Cantankerous Chicanery

Today we don’t really let our kids be themselves. Despite my resignations about them as detailed in one of my earlier posts, I do have a soft spot for the youngsters at times. After all, I did used to be one of them. But I see a gradual and eerie slow erosion of their independence.

We have arrived at the point in our culture in which we are not only deifying them, bu curiously and simultaneously cutting their legs out from under them. In our rush to protect them and provide for them (a noble intention, no doubt), we’ve stripped them of all individualism and self-sufficiency.

I, for one, can attest to this firsthand, as I was brought up in a bubble. I hold no illusions of teen angst where my life was so begotten with woe I had to gobble up every bit of merchandise Hot Topic had to offer, but I now, as a young adult, recall with amusement and some semblance of frustration how my caregivers kept me in a bubble at times. This has left me struggling when having to make decisions in my life and trying to assert my own sense of being.

Back in times past, kids were allowed to *gasp*……be themselves. Seat-belts and childproof anything wee unheard of, and tint tykes were allowed to wander the neighborhood by themselves. All of you out there were likely part of this generation, and you turned out fine, right? Living with a codependent or patriarchal/matriarchal parent can obviously leave lasting psychological problems.

Parents, just give your kids some breathing room. Just because you let them out of the house doesn’t mean the big bad wolf will come along and snatch them up. In fact, the myth of the pedophile sexual predator stranger lurking in the shadows is a bit of a myth. True, they’re out there, but kids are more likely to be molested by a close relative or friend of the family than some random person off the street. The true predator is at your family functions, not prowling the streets. Remember that.

What we’re seeing now is a generation that was raised on the computer, texting away on their cell phones or lost in their iPods, still relying on mommy and daddy well into college, fearful and anxious about the future as they ascend into maturity. Is this a mind frame we really want running the country in the future?

I’m not saying dump your 2-year-old out on the corner at noon and yelling out the car window, “Good luck!” As a mom or dad, be there for our kid, guide them, nurture them, love them. That’s your duty. Yet part of that is the hard lesson of letting go of them when the time is right and letting them be themselves. Human beings, by definition, are individual entities, uniquely alone and singular in their essence.

Kids understand a lot more than we give them credit for. If you let them do their own thing, they’ll suprise you in what they can produce. Let them draw, appreciate their creative fantasy worlds they construct, above all, just leave ‘em alone. The urge to protect them can get strong, of course, but you can’t fight the world. Part of life is dealing with conflict; it’s an ugly but definite area we all come up against. You can’t hold them back forever. If you quit helicoptering over them, they’ll learn to be assertive and do something with their life. That’s what you wanted for them after all, isn’t it?

And so here we come to the final blog post. Let us leave behind the bitterness, the complaints about the more negative aspects of Christmas, and humanity in general, and let us remember the true spirit of this holiday. Christmas is ultimately not about cheap gifts or expensive purchases or even snow or Santa Claus. This will be the redeeming finale in this saga about X-mas.

I think Christmas is a time of solemn contemplation of all that is beautiful and worthy in this world. It’s no coincidence it’s held in the winter: a shot of energetic mirth to counteract the frigid tundra that often descends over the landscape. Yet the snow and the freezing temperatures produce a sense of serene calm. The coldness outside causes to gather inside. You see the cycle?

Christmas is a also a time to honor the tiny pockets of purity left in today’s culture. That’s often why children are most associated with celebrating Christmas. We begin a life time of chasing after idealism, fantasizing about this mythical Santa Claus that doesn’t truly exist (sorry, probably shoulda put spoiler alerts for the younger audience members out there) but inspires us that someone out there not only cares wholeheartedly but will provide for us.

This holiday is also rich in symbols. Cookies, milk, mistletoe, trees, ornaments, snowmen. You’ll notice a lot of earth and glittery imagery pop up there. We seem to hearken back to our pagan roots as we briefly leave the urban landscape behind and reconnect with nature, if only for a few seconds. We see Christmas as a luminescent expression of the brightest elements in the human condition, thus we are attracted to the more aesthetically appealing goods and decorations around us.

