I’m sick of vampires. Absolutely fucking sick and tired of vampires. Don’t misunderstand me, I think the concept of vampires is sick and Bram Stoker’s Dracula is fucking rad. But the last year and a half has produced an absolute frenzy over Transylvania’s emigrants — Twilight and TruBlood have officially piqued public interest and a slew of imitators have followed suit. Unfortunately, most seem to be poorly executed.

As it was alluded to on Saturday, OCTOBERFEAST has chosen a different monster for this year’s festivities. THE FEAST is first going to deliver an extra-garlic pizza to Pop Culture’s house and drive a stake through his blackened heart when he opens the front door. Then the true October-beast will look to sky and scream victoriously.

Today marks the first day of OCTOBERFEAST’s Werewolf Trilogy — a musical homage to the underappreciated world of wolfmen. [Note: I am purposefully ignoring the upcoming Wolfman flick with Benicio Del Toro, the Underworld series, and many other misrepresentations. Just roll with me on this one.]

The first installment of the Werewolf Trilogy is Metallica’s Of Wolf and Man. While I may resemble one when I go shirtless, I don’t have the benefit of knowing what it is that goes through the head of a werewolf. However, James Hetfield did us all the favor of penning lyrics to address such a curiosity. An excerpt:

Off through the new day’s mist I run.
Off from the new day’s mist I have come.
I hunt –
Therefore I am.
Harvest the land,
Taking of the fallen lamb.

Off through the new day’s mist I run.
Off from the new day’s mist I have come.
We shift –
Pulsing with the earth.
Company we keep,
Roaming the land while you sleep.

Shape shift – nose to the wind.
Shape shift – feeling I’ve been.
Move swift, all senses clean.
Earth’s gift – back to the meaning of life.

Bright is the moon high in starlight.
Chill is the air cold as steel tonight.
We shift –
Call of the wild.
Fear in your eyes,
It’s later than you realized.

Don’t try to tell me that Of Wolf and Man is about some return to the primal essence of humanity, the shedding away of all the worthless constructs with which we deal on a daily basis. It isn’t. The song is about a goddamn werewolf. Told from the werewolf’s perspective.

Again, I’ve never turned into a werewolf. But listen to the beginning of this track and try to tell me this isn’t a perfect transformation theme. First the guitar comes in, then the snare drum and floor tom start pounding away, and before you know it a fucking wolfman starts talking. Seriously, close your eyes and listen — do you seriously imagine anyone other than this guy talking?

Don’t take my word for it, watch the video below — Of Wolf and Man, performed (sloppily) in 1993. Be on the lookout for  Lars’ beard and a terribly cheesy  Newsted-howl.

File this one under drive-by posting.

I’m just stopping here to once again give props to George Zapata. After writing this entry in which I heaped all sorts of (well-deserved) praise, the aspiring artist emailed me to express his gratitude. I giggled to myself, thinking it ridiculous that someone so talented would be so appreciative of a lowly blogger recognizing the obvious.

And then I came to my senses. I had to ask,  “Hey, do you do commissions?”

In a matter of weeks Zapata was able to take my idea, provide me with rough sketches, make the appropriate alterations and send out the final copy. Due in no small part to his professionalism and skill, I am now the proud owner of a sick Morrison-era JLA sketch. Additionally, the price was very reasonable and I stand behind every dollar spent.

If I can figure out a way to scan it, I  will proudly  showcase this piece of original art. `Tis gorgeous.

But more importantly, make sure you check out GZapata for yourself.

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As you know by now, OCTOBERFEAST is a celebration of the depraved, socially-subversive and utterly vile aspects of society. It is the allotted time in which we can openly revel in horrors otherwise reserved for the solace of an empty house. Casting aside the societal-pressures by which they are bound, every individual is encouraged to use OCTOBERFEAST to rejoice in the most delightfully despicable of activities.

So it only stands to reason that OCTOBERFEAST takes a detour into the terrifying world of professional wrestling.

In and of itself, pro-wrestling is fucking horrifying. The premise behind this hillbilly-phenomenon is that a bunch of oiled up steroid-junkies pretend to engage in an athletic event. In the process, there are entrances with theme music and pyrotechnics, fights with ladders, and a total disregard for referee safety. It’s madness, total madness. What type of person would actually watch this?

