Totally Dis-Custard!

I’ve got my big inflatable Jack-O-Lantern pumped up, my cassette of classic movie screams cued, and my otherwise unkempt lawn covered in cardboard tombstones. All I need is a few hundred trick or treaters and I’ll be in business.
But I’m worried.
My source at the Family Kloset says there’s been a big run on ghoul costumes, and that spells trouble.
It’s trouble for costume businesses because ghouls are a rather vaguely defined creature with no particular look. To pull it off all you need are ragged clothes, an ashen face, dark patches of skin under the eyes and around the mouth, and nervous, darting eyes. Sound familiar?
It’s trouble for homeowners who love this holiday because, strictly speaking, ghouls are the stay at home type of monster.

In past years I’ve seen plenty of the standard sorts of evil trick or treater, and I expect we’ll see quite a few of those beasts again this year.
You know the names: Freddie, from Nightmare on Elm Street, Jason wearing his goalie mask and carrying his machete, vampires and axe murderers, mummies and devils. No doubt the usual suspects will be coming up your driveway again, stalking with pride.
My own seven year old has opted for the classic blood sucker ensemble: black cape, white shirt, pointy fangs.
That’s the positive side of evil, as portrayed on Halloween: Freddie and Jason and Count Dracula and their close fiends are all aggressive, confident monsters. And the psychology of the child who chooses one of these ‘costumes’ is obvious: the best way to fight the fear, is to be the creature itself.
But the psychology of the ghoul is very different. Ghouls and their kind are timid, skulking creatures, flitting from shadow to shadow. They move in packs, feed on rotting bones.
Ghouls are afraid of everything – and the only thing you are saying when you choose to be a ghoul is, yes, I am afraid.
It’s all about the fear.

I’ve noticed the same trend on television.
If it worked in the election, the TV executives must have reasoned, it will work in the new Fall schedule.
Whatever your fear, they’ve got a show for you!
Are your parents divorced, always working, living in a trailer in Hurricane Land, and dating an alien? Then you’ll love Invasion.
Have you avoided swimming in the ocean since you first saw Jaws 30 years ago? We’re you traumatized by the death of a pet Poodle when you were seven? Have you been unable to speak with women since your sister showed certain baby pictures to her friends when you were twelve? Your show is Surface!
Then there’s Threshold, which also has ocean-based creatures I think, who turn into humanoid aliens, build mosques, import Chinese textiles, sneak illegal immigrants over the border, and are secretly buying up all the world’s dictionaries so they can pencil in a new definition for marriage.
And of course there’s Lost, where a group of average low-lifes are subjected to a veritable top ten list of modern day fears: plane crash, toxic time bombs, evil foreigners, child abduction, obsessive lovers. You name the fear, this island’s got it (or will in Season Two!) And if you still are considering dressing up as a ghoul this Halloween, any member of the Lost cast will do.
The one thing all these shows have in common is that they are not about one particular monster, disease, natural disaster or Al Qaeda operative, they are about them all.
It’s all about the fear!

I am reminded of the time my old pal Dave had a theme party for Halloween: everyone had to come dressed up as their favorite emotion.
At 7:30 the first guest arrived, wearing a red body suit, and with every other part of his body painted red.
“Oh great, great,” Dave said, “you’re anger: come on in.
At 7:35 another guest arrived, this time completely dressed in green, from head to toe.
“Welcome Mr. Jealousy,” Dave said excitedly, “come on in.”
At 7:40 the doorbell rang and when Dave answered the door there was a naked man sitting in a giant bowl, literally swimming in a thick, lumpy, pale yellow substance.
“You’re here for the party,” Dave asked, politely?
“Dats right” the man replied.
“The emotion party,” Dave asked, more specifically?
“Dat’s right” he said again, nodding enthusiastically.
“But I don’t get it,” Dave admitted, “what emotion are you supposed to be?”
“I am,” the man in the giant bowl answered, wiping some of the curds off his face, “I am totally dis custard.”

Happy Halloween!