I used to be a hardened cynic who saw Christmas as a sham and a lie people would tell themselves, and I must confess at times I still tread back to this line of thinking. Really, with all we’ve witnessed in just this decade (and let’s not even mention past transgressions), who could blame me? Yet as I grow older and become aware of the vast and complex scale of the universe, I see a twinge of hope in the world, and embrace Christmas’ ideals with a cautious bliss. We may have lost sight of some of its themes but I think it’s still in there.

It’s a representation of the best in people; their kindness, their perseverance, our desire to help each other and provide one another company in this all-too-often unfortunately harsh, cold world. Christmas is a celebration of all that is pure and good in the world, and let’s not forget that. The gits are only a symbol of our generosity to those we care about; not an end in and of themselves.

So I ask you to get off this computer. Leave this site and go talk to someone you really feel a connection with. Go hang out with your local relatives and tolerate them despite their shortcomings. Don’t forget the people that are there for you. Remember to drink up, exchange presents, and above all, be merry. Happy Christmas to all out there.

Have we entirely forgotten the notion of Christmas? The supposed ideals of concern for humanity and goodwill are shams, being pushed to the side in names of greed and consumeris. Leave it to the mouth-breathing masses to see nothing but purchases, coupons, and sales as the calling card of this holiday.

We live in a consumeristic society in which material purchases can have become our lanuage. Far from actually expressing our esteem in a person in words or gestures, we now judge one another’s value in terms of how expensive or great a gift is. What once was simply a symbolic representation that we are keeping a person in mind has become the end goal in itself.

That video above, people, is the raw and ugly truth of humanity as we become absorbed in bland capitalist culture. As someone who works in retail for the season, I see how absorbed and transformed people have become hrough their purchases. It measures who they are. When they can’t get what they want or the store is out or heaven forbid it’s more expensive than they thought, the smile fades and the their true ugly internal self comes out.

Driving around and getting shopping done is making us miserable. It’s an aggervation to see urban congestion in its full glory and the stores have become a veritable warzone. The clerks look about as thrilled as POWs and the customers are experiencing both momentary poverty after seeing their wallets wiped out buying for every third removed cousin under the sun. Consequently, this makes the entire populace miserable. Doesn’t this go against the whole cheerful attitude of Christmas?

We love to tell ourselves lies about the more lofty and grand intentions of mankind, while sweepin our more base instincts under the rug. Can we just be honest now and admit we’re all scrounging change to buy tacky toys for nephews we really don’t care for in the first place? Where have the original intentions of this holiday headed? Do we have to put a price on everything? And can’t we see a return to simple living after seeing the ultimate effects of this sory rat race?

For those of you wondering where I’ve been lately, I’ve been laid up with a cold. The aches and pains of my body, the constant stream of mucus that flows from my nose, the absolute lack of appetite my body refuses…..all of these are not pleasant symptoms to bear.

As I sit here and rest, coughing every few minutes, I find it curious that in this day and age we still haven’t been able to cure the common cold. We’ve eradicated polio, the black plague no longer looms over our collective conciousness, and we’ve even begun to clone certain species. But a tiny little mole of bacteria can shut down our body in one fell swoop?

Oh, the curious vagarities of Western civilization. We always have our eye on the giant picture while neglecting the tiniest of details. As I’m sure most of you know, having the flu is no fun. The constant pounding migraines, the physical fatigue that descends over the body like a slow malaise, all of it just amounts to a terrible experience.

I’ve been doped up all week on medicine trying to push through finals and work, and now I rest here an exhausted man. It’s crazy how when the mechanics of your biology chnages you become a diffeent person. I have less energy than I used to; I have to push down food just to not starve for the day.

I’ve been researching what exactly causes the common cold and my scholarly analysis has yielded some interesting results. Contrary to popular belief, it isn’t cold weather at all that causes its namesake. Rather, it’s an airborne pathogen that spreads via human contact. The reason it’s more widespread in the winter season is people have a tendency to gather in close proximities indoors (to escape the bitter chill, of course).