Of this already strange, bizarre world, the persona that best fits into the OCTOBERFEAST menu is inarguably the Undertaker. The Undertaker, as a serious athlete, is a supernatural being who defies that with which he is most fascinated: death. When Undertaker debuted he was accompanied by the also cleverly-named Paul Bearer, a pale slob who carried around an urn which contained the wrestler’s power! Rounding out the Undertaker’s macabre personality are his signature finishing moves, the choke slam and tombstone piledriver.

Even if the Undertaker wasn’t a kinky ghoul, his trademark matches more than qualify him for an unpaid internship position at the OCTOBERFEAST. The Casket Match sees two combatants squaring off until one manages to seal the other within a coffin. There’s the  Buried Alive Match, in which the Undertaker beats ass and then  uses the  training from his first career as he buries you alive (how morbid!). And last but not least is the Hell in a Cell Match — the wrestlers fight within a modified steel cage and act in such a manner as to give the impressionable youth plenty of bad ideas.

The idea of an actual servant of the Devil receiving state sanction to compete in athletic league is ludicrous — that’s why it fits into OCTOBERFEAST. I haven’t watched pro-wrestling in years, but I hope the Undertaker is still busy burying opponents and conjuring evil spectres.

For your amusement — an Undertaker match from 1990:

OCTOBERFEAST has shown a more merciful side today, granting access to an entry that had been already been cut twice. During the drawing of the initial list, this film came up but was then excised in favor of its predecessor. The second draft of the OCTOBERFEAST lineup saw the formation of the WEREWOLF TRILOGY (we’ll get there in a few days) and so the movie was scrapped in the hopes of avoiding redundancy.

But here we are — in the midst of an OCTOBERFEAST miracle! Maybe it’s because I’m a sucker for Jason Bateman or maybe it’s because it is the best film of 1987, but there’s no way I could not present Teen Wolf Too!

Written by Jeph Loeb (yes, the same guy from yesterday), Teen Wolf Too is about a teenager who is struggling academically, socially and athletically. His life is in the toilet and he just wishes there were a way to take a stand. Then, he finds out he’s a werewolf and everything gets better — just like it would in real life.

Teen Wolf Too is pretty much the exact same movie as Teen Wolf — except instead of Michael J. Fox doing his best to be the alpha-dog of the high school basketball team, we have Jason Bateman (playing his cousin) doing his best to succeed on the college boxing team. Purely speculating, I’m sure that Michael J. Fox was asked back for Too but preferred to spend two years preparing to finish the McFly role in Back to the Future II & III. It’s called method acting, duh.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining about this at all — in my book, two 1980’s flicks about teenage wolfmen is definitely better than one. This movie has all sorts of great shit to keep you watching: boxing on par with any scene from Rocky, dance sequences, and the always wonderful Mark Holton. I imagine that if I were to pound a few brews, put on a Gary Numan record and try to shirtlessly write a movie, the result would be similar to Teen Wolf Too.

If you’re not too proud to embrace the cheese that got America through the Cold War, watch Teen Wolf Too.

Friday — this, of course, means time to drink beer.

Unfortunately, for the past two days I have felt terrible. I don’t usually get sick, so when I do I like to think that the ship has finally hit the gigantic fuckin’ iceberg. Maybe I’ve got Swine Flu. Or polio. Or something.

Probably not though. What I should do is relax, go to bed early and get ready to feel better in the morning. But, it’s Friday and that means I have to fulfill a promise I made to you to consume alcohol and report on it.

Regardless of what alcoholics tell you, drinking when you’re sick will not make you feel better. You may smile a bit a more, but after passing out you will wake up feeling worse than drunk and sick — this is synergy in action. So it was with some trepidation that I approached the taking of my weekly drink.

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In case I haven’t told you, comic books are one of my favorite things in the world. Without exaggeration, I would argue that comics are just as artful as any other medium and provide a generally unrivaled integration of image and word. There is no experience quite like flipping through the pages of a good comic, becoming drawn in by paneled wonder and storytelling mastery.

