DOUBLE DISPATCH #24/25
10-31-04:
I hate Halloween. There is no question about that. I'm not sure exactly why. For one thing, it comes in the fall not long after school starts and so I associate it with having to be somewhere I don't want to be and it's getting cold and dammit I didn't do the assignment. As I have subsequently learned, that's what life is about, so forget that part. Also, I like candy and everything, but not that damn much, because I've learned you can only have so many Butterfingers before you just want to pass out with the fan on full-blast. And I'm not really big on showing up at people's houses unannounced, unless I'm spying on them. AND I don't even believe slightly in ghosts, goblins, spooks, UFOs, monsters, etc. so the holiday has no emotional effect on me whatsoever. Plus, if I go out on Halloween night I'm afraid the zombies will get me.
What bothers me more than anything is the idea of dressing up. The act itself doesn't irritate me, but the amount of cutesy passion people put into it is deathly annoying. It conjures up images of the older ladies I wait on who dye their hair daily and have their exposed skin doused with makeup, and always make sure to say every word in a perfect Sunday drawl. It reminds me of people who are absolutely incapable of talking to children in a normal tone of voice. Halloween is basically people acting stupid and in public without being discredited, which would be fine except it's tied to some dumb tradition, and not only that, the people act with an enthusiasm that is positively grating.
Oh, there are exceptions. Some people who get into the spirit are the people you'd want to play dressup with any day, if you know whattamean. Babes, man.
I hate the idea of the whole thing being some kind of communion, and I really hate it when people act like you're a spoilsport for dressing as a woman or not dressing up at all. You cannot even imagine how much I hate that. I don't entirely know why, but it reaches the same nerve as when customers call me by my first name, clearly in order to touch me, or something, by acting like they care what my name is.
What I've come to realize is I hate when something is insanely obvious and yet some clown decides it needs to be stated, especially when they state it with clearly loaded intentions. So. On the computer again, eh? So you're on the internet right now? Reading that Dusty Nooks & Crannies thing again, I see. Let's take another idiotic holiday as an example. St. Patrick's Day. Basically, you're supposed to wear green. This put me in a bind. I did not want to wear green because of what day it was, for you see, I am a cool rebel and I've got a chip on my shoulder. Am I a mod or a rocker? No, I'm a mocker. However, I did not want to fucking hear about my attire from all the goddamn idiots who would turn it into some sick game. The fact that a lack of a certain color would entertain them bugs me less than the fact that I would even have to hear somebody stating a fact that it is impossible not to discern... someone is not participating in this moronic ritual.
And this relates to Halloween how? I don't know. That's the only answer I have. I just don't know. Leave me alone. Stop hurting me. Why are you kicking me???? But that's the feeling I have. On either holiday I would just be wishing it was any other time so people would just be acting normal, even if "normal" was obnoxious. The ritualistic display of the half-hearted macabre feels so trite to me it instills a sense of near-anger. Unless, again, it comes with a kind of sincerity that I do fortunately see in most kids who celebrate Halloween wholeheartedly, and most hot chix. So it's a holiday for kids and babes. But not me. Maybe I just don't think masks and costumes and candy are inherently fun, and maybe everybody getting into some kind of random spirit just feels wrong to me. In that case, why don't I hate Christmas? Well, for one thing, the presents are better, and not as sticky.
In conclusion, Halloween sucks even though there are some good shows on TV around then sometimes. I always simultaneously hailed and dreaded the end of October, the former for another idiotic tradition -- my birthday -- and the latter for trick-or-treating. Trick or treating is where you dress up in a stifling, stupid-looking costume and demand candy from strangers. Some of my costumes included Tom (of Tom & Jerry) when I was four and didn't hate Halloween yet, Garfield when I semi-hated it, a bunch of grapes when I had eventually come around to hating it. I was probably Batman one time too.
Specific incidents while trick-or-treating have not stayed with me, except the time I put on a sheet so I could go as a ghost but it was full of eyeholes and at every house I got a rock. And the time that an alien showed up and made my bike fly. But don't worry, I do have a story.
One time in elementary school I was lectured about class participation, which according to my report card had been utterly nil. These are the times that try men's souls, in third grade. I decided I would be more extracurricular, but that is sort of difficult when you're eight years old and it's not like there are key club meetings to attend. So the first flier that came across my desk was an invitation to a, yes, Halloween party being thrown by a girl I didn't like. She was such a slutty-looking third grader there were rumors she'd had sex with this guy in our class despite my geeky friend Adam's insistence that "that's impossible, their bodies aren't fully developed yet." For whatever reason, I decided I should go to this party. Did that make any sense? No, you're right, it didn't. I was stupid. Still am.
I suppose I wanted friends, acceptance, etc. But that doesn't gel with the next development.
My mom was the children's librarian at the time and she had concocted an inhumanely awkward costume for the Halloween celebrations during her Storytime sessions. She dressed as grapes. Yes. She had purple balloons attached to her so that -- yeah. How did I get talked into wearing this thing? I'm asking myself and not digging up anything satisfactory. I don't know that I will survive this anecdote without becoming an alcoholic.