Ah, what a parable about human life, isn’t it? Any interaction with others is fraught with complete and utter danger. We’d like to get close to one another but who knows what the other person is carrying? It plays into our fear of strangers; contamination, contagion, the hurt that can come when we reach out to another.

Maybe humans are just a plague unto themselves. Not only will handshakes and swappin’ spits do one harm, but bacteria can persist on areas we commonly touch like doorknobs, phones, and common surfaces. I attend a college campus crawling with young adults, and so the risk of catching a disease is increased for those at crowded public sectors.

This could also serve as a wake-up call in terms of raising hygenic awareness. Far be it for me to seem like some sort of germopobic snob, but I have seen a stunning decline in health maintenance in the last few years. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve seen people exit restrooms without ever washing their hands. Or how people just freely sneeze into the wind, as if to share their entrails with the rest of us. I appreciate the communal sentiment, but could you please cover your mouth next time as a courtesy, dear sir?

All in all, I think getting a cold is a sober reminder that as men and women, we are mortal. We envison as gods, blazing ahead in our careers, taking charge of our personal lives, and yet a few microscopic strands of malevolent viruses can bring us to our knees (or just laying on our back, because the latter would be an uncomfortable position in ill spirits). It’s a reminder that not all is good out there, that in this universe there is bad and evil and circumstances that will absolutely sink your spirits.

But perhaps there is a silver lining. When one gets a cold, one conceivably will never encounter that specific subset ever again. Getting the flu makes us tougher, prepares us for the dull ravagement of our bones that is yet to come. As Nietzsche once said, “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.”

And so we are almost coming to the end of the 2000s. All I can say as I prepare to throw my hat into the sky (preferably not my chic fedora) is thank God. Without a doubt, living from 2000-2009 could best be described in metaphorical terms as “attempting to make love to a porcupine”.

Many commentators, Rick Bayan and Time among them, have labeled this ad a depressing decade. As someone already predisposed to pessimism, I have to concur. It was unfortunate that this batch of years was the one in which I rose to an ascension of maturity. What we were assaulted with was a movement of dumbing down the culture so bad it made everyone in the 80s look like they were reading Proust and listening to Phillip Glass.

Obviously, the big thing to come out of this decade has been the recession that has been occurring towards the end of it. As a result of banks pinching every last penny they had, politicians and big-time CEOs swindling the entire public, and an economy that looked about as coherent as David Lynch’s dream journal, the average middle-class in the suburbs had to bear the brunt of everyone else’s incompetency and corruption (as usual).

With all the monetary doom and gloom towards the later years, let’s not forget the beginning and middle years, which were no picnic fest themselves. At first rap rock blared across the radio, assaulting us with angsty twentysomethings who felt they could best channel their rage in rhymes that would make MC Hammer do a double take, all over cheesy guitars and hackneyed music. As nu-metal slowly died off, with everyone by then catching on that maybe Fred Durst was a bit of a d-bag, we then got treated to the wonderful musical stylings of emo.

Teenagers became even more self-involved. They took hours getting ready, putting on the right skinny jeans and picking the ugliest graphic shirt to go stand against the wall and puff away on cigarettes. Meanwhile, this country drowns in debt and terrorists oversees are planning to kill us. But hey, Animal Collective;s coming out with a new album on the 20th! Better not too excited, though, lest you appear enthusiastic and thus “uncool”.

Hardcore punk and even grunge to some extent had some sense of social awareness. What we’re left now is to gaze at narcissism in its absolutely most naked and raw form. These are people that would make shoegazers gag. The hip-hop as well is still promoting a hardcore, tough image, but with more of an idea on conspicuous consumption.

