When Halloween was invented by Druids in the year 1492, pilgrims brought them to America to burn for being creepy. Unfortunately, we had no proper kindling, and so we had to use pumpkins. Every year, we re-enact this because we are a sick, sick culture.
All right, that's not the real reason. The real reason involves the standard European hodge-podge of odd festivals that somehow culminated in college students dressed as Darth Vader doing keg stands while being cheered on by naughty vampires. Let's see you explain that.
I normally don't like mentioning holidays this early – it makes me feel like one of those horrible stores that begin playing "White Christmas" sometime in March. But this year I told myself to start with Halloween early, because otherwise I end up with the same costume I do every year – King Sooper's Bag Man.
The instinct to love costumes is a kind of parabola, which, if I remember my math correctly, is depicted by my graph, which I made all by myself. It should be somewhere in a corner, unless my editors decided for some reason that third-grade work has no place in this paper, in which case I really must question the employment of many of my fellow columnists. Zing! Just kidding guys, I only wanted a piece of the mudslinging.
So, Halloween costumes! The best Halloween costumes tap into deep, primal fears and hilariously tragic attempts to recreate deep, primal fears. Dracula is scary. Fat, asthmatic Dracula is hi-larious! A good scary costume for those folks would be an aging politician. Brr. Shivers.
If you're uncreative but hot, it really doesn't matter what you wear. Just tear holes in some regular clothes. Then it's just a matter of adding blood for a hot zombie or body glitter for a hot pixie thing. Or body glitter and blood for hot, zombie pixie action.
Of course, if you're out of your mind, you can pretty much duct tape anything you want to yourself and call it a costume. Vines, pizza boxes, headlights, pipes, really, anything you find in your garage. These are quite popular because if you wander into an art museum, someone may attempt to buy you.
My personal favorite is to dress as a small child. Then I can go trick-or-treating without getting dirty looks from the half-my-age people handing out free candy. And really, isn't mooching the true meaning of Halloween?
Johnathan Kastner is a senior English major. His column runs every Thursday in Verve. He really deeply admires his fellow columnists, and would never say anything to hurt their stupid feelings.