TRAVIS WEAGANT
<Co-Editor-in-Chief>
I am a Hallowe’en Grinch. I don’t know when it happened, but I suspect it was when I stopped getting a bag full of free candy every year. With the material profitability of the day eliminated, I could see no other way to derive a net benefit from dressing strangely. Yes, I’ve turned participation in a supposedly enjoyable tradition into a business decision. This makes me a colossal party pooper, but that’s what Grinches are.
You may now commence your psychoanalysis of my Grinchiness. Perhaps I feel above putting on a costume. Perhaps I subconsciously fear losing my identity and don’t like pretending to be something else. Or maybe the unrelenting taunts from a motley crew of miniature zombies, mimes, and Darth Vaders over my insufficiently lifelike Harry Potter costume in Grade 7 have left me scarred. It could be, perhaps, that my shoes are too tight; it could be my head isn’t screwed on just right. Truth be told, I haven’t a clue which it is, nor do I care, since these are simply reasons to dismiss my Grinchy tendencies as irrational or pitiable.
I’m not going to try to convince you to hate Hallowe’en with me. I would never try to convince an Android user to buy an iPhone, an Irishman to drink scotch, or a Republican to re-elect the President. I’d sooner dig a hole to China. And I promise not to come down from Mount Crumpet and steal everyone’s lewd costumes. However, in the faint hope that there’s some of you out there who see things as unreasonably as I do, here’s two things to do this month that aren’t so distasteful.
1. La Toussaint (November 1)
Thanksgiving, like the common law, is exclusively Anglophone in origin, since those who invented it came from Great Britain. However, a similar tradition with Catholic roots exists on the European continent that made its way to those colonies of a more Latin persuasion, coloured, of course, by pre-existing local cultures. The French Toussaint means “All Saints,” the Christian feast honouring – you guessed it – all of the saints.
Though the feast is religious in origin, there are many traditions connected to All Saints’ Day that go far beyond formal worship. In France, for example, extended families traditionally gather for a large meal at midday, much like the North American Thanksgiving. Afterward, however, these families proceed to local cemeteries to clean and care for the tombstones and graves of their deceased relatives. Honouring one’s ancestors on All Saints’ Day is also a Spanish tradition, and travelled to the New World during the colonial era.
I have been told that in Mexico, that on el Día de los Muertos (also November 1), families bring the deceased’s favourite food and drink to cemeteries and consume it there to celebrate the ancestor’s life. I also understand that many a dead relative was a tequila aficionado, and that these rituals tend to involve Mexican families getting proper sloshed, dancing, and generally making all of our wildest stereotypes come true. This year, try that.
2. The Presidential Election (November 6)
I watched about 5 minutes of the Presidential debates. I saw two accomplished, respectable, and intelligent men stoop far beneath their level. I saw the media (mainstream and otherwise) latch onto supposed “gaffes” and try to make something of them, to ends not entirely known. I saw an entire country forget that it has a legislative branch. I saw a lot of Canadians that think they know what’s best for the United States of America. Some of them probably do, but that’s not the point.
The point is that following this campaign involves being attacked 24 hours a day, from all directions, with balls-to-the-wall bullshit. I don’t listen to the candidates because I don’t trust that anything written by a wide-eyed twenty-something staffer working on his resumé in his spare time will somehow become the official position of the President of the United States once he’s elected. I don’t listen to the Twitter and Facebook chatter because it’s mind numbing.
On November 6, the entire world, candidates and all, will shut up for a few blissful hours while the Constitution’s wheels turn, just like they have since 1789. Then, the next morning, Republicans will either declare that the communists have finally won, or Democrats will declare that women should forthwith kiss their constitutional rights goodbye. Of course, neither will be true. It’s just the smell of bullshit in the morning; smells like… sour grapes.
Americans have a fascinating and complex way of electing their government. So take the few hours of peace and watch it in action, maybe at the JCR. This year, try that.
3. The Unreasonable Man’s Alternative Hallowe’en (November 14)
On Wednesdays at 5PM, something incredible happens. Legal and Lit rolls a magical cart off of the elevator and into the Junior Common Room. It’s called a beer machine. Standing before this tap, thirsty Ozzies can enjoy a brief pause from learning the law and learn beer instead. Beer is the most difficult of subjects, but, with enough practice, it can be mastered in three years.
On November 14, I propose that instead of putting on costumes, seeking out free candy, partying downtown, or doing anything spooky at all, you all join me for an alternative Hallowe’en where we don’t do any of those things and learn beer instead. Bring your drink tickets (they’re blue and have a picture of a balding French Canadian on them) and good conversation, and we’ll have ourselves a grand old time. Or, since it seems that Legal and Lit has rejected the alternative Hallowe’en theme (full disclosure: I never actually submitted the idea) and substituted a Trivia Night (which actually sounds a lot cooler), you could, you know, just come for that. See you there.