Whereas N.W.A.  and Tupac railed against the white man, ringtone rap nowadays has no such conception of that whatsoever. All rebellious tendencies have been wiped away to sell the black public an image of poppin’ bottles in nightclubs. They brag not about being from the hod, but now moving into the Hamptons. What was once the voice of the downtrodden and an effort to unite the community has now devolved into empty call-and-response chants, objectification of women, glorifying alcohol and substance abuse, and asserting one’s own sexual prowess. Fantastic. While rappers like Jim Jones and Young Money flash dollar bills at the screen, the rest of us are getting our homes foreclosed because we’ve lost our jobs. Never before has there such a wide chasm between popular entertainment and the reality of everyday life.

The political situation has seen the rise of extremist partisanship. It’s a trend I’ve been noting after Bush getting sworn into office. Now just simply disagreeing on a few minor points is not enough if an elected official isn’t in the same party as you; you have to denounce him as Satan himself and call for his head. There is no more center anymore, and we rely less on facts and reasonng and more on talking points and soundites. Anti-war protestors on college campuses call Bush an incompetent dolt who only cares about oil; small business owners label Obama a socialist who plans to take away our health care and leave us all to die before a government committee.

In case this all isn’t enough to make you want to jump off a cliff, don’t forget about the rise of technology. A lot of young adults can;t remember a time before computers. The amount of close friends the average person has is down; instead we’re all attracted to the bright glow of the monitor, to update our Facebook profiles and watch YouTube videos. What this is is leading to is a diminishment in face-to-face contact.

Am I biting the hand that feeds me? A bit. I’m not proposing we all turn into Tyler Durdens and go live in the woods. But use this thing sparingly. Go outside and talk to some people (maybe even meet some new people…*gasp*).

Coming back to politics, and the increasing irrationality around us, we’ve seen the rise of terrorims. Bloodthristy religious fanatics that want to see us gone and are willing to put their own lives on the line to do this. These are scary times, people. These aren’t just Soviet cyborgs we can mock with caricatures in action movies. Scary, scary stuff.

I grew up with a cynical disposition. I was noted as the sunniest or most uplifting child. While at first others chided me for looking on the more dark and dour aspects of life, time has proven me right. I witnessed 9/11 happen on the TV when I was a child and I personally experienced Hurricane Katrina a few years back. In between then, I’ve seen way too public shootings, even more wrestlers die, and a whole host of political and celebrity sex and financial scandals.

Yet, perhaps I, and all of us, are looking down too much on the 2000s. We got some interesting stuff out of it. Like the improvement of video games. All in all, we’re still standing. The big events that grab the headlines occur, but people still go about their business. In terms of my personal life, the 2000s were a time of personal growth, self-actualization, and partying.

Let’s just hope the next decade is a little better.

So not even Tiger Woods is perfect. The character of Lex Luthor in the animated DVD Superman: Doomsdayhad an interesting quote: “There comes a time when even gods must die.” And so we see that in action. Not even the perennial athlete, with his picture-perfect smile, seemingly squeaky-clean behavior, million-dollar endorsements, and preppy clothes is safe from the fatal flaws and vices of the normal human being.

The public seems to crave and demand this sort of stuff. Perhaps it’s a subconscious sort of catharsis; we feel so intimidated by the success and flawlessness of someone like Tiger Woods we intrude into their privacy to get some affirmation that they, like us, are mere mortals subject to the whims of the public.

Never before in society have there has been such a weird love-hate relationship with those in the public eye. We simultaneously revere and exalt athletes and celebrities for their physical acumen and charm, and yet part of is jealous, envious that we don’t lead the lifestyle that we do. And so we savor every trashy tabloid news item about them that we can.

May I be the first one to step up and ask, “Who gives a crap?” Similar to Bill Clinton’s trysts or Michael Phelp’s herb habit, I’m relatively sure this doesn’t affect about 99.99999% of the population. So he cheated on his wife. Big deal. That’s between him and his family. All unconcerned parties need to get out of this business.

For the armchair moralists out there who look down on him, let me ask you: how would you like it if cameras and paparazzi were there to record every single waking moment of your life? If they documented every single error you made and inflamed it for the world to gawk it? Shit wold get pretty stressful, wouldn’t it?

