It's Christmas. Year after year, same old Christmas. Stupid, ugly Christmas.
So one would think that we would appreciate Mr. Scrooge, the one fictional character who hates Christmas as much as we do.
But one would be wrong. Because as much as we hate Christmas, we hate Charles Dickens more.
Maybe it was that pesky high school teacher who forced us to read "Great Expectations". Maybe it's the lame boredom of "David Copperfield". Maybe it's "Oliver!", the musical.
Whatever the case is, we want nothing to do with Dickens. We want nothing to do with Scrooge.
And there are more reasons why we can't appreciate old Ebenezer. He comes around. He learns to appreciate Christmas. And he is not a Jew.
Bah, humbug indeed.