It seems that everyone is too comfortable in letting only the young celebrate that which we have accepted as a general holiday. As we dressed in our finest hand made festive attire we brought about what could only be described as the stares of a thousand reanimated fleshly ghouls. Is it not a true jest that we, the leaders of society, are left as an exclusive class of our own destined to be deprived from all that is jovial? If not for the virtues of the bartenders then there would be no outlet for those who choose not to necessarily give up completely on our inner child. Furthermore, how decisively small minded must parents be to not encourage creative design in their children’s’ initial forte into the complexity of a social celebration and its unique expressionism. Has a holiday truly boiled down to a fifteen minute trip to the local general variety store for purely glutinous, overpriced, sucrose saturated, obesity inducing treats and inappropriate, Third World manufactured, unimaginative, marketing driven, bland, media based scabs of tissue resembling fabric. Not to mention, due to typical local weather constraints, not one of these costumes would protect our children from the almost scripted arrival of difficult colds and viruses that arrive every November like clockwork. As we were raised, our expression of this holiday is meant to be a trick for a treat so where do some get off in expecting so much while not outwardly expressing themselves at all. Plus, how has our culture become so exemplary with its Attention Deficit Disorder that we can not decide what holiday we are actually celebrating at one time? Even the most unrefined of us know that in terms of mathematical fractions, Christmas is disproportionately celebrated too soon. If all the members of our Western society were encouraged more in their creative nature then this would not only be a safer, more elegant holiday but it would also perform as the engine that builds our society’s dreams and aspirations for tomorrow. —Tennyson and Poe
This article appears in Nov 3-9, 2011.
so..you went to the masquerade ball as an a-hole then ..jolly good 🙂
http://images.cheezburger.com/completestor…
And let this be a good example of why you should NEVER let your kids eat their halloween candy before checking it first. Obviously, OB ate an acid-laced package of Rockets.
Holy fuck buddy, give it up.
TL:DR
Can anyone fill me in?
what’s that I hear? “fap fap fap”?
Yeah, thought so.
So all I got from this was…nothing.
“Is it not a true jest that we, the leaders of society, are left as an exclusive class of our own destined to be deprived from all that is jovial?”
This smacks of Monsieur although part of the bitch didn’t seen like his writing style. Maybe he got a ghost writer just for Hallowe’en
I’ll try to put it in terms that the OB might understand:
“….it is a tale, told by an IDIOT, full of sound and fury, signifying NOTHING!” – Shakespeare
Cool story, bro.
forte….do you mean foray? otherwise, it makes no sense.
glutinous….really? look it up.
oh, and you’re missing about 20 hyphens and apostrophes.
Grade: C- That’s probably generous, but it also stands for “crap”, which is appropriate.
Re-write it in 10 words or less, in plain (and properly used) English, and re-submit. Then maybe we can figure out what the hell you’re talking about.
…………WHAT???????? Shut up and eat the left over candy.
pfft.. bullshit.
YOU can’t do fractions.
avast and harrumph said it better than i ever could.
You see OP.. You can dress up a braying mule all you wish but at the end of the day, a jackass in (fake..) pearls is still a jackass. And even more to the point, those who know their pearls (or their jackasses) aren’t fooled by your over-abundance of pretentious windbaggery. For a second.
Just simply embarrassing.
so you don’t like that it’s become commercialized instead of us making our own costumes and candy to hand out…
just go buy and then get it over with, basically.
condescending bastard….
all it looks like is that you’re against NOT using half the dictionary to state a simple, concise point.
jerk.
your writing style sucks
This had to be the same dork that wrote A Peculiar Drop in the Bucket the other day. Don’t quit your day job, dork.
if it is the same person, they are improving…ever so slightly. dorklite perhaps snubiz?