With such a zealous appreciation, it only stands to reason that OCTOBERFEAST would include a serving of sequential art. I contemplated this decision for some time, trying to figure which funny-book would make the cut. At first, I though about including the Halloween-beatdown of Hollis Mason from Watchmen, but then realized that would be opening a can of worms with which I’m not quite ready to deal. Then, I considered submitting a review of the best/worst comic book Halloween costumes but that wasn’t really what I wanted to go for either.

And then it hit me. Hard. I felt like a fucking buffoon for not thinking of it right from the get-go:

The Long Halloween

One of the many collaborations between Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale, The Long Halloween is a thirteen-issue miniseries that follows Gotham City’s Dark Knight for a full calendar year. Starting and finishing on Halloween, the series sees a mysterious killer known only as Holiday claiming his victims on…well, holidays. The defenders of Gotham do their best to prevent the monthly massacres, with mixed results. At conclusion of The Long Halloween, Batman (and the reader) comes to the realization that justice may not always manifest in easily recognizable forms.

It is Loeb’s storytelling that truly sets up The Long Halloween for success. This is Jeph Loeb in his prime — crafting a murder mystery that keeps the reader guessing until the very end (and even after). Taking place in the formative years of his crime fighting career, Loeb takes Bruce Wayne through the rigors of doling out cans of whoop-ass to Gotham’s underworld. With the help of Captain Gordon and District Attorney Dent, Batman combats a mob empire comprised of the Falcone, Viti, Maroni, Gazzo, Sullivan, and Skeevers families. It is a dense tale full of interconnection, but Loeb pulls it off.

Loeb’s written story is only surpassed by Tim Sale’s illustrative execution. With the main players of the Rogues Gallery at his disposal, Sale gets the opportunity to put his signature stamp on much of the Bat-Universe. While I typically equate Sale’s art with the aesthetics of cartoons/animation, I think his performance in The Long Halloween  steps into  more realistic territory. Looking back on it, I remember being particularly struck by the use of shadows and negative space. Before being the best part of the lackluster Heroes, Tim Sale routinely rocked comics — The Long Halloween is undeniable evidence.

Even if you’re too much of a dingbat to check out The Long Halloween, you have probably still enjoyed its main themes and plot. Christopher Nolan’s Batman Begins and The Dark Knight both liberally borrow from The Long Halloween:

A young Bruce Wayne trying to get his footing as Batman? – Yup.

A mob war threatening to take over Gotham City? – Yup.

James Gordon, a rare example of excellence in the GCPD, rising through the ranks?  -Yup.

“I believe in Harvey Dent”? — Yup.

Batman, Gordon and Harvey Dent working together…until a horrible accident disfigures Dent and changes the nature of the relationship? – You bet your ass.

The Long Halloween is a meaty text. But it’s a worthwhile one. As a limited series featuring only the most recognizable figures of the Batman mythos, The Long Halloween is accessible to even the most casual of fans.

For the sake of OCTOBERFEAST, and to make yourself a better human being, give it a read.

Just one of the many scenes from which "The Dark Knight" & "Batman Begins" took a cue.

With little over two weeks until Hallow’s Eve, we had all better start breathing in that sweet autumn air. After all, it is mid-October — but unlike Daryl Palumbo, I’m not ranting `bout most early May. I’m here to enjoy the OCTOBERFEAST for everything it’s worth (which, in case you haven’t realized, is quite a bit).

For some reason, I’ve always associated Glassjaw’s Ape Dos Mil with autumn. It is in all likelihood that the lyrical reference to October is responsible for the forming of this mental connection. However, the Literature major and overzealous nerd within compels me to further dissect Ape Dos Mil. In doing so, I’ve discovered  that the track is the musical manifestation of the spirit of autumn.

Yeah, it’s over.

You can bet in mid-October,

I will still be ranting ’bout early May.

Yeah he’s a winner,

He’s a goddamn sinner.

While he dines I’m on the wrong side of the day.

And I said, “I don’t understand why I’m fumbling after.”

You’re the reason I cannot forget this season

Or the letter when she first referred to eight.

And I said…

The lyrics suggest that the remorseful crooner is longing for the days of early May, when the relationship was still new and exciting. At first listen, it may seem as though the words being penned address the literal calendar month and perhaps the true beginnings of love. But it can be no coincidence that the described romance is worthwhile and flourishing in May, which just happens to be the quintessential month of spring — the season best known for ushering in a wholesale sense of life and vitality.

