold: None. See above.

“It was so sweet the way the Rock of Ages filled in for the injured Santa,” said critic Danielle Steele. “And the veterinary proficiency Jesus displayed in healing Rudolf’s ailing nose was astounding. When the Light of the World worked for hours to fix Santa’s sleigh during that one montage sequence, I was ready to cry.” Added Steele, “That ticking clock motif really got to me.”

“When some zany elf rebels captured Mrs. Clause and took her to the U.S.S.R., I really thought it was all over,” said theatergoer Ray Wilkins. “The ensuing passage where Jesus tracked down and fought the Communists and their dinosaurs in their tundra lair was one of the most meaningful moments of my life, perhaps anyone’s life anywhere. It shows that while Jesus seemed hardboiled on the outside, on the inside he’s a man with a big heart… which may or may not be on fire.”

Eyewitnesses have reported that Jesus proceeded to bring back the stolen presents, reunite his estranged parents, and teach a child to believe in Santa Clause… and in himself.

“It’s a Christmas miracle,” said young Krustavich, whose faith in humanity (and in Jesus) had been restored.

This salvation of a cherished time of togetherness as a family came as a relief after 1996, when some Spanish guy saved Christmas and no one could understand him or give him a job that paid above minimum wage.

This article was previously published in readme, Carnegie Mellon University’s one-stop source for things that probably aren’t true.

“Bah!”, said Scrooge. “Humbug!”

He had so heated himself with rapid walking in the fog and frost, this nephew of Scrooge’s, that he was all in a glow; his face was ruddy and handsome; his eyes sparkled, and his breath smoked again.

“Christmas a humbug, uncle?”, said Scrooge’s nephew. “You don’t mean that, I am sure?”

“I do”, said Scrooge. “‘Merry Christmas’! What right have you to be merry? What reason have you to be merry? You’re poor enough.”

“Come, then”, returned the nephew gaily. “What right have you to be dismal? What reason have you to be morose? You’re rich enough.”

Scrooge stopped writing and looked up at his nephew with a stare as cold as the air in the bleak counting house. “Christmas,” said the old miser, “is nothing but a reminder of the inevitable passage of time, an anniversary upon which the fates decide to heap another tragedy upon my life.”

The nephew took a seat as the old man continued, his voice barely concealing a cruel cynical laugh of contempt. “How should I celebrate Christmas, then? Shall I spend the evening alone with my books, as I did as a child? While every other student of the boarding school was fattening himself upon roasts and candied fruits, I was in solitude save for Ali Babba taking sanctuary from your grandfather, a man who held me a grudge for killing my mother in childbirth. My first Christmases were full of pain and disappointment, watching your mother open lavish gifts while I received nothing but my father’s bitter wisdom. ‘The gift of life should be enough for you, Ebenezer,’ he would say. ‘Heaven knows we paid enough for it and have yet to profit from the exchange.’ No, no Christmas of my youth should serve as template for celebration.”

A tear was at the corner of the nephew’s eye, eyes so like his mother’s. She too would cry come Christmas and would secretly offer to share whatever she received with the young Ebenezer to try and keep his spirits up. But he always refused. It was the name slot on the tags he wanted, not the gifts inside. Inside, the nephew felt a burning surge of empathy for the old man; he knew what it was like to be blamed for the death of one’s mother.

“I suppose I had one happy Christmas, at old Fezziwig’s fabric store as an apprentice. He threw the most lavish of parties, especially considering he spent so little on it. I danced then, you know, and was known as being quite agile on my feet. And I met her, Belle, a beautiful young woman in appearance and soul. We danced, we laughed, we loved.”

A smile crept up on the old man, slowly working facial muscles long atrophied to the years. A small hope crept up inside the nephew, before being crushed. “But, the higher the rise, the greater the fall. I poured my soul into my work for her, to earn her, taking the small inheritance I received and lending it out, investing, to build a solid foundation for our future. Christmas after Christmas she expected me to seal our contract, and Christmas after Christmas I was unready. Those were years of building disappointment and a growing gap between us. Should I celebrate those Christmases? A toast to what I had once and lost due to time? Shall I roast a goose to honor the hours of silence that emerged? Or decorate a tree with baubles of her increasingly distant stare? No, not those Christmases, for there I found misery in company where I had only known it in solitude, and was all the worse for it, for she gave me a heart only to let it break and decay.”

“Or what of the Christmas where she left me? Shattered our contract, right there in park. She didn’t even look at me until the words ‘I release you, Ebenezer,’ left her lips. She left me there, completely alone save for the coins in my pocket! The second she stopped being the complete and total center of my existence, the moment I had to share the space on altar to her with the financial needs of our lives, she refused to understand me, to love me, and it destroyed me. I walked out of that park past carolers and happy children playing in the snow, unable to relate to any of them. Some babe born in a pig sty millennia ago and they’re out singing in the snow! Bah! Humbug!”

“I lost myself in my work. Marley, my only real companion, you couldn’t call him a friend. But the cruel fates took him from me on your precious Christmas as well, seven years ago this day! Don’t you see, nephew? Christmas for others may be a time of reconciliation, of loved ones coming together. For me, it is a day of loved ones being cruelly separated. For me, this is a day of humiliation at the hands of my father, rejection at the hands of Belle, solitude at the hands of Marley. It is a day of tears being repressed and somber memories and thoughts discarded. How else could a man like I survive? To open myself up to the world, to Christmas, is to only invite pain. The only way to endure is to refuse to feel.”