Far from those at the top breathing down our necks, now the roles have reversed in an odd manner….now the average citizen is attempting to break down the boundaries of privacy to lap up every single negative detail of their erstwhile idols. It’s almost like a bizarre anti-Orwellianism.

With Thanksgiving having come and gone, what exactly does this holiday represent? The common image of Thanksgiving includes feasts involving turkey, cranberries, the sloth resulting from this, family get-togethers, and typically waves of gratitude and humility.

It is common wisdom that Thanksgiving evolved from an occurrence between the pilgrims, the initial European settlers of this land, and the Native Americans, the indigenous inhabitants of this land. They shared food as a means of cooperation and for the settlers to show their graciousness over the Indians helping them out as good neighbors.

Fast forward a few years later and the colonists have expressed their appreciation by taking over their land, raping their women, and essentially quarantining them. Way to go white people. Now it’s become a hallmark of American hypocrisy, to gluttonously stuff our face with fat and unhealthy goods while lounging around and watching football. The “thanks” often expressed have become a merely empty social custom.

The time often spent with one’s family has been remarked upon as being an awkward situation at best, and an unbearable agony at worst. These people that you are related to through blood/lineage but otherwise have absolutely nothing in common with are forced to be your companions for twenty hour long hours. Fun times, indeed.

But, maybe I’m tipping my hand and being a bit too biter. I am the Angry Cynic, after all. Thanksgiving can be a time to reflect upon one’s blessings. Perhaps we shouldn’t be so negative, but take the values of this holiday at face value: too often we complain about what we don’t have, what’s bothering us, our grievances and limitations. Instead, we should reflect on what we do have, the fact that we are alive and still standing, and that at least we have food and companions to dine with.

Falcon Heene and his family have become the new American parable. Far from the squeaky-clean nuclear family who worked hard and engaged in thrift to make ends meet, now we have attention-starved narcissists who will do anything to get the spotlight.

The latest Bubble Boy fiasco is a symptom of a decaying culture that is rotten at the core. We have become so numb to stuff like Big Brother and Survivor we think all of us can become celebrities, for absolutely no good reason. We have fulfilled the prophecy of the avant-garde classic The Man With the Camera: now we all live in a fishbowl, gingerly watching each other’s movements, hoping for our 15 nanoseconds of fame.

And so now they’re under prosecution for filing a false crime. Serves them right. It’s become a cliche, but I really do feel the kid is suffering in all of this. To grow up with such d-bag parents and not be recognized as their offspring with tender loving care, but instead just a plot so they can get another network show.

And you know the sad thing? They would get ratings because some people out there would actually bother to watch these clowns. We have become a nation of helpless and paralyzed spectators, wandering to whatever train-wreck spectacle dazzles our attention.

Consider the metaphor; we were literally distracted by bright lights and a giant structure. While Barack Obama was making a historic visit down here at UNO, the rest of the country was caught up in one family’s bid for notoriety. Not to toot my own horn, but it was a historic moment where a politician actually bothered to visit here post-Katrina to address our area, and instead, what is the rest of the country enamored with? Some annoying former reality show participant who has seen his obscure notion of recognition go up in flames, with one last desperate bid for the cameras.

Like I said, this is becoming a symptom of a larger disease of our times. We’re so used to instantaneous gratification, we seem to have forgotten the human element that previously surrounded us. People will regularly degrade themselves in YouTube videos just to get hits. It seems we no longer reward behavior which is intelligent, upstanding, or creative. Now we value and champion whoever is the most outrageous. It’s like a bizarre inversion of social customs: whoever most violates our notions of ethics and civility gets the cash reward. All this angry cynic has to say is: huh?

Granted, we’ve never been the most enlightened batch of chumps to inherit this rock we call Earth. But where exactly did this shift take place? When exactly did we stop curbing alcohol abuse and start glorifying it in popular music? Since when has parenting become less a duty and more a burdensome distraction? Since when have kids become accessories to make us feel better, complement our egos, or just as bargaining incentives? For God’s sakes, why are we so interested in what Britney Spears will screw up at next but won’t even say”hi” to one another as we pass the hallways?