Ape Dos Mil’s narrator tells us that he is now well into mid-October and unable to stop dwelling on the beauty that was his relationship only five short months previously. On the other hand, this linear development also coincides with the sharp thematic contrast of spring and autumn. Just as the leaves are falling and the Earth reclaims all life, Ape Dos Mil paints the portrait of man in decay, the approaching of a personal winter.

While given the story from the perspective of the man who pulled the shortest straw, I think there is something to the notion that the narrator’s  enemy is succeeding because of his ability to transgress. In the aforementioned verse, the narrator pits himself against a rival lover, describing him as both a winner and a goddamn sinner. It is Daryl Palumbo’s delivery of these lyrics that make the listener feel absolute unease, maybe even disgust. How can this new figure succeed while sinning, falling far from the set standards of the ideal? The narrator’s frustration seeps out, noting  that he cannot even stand a chance against the most mundane actions of his former love’s latest beau; “While he dines I’m on the wrong side of the day.”

Taking a step back, it seems as though the protagonist of Ape Dos Mil is simply a spring type of guy — fixated on those times in which the new, refreshing and lively were generated. However, the goddamn sinner of the track is autumn — cast with the role of bringing about decay and eventual death. In truth, neither of these characters can be applauded or derided for their actions, as they as just fulfilling their prescribed duties. Similarly, the female love interest should not be disregarded as a flake or whore. Instead, she can be understood as the  cyclical seasons, the recognition that a changing of the guard must occur.

If you don’t buy into any of the above, don’t worry. You can still enjoy Ape Dos Mil as a somber tale of love that just happens to sound better on an October evening.

Should you find yourself not enjoying the song, at least watch the video without the sound. It’s got creepy clowns, depictions of strange sexual practices and voyeurism — perfectly fitting into OCTOBERFEAST!

I take pride in the fact that OCTOBERFEAST is an event in which everyone can participate. The FEAST doesn’t discriminate — any fool daring enough to step into its camp grounds is eagerly swallowed alive. Male, female, gay, straight, blind, elderly, mentally challenged, Chinese, Native American, rich or poor — OCTOBERFEAST consumes all.

Today, a less fortunate contingent of the revelers is being represented. I know in my heart of hearts that all you sorry sons of bitches without an adequate allowance know about this treat…

KRACKEL

The KRACKEL is a bar of chocolate enveloping tasty, crispy wafers of rice. First and foremost, the candy is dang delectable. Also, the rice in the bar produce a fun *crunch* with each bite. Yeah, it’s the *crunch* that really defines the KRACKEL, setting it apart from all other Halloween goodies.

Except the much more beloved & recognizable Crunch bar. Oh shit.

Think about it — have you ever heard somebody say, “Damn, I could really go for a KRACKEL right now”? Invariably, the answer is “No.” If anyone craved such a chocolate delectable, she/he would go buy a Nestle Crunch.

Thinking on it now, I’m not even sure that I’ve ever seen a full-bar version of the Poor Man’s Crunch. Could it be possible that Mr. Hershey is so strapped for cash that he can only produce fun-size KRACKEL? Truthfully, I can only recall eating the candy when it was part of my Trick-or-Treating loot or included in a candy grab-bag.

Maybe I’ve mischaracterized the KRACKEL as an outcast; the sad, pimple-faced fat kid crying in the corner of the middle school dance while macho CRUNCH bumpz-n-grindz with Kit Kat. Instead, maybe our crispy friend is just misunderstood; he’s the artistic weirdo who just needs to be given a chance to flourish.

I say fuck the `ole standards. This year, go out of your way to eat a KRACKEL. You don’t need to become politically aware or start recycling or donate time to a charity or help out at a soup kitchen…if you eat a KRACKEL before the end of OCTOBERFEAST you are guaranteed a spot in Heaven.

Oh, and remember not to wolf it down. Savor the candy bar, as demonstrated in the video below:

As intimated in previous post, OCTOBERFEAST is going to get pretty damn metal. Since its inception heavy metal has been identified as sharing genetic material with Halloween — a predilection for the occult, the subversion of the innocent and a profound respect for Satan. Of the metal family tree, the cousin most closely related to Hallow’s Eve would have to be DEATH METAL!

