The Halloween Massacre – Counting The Cost Of Costumes

Recently, it was Halloween. For the longest time, this was a festival only Americans cared about, but at some stage, it infected the British as well. I blame the tsunami of US TV that saturates our channels, as well as the rise of social networking as a tool for showing off costumes.

But what is the real cost of this horrific cultural absorption? Considering some people still claim reading Harry Potter is youthful devil worship, surely the arrival of Halloween is nothing short of a naked blood-splattered forest orgy? With children!!!!!

With this tabloid-tastic attitude in mind, I autopsied this year’s Halloween, all the time thinking of its effect on society and our ongoing disintegration into an immigrant-stained hell. Did I glean any insights? Read on.

No Trick, No Treat, No Fun

First: Trick-or-treating, the iconic Halloween occupation, in which small children dress up as tiny goblins and terrorise their neighbours. This remains one of the most exciting forms of socially acceptable blackmail around. For what is this devil-sport, except for a simple threat: “Give me sweeties, or I throw my faeces at your house!”?

For Devon and Cornwall, enough was enough. This year, they deployed this scheme, designed specifically to stop law-abiding residents being terorrised by midgets with sheets on their heads. Because no trick-or-treater would dream of looking at this sign and thinking “You know, they probably deserve to have their house TP’d more than anyone…”

But the fuzz just didn’t take it far enough, in my book. The masks and sheets of Halloween costumes are basically the same as the balaclavas worn by the Classic Terrorist, so there must be ample justification for locking up anyone who over-steps the mark. I’m sure terrorism legislation empowers us to forego the formality of a trial and just waterboard them until they scream for their mummy and promise to be good.

Chugging The Magic Potion

On the other side of the coin from terrorist childhood innocence, Halloween is now an excuse for massive alcohol consumption. Because, in binge-drinkin’ Britain, pretty much any occasion will degenerate into Stella-sodden debauchery.

As (bad) luck would have it, I spent the evening in a university hall of residence and saw many cases of foolish students tearing down the very fabric of our society with their tomfoolery. Some case studies follow:

• Witness Super Mario, in a doorway, furiously kissing some girl in an indeterminate costume. (Although the Mario outfit was pretty good.)
• Seethe as stupidity leads to the fire alarm being set off!
• Gasp as some delinquent with a laundry basket on his head grabs the back of the resultant fire engine and rides it along for a block or so!
• Tut at the number of people who have just popped some devil horns on as a so-called “costume”, then gone out to get pissed!
• Despair as childhood cartoon icons are turned into ‘Sexy’ variants of themselves, by young harlots clearly desperate to undermine the moral underpinnings of British… something or other. Is now a good time for jokes about unwanted pregnancy?

So, Our Country goes to hell in a chav’s handbag, and Halloween clearly only accelerating its journey into the cess pit. I look forward to the Daily Mail expose coming soon, and I’ll even let them use some of my material if they like. Let’s do it!

[NB: Although almost all the above is slightly sarcastic, I would like to make a serious note: There is a special place in hell reserved for whoever vomited in one of our bathroom sinks and just left it there all day and all night, stinking and drying out into orangey-brown chunks. Seriously. A very special place in hell, with enormous vibrating spikes for your crevices. Thank you.]