Surely Bubble Boy’s family would love that I’m discussing them right now (after all, that’s what they’re after, isn’t it?). But I feel the one, true Bubble Boy will soon come to claim his crown:

While this may be a little late, I consider it still worth posting. So the authorities finally caught up with Roman Polanksi, eh? Where to start, where to start. It’s such a complex issue and there’s so many sides to look at it from.

On one hand, it’s about time. The guy knows he did something wrong (in the eyes of the law anyway). Why else would he be running around, evading the authorities? To seek asulym in other countries reeks of his knowledge of his guilt and just trying to escape his just desserts.

And all the Hollywood bigwigs rising to his defense makes me sick. They’r eonly defeding him because he’s a personal friend. It pisses me off that he may get off just based on name value alone. If this was you or I in this situation, we’d go to jail, no questions asked.

Those who say there isn’t a class divide in this country are incredibly blind. If you make it in the film or entertainment industry, you can skirt past the moral laws set up in this country. Just because Roman Polanki can toss oyt money to hire a high-rpcied lawyer, he may stand a (however small) chance of beating the rap.

Let’s not forget what he’s accused of; having sex with a 13-year old girl, and this after drugging her up. That’s pretty f’ed-up and reprehensible, no matter how you really look at it.

On the other hand, as a strong libertarian, I believe in the individual’s personal rights, and so Polanski is justified in this account. What he does is his personal business. It should not be up for anyone to infringe on his personal life.

As well, the girl who originally was hought to have been taken advantage of has forgiven Polanski. She admitted it was consenual, that she willingly took drugs, and no longer seeks to prosecute him. If she doesn’t desire vengeance, what business do the police have tracking him down and arresting him?

What I’m getting at here is if the so-called victim doesn’t care, what use is there in pursuing it? In the eyes of the the law, there is no crime. What this quite honestly sounds like to me is a wild party that got way out of hand.

Let’s cut the guy a break. He’s really been through enough. He went through the Holocaust, watched his wife get murdered in the notorious Manson Family ordeal, and now he’s got this on his hands. It seems like the moral contingency out there has ahd it out for him for whatever reason (probably for releasing thoughtful and provoking films), and were just waiing to seize him, regardless of whatever shenaningans or trickery they had to use.

It’s interesting to note the link between his art and his life. In Repulsion, we witnessed a possibly schizophrenic young lady have a psychological breakdown. The themes included were paranoia, a suffocating sense of being trapped, and the breakdown of a rational, objective view of reality.

In fact, many of Polanki’s films reflect a cynical, pessismistic view of human nature and an impending sense of doom or oblivion for the protagonists at large. It becomes tempting to link this with his up-and-down crazy personal life.

So, I’m somewhat torn. Part of me feels he is no more special than anyone else and he must obey the law and serve his time. At other times I feel he is his own individual and should be left alone, and hasn’t erred too seriously. Who knows? Time shal tell.

Well, hello, dear readers, and a happy Halloween to all of you. I trust you are preparing your costumes, bobbing for apples (in that case, how are you reading this on a computer screen…..nevermnd that), or simply viewing horrendous horror movie suntil you’re positively numbed to all the bloodshed and gore on the screen.

I thought I’d put my usual ceberal spin and take a critical look at Halloween. What is it and why do we celebrate it? What does it mean to us? What does it represent?

Halloween, interestingly, originally evolved from the festival of Samhain. Samhain, for those unaware, was said to mark the end of the harvest season. Pagan cultures believed the line seperating this world from the supernatural became thin on this date, and it became a way to honor and revere the dead.

And so from this comes our modern version of the holiday, Halloween. To me, Halloween seems to be a celebration of the darker side of life. This is when you see ghouls, zombies, ghosts, monsters, and movie killers roam the streets. It becomes perfectly acceptable to adorn yourself with fake blood oozing from your mouth and to attend so-called haunted houses with the purpose of being frightened. Such activities on any other date of the year would otherwise be regarded with astonishment.

