The Commercialization of Fear: How Halloween Became Big Business

Halloween—once a night to dance with shadows, now a full-blown commercial circus of plastic junk. Let’s call it what it is: the holiday’s been drained of its primal fear and replaced by a sea of tacky inflatables and pumpkin spice overload. If you’re a grump like me, it’s more frustrating than frightening.

Remember when Halloween actually meant something? A night of deep reflection where we dared to face our mortality? Yeah, me neither—because today, it’s all about slapping together the sexiest cat costume faster than you can say “wax candle.” It’s become a parade of overpriced polyester and Instagram-ready decor.

But fear not, fellow curmudgeons. If you squint past the pumpkin-scented nonsense, you might still catch a glimpse of what Halloween used to be. So grab something much stronger than a pumpkin spice latte and let’s reclaim this night.

Step 1: Ditch the Hype

Commercialism’s got us drowning in aisles of plastic junk. Skeleton dog toys? Toddlers in slutty witch costumes? Hard pass. Let’s be real—Halloween is about staring into the abyss, not wading through a sea of cheap plastic.

Step 2: Get Creative (or Don’t)

Skip the tacky store-bought costumes. Either make your own from scratch or just don’t bother. Throw on an old black hoodie and call it a day. Halloween’s about personal darkness, not outshining your neighbors with Pinterest fails.

Step 3: Restore the Fear

Enough with the Pinterest-perfect parties. Bring back the true spirit—ghost stories that actually creep you out, bonfires, and enough gloom to make you question all your life choices. Forget the candy corn; we’re here to confront the void.

Step 4: Share the Darkness, Not the FOMO

Halloween isn’t just a night for solo grumpiness (though that’s totally fine). It’s a reminder that we’re all facing the same big questions—life, death, fear. Share stories, make weird art, and embrace the fact that we’re all doomed together.

So here’s to the real Halloween, my fellow misanthropes: a night to reflect, rebel, and celebrate the void without buying into the hype. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a pumpkin to carve and some doom metal to blast.