Hailing from the uber-metal Sweden, Opeth are goddamn masters of heavy metal. The mindchild of Mikael Akerfeldt, Opeth can alternatively play the heaviest shit imaginable and ballads that will make you weep. Unlike a lot of metal acts, Akerfeldt’s growls are balanced with a crooning sweet enough to lullaby a baby to sleep. With stylistic versatility, musical virtuosity and a knack for tune-crafting, Opeth are in a league of their own.

Yes, these Swedish rockers are capable of holding their own against the songwriters of most genres. But this is OCTOBERFEAST, so I’m going to focus in on Opeth’s ability to conjure the Devil. In fact, I’m fairly certain that The Grand Conjuration is about just such a divinely-defiant act.

The Grand Conjuration is the seventh track of Ghost Reveries, a loose concept album [arguably] about one man’s emotional distress after killing his own mother.  This track in particular  seems to be some sort of an appeal to the Dark Lord himself.

The hands of Satan
Assembling his flock.
Pale horse rider
Scouring the earth.

Whispered conjuration –
A belief takes form.
Choking hand tapping
The veins in your throat.

His orders in your mouth
A decree for domination.
Beneath the tides of wisdom
Spins the undertow of hate.

I’m not 100% sure what the above lyrics mean, but I know that they’re fucking evil. I can just picture a dark priest from a Stephen King novel reciting those lines as he prepares to sacrifice a school bus of Girl Scouts.

As an added bonus, the music video for The Grand Conjuration is a perfect treat for any OCTOBERFEAST evening. In addition to the standard “dudes in an empty warehouse” motif, the video features trash-can fires, rats, and interrogations conducted by a creep who looks like a  cross between Zorro and Frank Miller’s The Spirit (yes — Frank Miller’s, not Will Eisner’s).

Also, because Gene Hoglan was touring with Opeth at the time he makes an appearance. An automatic +5 points.

I’m not sure if the Devil listens to music. But if He does, I’d like to think He’s an Opeth fan.

OCTOBERFEAST just wouldn’t be the same without the lovely recess that is Columbus Day.

Personally, I couldn’t care less about Christopher Columbus himself. Yeah, his travels really paved the way for European exploration of the New World. I guess that’s pretty cool. But it’s kind of hard to overlook the raping/pillaging/plundering aspects of his genocide. So in that regard, he’s pretty lame.

More important than the Christopher Columbus is the holiday bearing his name. I am a firm believer that human beings need days off. Without the occasional three-day weekend, society is apt to implode. If the only way to officially cancel a workday is to replace it with a bogus holiday, then by all means go for it.

The usefulness of Columbus Day reveals itself it many different ways. For college students, this first three-day weekend of the semester provides an excuse to travel back home, attempt a road trip or just enjoy an extra day of binge drinking.

For sports fans, Columbus Day provides an otherwise absent opportunity to nurse post-game hangovers. This is  an appreciated prospect, considering that the MLB playoffs are in full-swing, NFL action is heating up, the NHL season is beginning and the NBA preseason is looking to come to a close.

And for many more, Columbus Day is a chance to enjoy autumn. With a full day’s freedom, it is a lot easier to plan a trip to an apple orchard or pumpkin patch. Living in the suburbs, it seems to me that this is the day that the neighbors start tossing scarecrows and goofy Halloween decorations onto their front porches and lawns. I’m not sure if agricultural competitions are the October-thing-to-do everywhere, but residents of the greater Boston region use this day to get their asses to Topsfield.

Truthfully, I always try to use the holiday as an extra day of rest. While I always find OCTOBERFEAST to be the  most pleasurable of all seasons, it is also generally when I’m at my busiest. Today I made a point to lounge around, eating too much food and trying to catch up on some television I’ve been missing; I can’t say that the combination of caramel apples and Californication is a bad one. I haven’t been terribly productive — and this is a design with which I am comfortable.

In the case that you had to work today, I offer my sympathies. At the very least you can take comfort in the fact that we’re well on our way to Halloween.

Oh, and just in case you’re unfamiliar with the exploits of Christopher Columbus – the video below is a hard-hitting documentary about the explorer.