I’ve always seen it as a way to conquer and tame those more macarbe instincts that rest in us. We purposely make Dracula and Frankenstein cartoonish so as to sanitize them and remove their original morbid properties. But these more gloomy traits have always been with us. They’ve had a long-standing existance and foothold in popular culture; whether it be through horror movies, death metal, or gothic fiction, we’ve always found a need to express the more replulsing aspects of ourselves.

Similar to the original Gothic ethos, though, we find joy and merriment in the lurid. Halloween becomes almost a way to mock and satirize such grim details. We find mirth and merrimen in the night. Kids skip through the streets with their parent’s hand and go door to door, seeking sweet and sugary treats to placate their interests.

The tradition of putting on masks also speaks to our desire to take on a different persna. Through these elaborate costumes, we can become someone else or express aspecs of our being that would otherwise be shunned. It’s the old tradition of dressing up to hide and become something different. How are these costumes any different from the costumes we wear in our daily lives?

All Saints’ Day, a holiday inexplicably linked with Halloween, is also a day to remember the fallen heroes of the church. Halloween is primarily interested in death. It’s a way to honor and revere the deceased. As frightening as that prospect may be, we must keep in our memories those who have previously walked the earth with us, as a sign of respect.

The fragility of the human body and our own incoming mortal fate are also themes of Halloween. At the backbone of the pumpkins and bats is a concern with our perishment. Skeletons are a common motif in Halloween; once again, we see our simultaneous phobia of and curious interest in death. It is something that will happen to us all one day, and Halloween becomes a way to appraoch it, recognize it, and try to understand it—-at least for one day out of the year.

Fear becomes the dominant mood of Halloween. Whereas the rest of the year, we keep our anxiety to ourself, on Halloween we try to air it out as a means of releasing it. WE seek to become scared; we are almost on a quest to witness the most disturbing and horrific sights as a simple thrill. The elixir of emotion, the adrenaline of transgessiveness, the sublime quality of monsters.

One aspect of Halloween that almost has this world-weary cynic and horror afficianado in shambles is its commercialization. sure, some may say Halloween has always had a bit of hookiness to it, but recently it’s really come out. As usual, businesses will jump on anything and merchandise it to hell (pun intended). We see tacky costumes being bought and sold at local stores, television channels now link all of our shows to Halloween in whatever sort of contrived way they can, and kids are being treated to “safe” haunted houses and censored horror movies. It’s enough to make even the most black-hearted vampire want to jump on a hayride outta here.

Yet, it seems that, ironiclly enough, we are witnessin the death of Halloween itself (no doubt from a maniacal, lumbering osychi with a butcher knife). Maybe it was just me when I was a kid, but there truly was something magical in the air when Halloween rolled around. You’d go door-to-door, ringing bells, and at the end of the night settle down to rupture your stomach on all sorts of candy (after having your parents check it for razor baldes….which is a hoax, btw, and more proof of suburbanite moral panic). Friday the 13th and Nightmare on Elm Street would air on all the channels.

This year it seems like barely anybody, from all my friends to random strangers I see on the street, seem barely interested in celebrating or even acknoledging that Halloween is coming. Perhaps people are too wrapped up in themselves and their own business, or they’re truly frightened by the more mysterious aspects of this holiday, or perhaps they’ve grown up and are pessimistic and disillusioned to the whole process, having forget the revrie in being swept up in this sense of fantasia as when we were younger.

Now, as I grow older, and as the world turns, it seems less and less children are romaing the neighborhood. AMC might throw on a half-assed version of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre remake. There’s nary even a roll of toilet paper to be found in the trees. What has happened to Halloween? Have we forgotten its mischevious, wild, and recklessly fun spirit? Is this a symptom of a larger disease of a decaying and alienated, square culture? As a personal fan of Halloween, as someone who used to collect Fangoria and faithfully watch Michael Myer’s every move as a kid, I’d like to think not.

Perhaps Halloween is a corpse now. Like all movie monsters, however, it will suddenly lift its hand up from its grave, ready to strike again in the next sequel.