The Top 10 Halloween Myths

By contributing writer Kevin Chang

October 31^st, another great holiday rich in tradition. You know, the one where we stake and burn alive innocents and outsiders in the name of outdated Puritan beliefs and an irrational fear of the unknown. But seriously, if it wasn’t those fucking witches, someone’s going to have to explain all these warts on my face. I already know how I got the ones on my genitals.

Pointy-hat-wearing menaces aside, distill what was once a grand experiment in social justice through hundreds of years of American history and what you’ll get may surprise you: an excuse to get drunk and dress up like sluts. It most certainly is not insensitive—we’re drinking in memory of all those bitches in Salem who got tied to rocks and thrown into the river. Try that toast at your next Halloween party. Two people will laugh, and those people will be your best friends forever.

It seems I’m stuck on holiday detail again, but since I haven’t written a worthwhile article since July 4^th, I think I’ll live. Seriously though, watch out for my upcoming Arbor Day article, it’s unbe-leave-able! Also, it’s a lot harder to make a pun out of the word deciduous than you would imagine, but I made it happen.

Halloween as a holiday has always been surrounded by myths, most of which have been told and retold by pilgrims who, as we know, were notoriously bad at the game “Telephone.” Consequently, a lot of the so-called truths passed down just don’t stand up to a rigorous scientific and historical examination, also known as Wikipedia.

So, in the time-honored tradition of all college humor sites everywhere, and also because I have the imagination of an autistic child, I present to you a list of…

The Top 10 Halloween Myths

A myth perpetuated by racists and the colorblind, there is no basis for wild accusations against the poor black cat. Whenever I see a black cat, I don’t think it’s unlucky. In fact, I see a chance to hone my already extensive hunting skills and possibly snag a delicious meal for the near future. It’s not a sin because animals don’t have feelings.

Is there a girl in any of your classes who wears Spoon sweatshirts, ankle-hugger jeans, and square Elvis Costello glasses? Do you want to fuck her while she wears those glasses? There’s an easier way to get into her pants than by casually dropping shitty indie bands she’s probably already heard of and hates because more than 0 people know about them.

Watch the movie, memorize the words to the opening song, and invite her over to your place to watch it. When the film begins, sing along for a couple verses, stop embarrassedly, look shyly at her and say, “I’m sorry, I always ruin the movie for everyone else because I know all the words.”

Tip: Ankle-hugger jeans are hard to take off in a hurry; show a little consideration whilst removing them.

If you don’t think haunted houses are scary anymore, you aren’t drunk enough. Drinking before going to a haunted house is a guaranteed way to piss your pants—either laughing at your friend who punched the guy dressed as a ghost who jumped out at you or out of complete, total, jaw-clenching fear. The house will furnish the unrealistic props and the guys who scare the shit out of people for a living; your drunken ADD will furnish the atmosphere and the child-like response to badly-dressed monsters.

Try again, faggot.

They gave Christian Bale the power to make millions of dollars at the box office while expressing just one emotion for a two-hour film: barely suppressed rage. What are you, retarded? He’s the goddamn Batman.

Think about something you love doing and do fairly often, like playing basketball with friends or having sex (we’ll stretch the usage of the phrase “fairly often”). Now imagine a douchebag dressed up like Scooby-Doo drunkenly running onto the court and shoving people around. Or someone dressed in a giant Squidward costume spilling beer all over you while you were trying to (lovingly) fuck the shit out of some indie girl.

Goths hate Halloween. It makes a total mockery of everything they believe in, like Satan, and drawing pentagrams in their own blood.

If I knew America wanted to see two hours of random torture scenes linked together by some tenuous “life lesson” bullshit, I’d have videotaped myself practicing autoerotic asphyxiation to a Bernstein Bears book and made myself a hit series years ago.

It’s funny, girls do this thing where they dress and act like total whores and don’t follow through. Weird.

You think razor blades and needles are cheap? I don’t have that kind of money to waste on hurting children. Besides, I’m so much bigger and smarter than kids are. Do you think I’d really need anything other than my fist to do enough damage to put them in a mental institution/my basement? I could totally fuck a 9-year-old’s shit up.

It is. Doubly so if you’re dressed up like A.C. Slater from Saved by the Bell.

For Salem.