The twisted celebration that Halloween has become boldly invites us to go overboard, and many people oblige.
That’s how we get the annual Zombie Pub Crawl in Minneapolis and that one macabre house in your neighborhood where the front lawn looks like a mortuary supply truck crashed into Dracula’s estate auction.
Hey, that would be a good theme for next year!
At our house, we’ve adopted the self-limiting tactic of declaring that the place shall not be adorned with any Halloween decoration that can’t go up the day of the actual event, and can’t come down the next day. That has the wonderful effect of lightening the work load and reducing Hallow-stress.
As for the creepiness factor, I’m far too squeamish to decorate with skulls split by bloody hatchets and mutilated corpses. My dear and clever wife, who shares my feelings about gore, hit upon the idea one year that eyeballs are sufficiently creepy without being totally repulsive.
Thus was born the Eyeball House.
All in all, aside from some exotic and (usually) invisible internal organs, I would say eyeballs are the body part that best represents Halloween. They generate a certain quality of undefined menace. Yet they are completely approachable – not totally horrible, like feet, or inexplicable, like ears.
As the proud lifelong owner of two completely natural eyeballs, I’m delighted to be able to collect new ones for our annual display. And yes, I’m always on the look out.
And while there’s no element of political commentary in this bit of seasonal decoration, whenever I go out to the street to see the window eyeballs looking back at me, the surveillance society feels very real.
I know we’ll get a lot of Ninja Turtles and Disney Princesses this year, the kid who gets two candy bars from me will be dressed as Edward Snowden.
How do you decorate for Halloween?