It is that time of year again. The snow is falling. People are shopping. I am searching desperately for something to do besides study for my exams. And so my mind wanders. One of the several trillion renditions of A Christmas Carol is on the TV. Actually, the TV is off, but if I had the energy and attention span to flip for a while I am confident I would find one. It has got me thinking. Aside from Jacob Marley, Scrooge is visited by three ghosts. The ghost of Christmas past, the ghost of Christmas present, and the ghost of Christmas future. These three ghosts are by no means equal. I mean, the ghost of Christmas past has time travel going for him. That is pretty cool. He can only go back and forth between Christmas Eves each year, but it is still a pretty happening time to be able to visit. The ghost of Christmas present, which sounds suspiciously like someone shot Santa, is essentially just a peeping tom. He can walk around now and see what’s going on now. I can do that! And I can do it on Easter too! Then there’s the ghost of Christmas future. THE GRIM REAPER! So this guy (Okay, usually death is depicted as a woman, but I like to picture the Ingmar Bergman or Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey death) walks around, ripping souls out of bodies and carting them off to the great beyond, and keeps the wealthy from making poor holiday decisions. Is it just me, or does this strike you as a sort of community service thing? I bet death was running a little late, he was behind on his quota, and he thought, Hey, why not just stop off at the old folks home, get caught up, right? Is it his fault the assisted living center is right next to the orphanage? And now look at him. Volunteering with the elderly like a road side litterer. Where is the justice?
I am getting away from myself. We were talking equality. The ghost of Christmas past, the ghost of Christmas Present, and the Ghost of Christmas future (who, for the sake of brevity shall be called Doc Brown, Dead Santa, and the Reaper) are by no means equal. Doc Brown can screw around with the past, and the Reaper gets to chose who lives and dies! All dead Santa can do is sneak around invisible and look in windows. It isn’t even like he’s going to see anything good, because it is Christmas Eve and the kids are all up. Not to mention he has got from, what, two to three AM to do his business, and you just know he’s going to run into a dozen Doc Browns showing futuristic space men what things were like and at least a few Reaper chaperoned cavemen. Picture that scene, a Dead Santa, an old guy, an astronaut, Doc Brown, a cave man, and the grim reaper all staring though the window during your Christmas party. That would spoil the mood. (If you actually know what the ghosts were supposed to look like it would be even creepier. Doc Brown would be replaced with a muscle-bound midget and Dead Santa would be some fat guy in a bathrobe with no shirt and no shoes.)