The party was a painful event. I barely knew anybody. They were watching some gayass scary movie that was popular in 1992. The girl's dad was downing Budweisers by his pickup truck, there was a strobe light, Jefferson Starship was playing at top volume, and most of us just wandered around awkwardly. It was my early compensation for the fact that I never went to a dance in junior high or high school.
I was in a "tough" phase at the time. I had been in trouble several times over the school year for saying "damn," "hell," and "shit." I really liked saying "shit" and one time I heard somebody say "You know what? You're in my shit!!" when they were telling somebody off, so in a moment of boredom I wandered to some guy in a Dracula outfit and informed him that "You know what? You're in my shit!!!" He looked at me with the cold eyes of Nosferatu and said "You are shit" then wandered off.
Basically I got into conflicts with everybody I ran into, perhaps because I secretly wanted to pop the balloons that were making it impossible to transport myself from place to place. (Most of them didn't survive the evening anyway.) You cannot imagine how difficult it is to walk in that stupid costume. Somehow my spirit did not collapse.
Why did I go to the fucking party? Why was I ever born? Why do we scream at each other?
Anyway, it was kind of worth it for the incomprehensible retellings of the story that persisted in my life for years thereafter. My grape outfit is the single memory that lingers of that party for everyone there, perhaps because I have a feeling all of them are as ashamed as me of having even been there. What were we thinking in those days? Now I know how ex-hippies feel. In any case, the conversations were glorious, especially this one between Blonde Chick I Had a Crush On (who did not attend the party; smart girl) and Bespectacled Idiot.
"So how was the party?"
"It was okay. The music was lame."
"What was your costume?"
"I was Jason Voorhies. Hey, get this. Nathan went as a grape!"
"A what?"
"A grape! Nathan was dressed up like a grape! He was a grape!"
"A grape! What the hell, Nathan? Now I'll never have steaming glorious sex with you and feed your ego with unsolicited accolades!"
Then they abandoned me on the swingset and I was left with my thoughts. I can't stand it, I just can't stand it. I was so depressed I never moved from that spot and I starved to death and now I am undead and walking the earth. Happy Halloween, assholes. The end.
INTERMISSION.
This guy's name is Frank.
I did a good job.
11-2-04:
So election day is in a little over twenty-four hours at this point. Some people are saying this is the most important election of our lives. Some others are saying people should stay home because it doesn't matter who wins. Some are really concerned about what's going to happen next on The O.C.. And some are acting like overzealous morons because, hey, they've got nothing better to do.
You know what? Let them have their fun. I'm not going to make any bones about this much -- I have made my decision. John Kerry is not the ideal candidate, and I'm just as skeptical of the Democratic party as I am of the Republicans because they're all corrupt and they slept with all of your spouses and it sucks that we have to choose between two people who have nothing in common with most of us, except they're white (AHWA), but he seems okay, as in, better than Bush or Clinton or Gore or the other Bush. And if Bush wins... well, I don't like him and his fundamentalist sense of logic freaks me out, but it's not the end of the world.
What's going to matter about this election is the question of how votes are counted, an issue arguably of more lasting impact than the identity of the winner, because honestly, how far is John Kerry going to get in the public's favor with that nose of his? What we're approaching is, hopefully, an end to the electoral college. In case you haven't been paying attention, that's a good thing.
Another big issue is the illogical opposition to gay marraige. I don't think it will take too long for people to realize what a non-issue this is, what with there being a fucking war going on and Britney Spears retiring and everything. This is, amazingly, a key issue this year, so let's vote every single person who's turning this into a fight out of office. This means I'll probably not be voting for either major candidate for the House of Reps in my district, as they are both big on "family values" and they want that stupid constitutional amendment about "one man and one woman." When are these dumbasses gonna give up and go clubbing? Paraphasing Scott Thompson... I'm not saying they're gay, but they're going to need a lot of sex with men to get through this campaign!!
There's a big furor right now because Trey Parker and Matt Stone said people who don't know anything about politics shouldn't vote. So there you have it, kids. Saying things that are completely logical and obvious is now controversial.
In any case, I am excited. I missed the 2000 race by one year, so this is my first-ever presidential race, and it's my equivalent of the drinking binge to commemorate my 21st, something I missed out on what with my not drinking and all. Going to the polls to vote on Tuesday... even if it doesn't matter in the long run, that's my coming of age, dammit, and I wouldn't miss it for the world.
I wish everyone felt similarly, but I can't make you care about this, and I agree somewhat that nothing is less important to me than politics... and yet as a result of the fact that I think they're just a necessary evil, they're extremely important. I wish so much that I could vote my freedom-loving presidential candidate obsessed with separation of church and state and the first amendment, who would shut down all this FCC bullshit and the very idea of a constitutional ban of gay anything. As long as I'm wishing, I would really like it if Batman ran for president. Keeping the Riddler of the streets might sound like iffy domestic policy to you, but the history books will decide. For now, we'll take as much as we can get and hope for the best, which is part of what democracy is about... and in the end I think it's worth it. Whether you agree with me or not, I hope you vote because voting is just really damn cool, y'know. Now let's get rid of this Ashcroft idiot, eh? Alfred Pennyworth... now there's a secretary of state!
The election: A pictorial study by me, during rush hour in the car:
(It's a pole!!! Get it???)
Future forth,
n.