“Perhaps when you are an older, wiser man, [...]]]> “A merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!”, cried a cheerful voice. It was the voice of Scrooge’s nephew, who came upon him so quickly that this was the first intimation he had of his approach.

“Bah!”, said Scrooge. “Humbug!”

He had so heated himself with rapid walking in the fog and frost, this nephew of Scrooge’s, that he was all in a glow; his face was ruddy and handsome; his eyes sparkled, and his breath smoked again.

“Christmas a humbug, uncle?”, said Scrooge’s nephew. “You don’t mean that, I am sure?”

“I do”, said Scrooge. “‘Merry Christmas’! What right have you to be merry? What reason have you to be merry? You’re poor enough.”

“Come, then”, returned the nephew gaily. “What right have you to be dismal? What reason have you to be morose? You’re rich enough.”

Scrooge stopped writing and looked up at his nephew with a stare as cold as the air in the bleak counting house. “Christmas,” said the old miser, “is nothing but a reminder of the inevitable passage of time, an anniversary upon which the fates decide to heap another tragedy upon my life.”

The nephew took a seat as the old man continued, his voice barely concealing a cruel cynical laugh of contempt. “How should I celebrate Christmas, then? Shall I spend the evening alone with my books, as I did as a child? While every other student of the boarding school was fattening himself upon roasts and candied fruits, I was in solitude save for Ali Babba taking sanctuary from your grandfather, a man who held me a grudge for killing my mother in childbirth. My first Christmases were full of pain and disappointment, watching your mother open lavish gifts while I received nothing but my father’s bitter wisdom. ‘The gift of life should be enough for you, Ebenezer,’ he would say. ‘Heaven knows we paid enough for it and have yet to profit from the exchange.’ No, no Christmas of my youth should serve as template for celebration.”

A tear was at the corner of the nephew’s eye, eyes so like his mother’s. She too would cry come Christmas and would secretly offer to share whatever she received with the young Ebenezer to try and keep his spirits up. But he always refused. It was the name slot on the tags he wanted, not the gifts inside. Inside, the nephew felt a burning surge of empathy for the old man; he knew what it was like to be blamed for the death of one’s mother.

“I suppose I had one happy Christmas, at old Fezziwig’s fabric store as an apprentice. He threw the most lavish of parties, especially considering he spent so little on it. I danced then, you know, and was known as being quite agile on my feet. And I met her, Belle, a beautiful young woman in appearance and soul. We danced, we laughed, we loved.”

A smile crept up on the old man, slowly working facial muscles long atrophied to the years. A small hope crept up inside the nephew, before being crushed. “But, the higher the rise, the greater the fall. I poured my soul into my work for her, to earn her, taking the small inheritance I received and lending it out, investing, to build a solid foundation for our future. Christmas after Christmas she expected me to seal our contract, and Christmas after Christmas I was unready. Those were years of building disappointment and a growing gap between us. Should I celebrate those Christmases? A toast to what I had once and lost due to time? Shall I roast a goose to honor the hours of silence that emerged? Or decorate a tree with baubles of her increasingly distant stare? No, not those Christmases, for there I found misery in company where I had only known it in solitude, and was all the worse for it, for she gave me a heart only to let it break and decay.”

“Or what of the Christmas where she left me? Shattered our contract, right there in park. She didn’t even look at me until the words ‘I release you, Ebenezer,’ left her lips. She left me there, completely alone save for the coins in my pocket! The second she stopped being the complete and total center of my existence, the moment I had to share the space on altar to her with the financial needs of our lives, she refused to understand me, to love me, and it destroyed me. I walked out of that park past carolers and happy children playing in the snow, unable to relate to any of them. Some babe born in a pig sty millennia ago and they’re out singing in the snow! Bah! Humbug!”

“I lost myself in my work. Marley, my only real companion, you couldn’t call him a friend. But the cruel fates took him from me on your precious Christmas as well, seven years ago this day! Don’t you see, nephew? Christmas for others may be a time of reconciliation, of loved ones coming together. For me, it is a day of loved ones being cruelly separated. For me, this is a day of humiliation at the hands of my father, rejection at the hands of Belle, solitude at the hands of Marley. It is a day of tears being repressed and somber memories and thoughts discarded. How else could a man like I survive? To open myself up to the world, to Christmas, is to only invite pain. The only way to endure is to refuse to feel.”

“Perhaps when you are an older, wiser man, when funerals outnumber birthdays, you’ll understand. Keep Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it in mine.”

“Keep it!” repeated Scrooge’s nephew. “But you don’t keep it.”

“Let me leave it alone, then,” said Scrooge. “Given my previous record with the holiday, the most I can hope for is that Christmas will return the favor of forced indifference! Good day, sir.”

There was a beat where nobody dared move. Then, the old man shouted, “I said, good day!”

The nephew turned to leave as Ebenezer returned to his books. The former exchanged forced pleasantries with Mr. Cratchit as he put his hat and coat back on. As he turned to leave, he stared back at his uncle one last time. “Merry Christmas, uncle.”

As the door squeaked closed, Mr. Cratchit could have sworn he faintly hear the old man whisper, “Merry Christmas,” in return, but was not sure of it and knew better than to ask.

That was the last time his nephew tried to invite the old man to Christmas dinner. The fates decided to honor Scrooge’s request and give him the Christmas gift of an uninterrupted sleep. Slowly, the years of pain corroded the man from the inside out and he died, years later than he should have. His nephew and Cratchit were the only ones at the wake. The nephew was particularly cold and distant, even for a burial: it was the first invitation to a funeral he had ever received.