OK – I’ll concede to dorklite! ha ha
Can’t wait to see what the OB writes for Christmas or Hanukkah.
i used to love that time of year, and christmas too. but thanks to big greedy fucking companies, the thrill has evaporated, faster than cum, on seb’s tongue. but really, do we need all those phoney,cheap fucking made costumes. you look out you door, and what do you see, a 100 pirates, and then there is iron man, and all the rest of the cheap knock off shit.
give me a good old bedsheet covered kid anyday, and they shall never want anymore candy that night. and we have easter, thanksgiving, give me a fucking break okay. time to get back to our seeds, and be creative, ot fucking lazy, in picking out something to don, on this night of ghouls, goblins, and all othings dead.
NECROPHILIA
I must say that I relished your reflections on Halloween but I thought, at the same time, that they were philosophically superficial. I enjoyed your rejection of the usual obvious observances of the occasion but it seems to me that you did not dig deep enough. My point is quite simple: what is REALLY going on here?
Walking about the neighborhood one sees skulls, gravestones and the like on the lawns. The thought gradually occurred that this is not simply a children’s lark but something else is in play. But what? It is in effect a celebration of necrophilia, the love of death.
In times past there was, of course, the Roman festival of Saturnalia – eat, drink and be merry
for tommorrow you die and all that. In other words, it was both a celebration and a recognition of the fact that the human being was, on the one hand, the only animal who had foreknowledge of the inevitable occurrence of his own death and, on the other, it was a celebration, if that’s the word, of his own existential contingency. Here now, gone tomorrow so to speak. But how is one to react to this existentially horrific knowledge? What is he to do?
What has happened, it seems to me, is that, with the withering of the Christian belief in some supernatural life after death, we have returned to face our inevitable terrestial mortality. There are, of course, various ways in which this might, at least temporarily, be avoided. Some seek material success, some seek the solace of philosophy, but others seek the Bacchanalian revels of the here and now. In other words, they celebrate Halloween. But the question then arises, “Do they know what they are doing?”
A pleasure as always.
Cheerio!
Saturnalia was the 12-day festival wasn’t it, MM?
you are lucky you don’t live in south caralina, when a 10 year old, pulled a 9 mil. on a woman, for joking about taking his candy. when cops got there, they also found his brother had a gun too. both were taken from their gramps place, and the kid, had a loaded mag with him, just not in gun. fucking scary, hey.sounds like some parts of this city, give me fucking candy bitch, or i’ll put a cap in your ass.
Inbred southerners. Probably related to the Royal Family.
Don’t encourage him PG!!!
i knew black dogs were the last to be adopted, but apparently black cats are evil ?! http://www.thestar.com/news/article/108046…
I knew a fella who worked at the pet shop that used to be Sco.Square. He said they used to get requests for black cats around Halloween. In the days leading up to the 31st they would refuse to adopt out any cat.
And then there’s this poor little moggie…
http://www.thestar.com/news/world/article/…
NECROPHILIA (CONT’D)
RSVPs
: Paingirl (Nov. 2, 10:10PM) – It varied from one day to twelve.
Anyway, the question remains as to how one confronts the horror of one’s own annihilation. (I think this would make for the mother of all Bitches!). Socrates, of course, was quite calm as he drank the poison after having been condemned to death for “corrupting the youth” (i.e. by his pedagogy of Socratic questioning: “What do you mean? How do you know?”). Reasoning “socratically” he concluded that since, being dead, one was no longer conscious of the fact, it was therefore irrational to fear death.
On the other hand, the famous writer Arthur Koestler (who, coincidentally, committed suicide together with the last of his numerous mistresses) claimed that one never feared the actual moment of death but rather the moment before the moment of death. One confronted, in wide-awake fashion, the horror of the end of one’s existence.
Maybe this post should be called “Necrophobia.”
A pleasure as always.
Cheerio!
As far as being a writer goes, you’re a very good typist.
Otherwise, Lord FancyPants of Harrumph-Upon-Dooshnozzle, your writing style is poop.
Don’t quit you day job working as a etc and so on close parenthesis.
ya, and I can’t imagine why people aren’t lining up to adopt this cutie….
http://www.freakingnews.com/Pictures/1/Cat…
I mean, he’s a little banged up… but no worse for wear…