Chris Bickford

All Hallow’s, The Day of the Dead, The Night of the Living Dead, Samhain, All Soul’s Eve…Celebrations for those who have lived and died on this earth are as old as human memory. Whether they ascend to heaven, descend into hell, live in limbo among the shadows of our earthly existence, or are reborn into new bodies, the fate of those who have gone before us will always remain a mystery to the living. Their absence haunts us; evidence of their existence lives on in written records, artifacts, individual and cultural memories…We are who we are because of those who have lived, died, fought, discovered, loved, given birth, raised families, developed languages, sciences, religions, and paved the way of human development for us, their descendants. Yet, they are all, without exception, gone. Dead. Vanished. Never to be upon this earth again. Never to be heard from, spoken to, touched, loved again.

Or are they?

We may ponder the question until we also die; we may build religions and cults around our feeble guesses as to what happens to the dead; we can conduct scientific experiments, though they are of little use beyond the world of energy and matter. But there is one thing for sure, the dead live on in the souls of the living. Perhaps only as mere memory, myth, history, the accumulation of culture; or perhaps in a more supernatural collective consciousness. Regardless of how, in what form, or to what degree, something lingers; and it is only fitting that we celebrate that “lingering” in ritual and festivity.

My very first memory is of Halloween. I was three years old, dressed in a Superman costume with a plastic pumpkin, standing at the top of the stairs urging my mom to hurry up and change my younger brother’s diapers so she could take me trick-or-treating. For a child, Halloween is certainly the most numinous of all holidays. And not just for the candy or the cool costumes; there is something strange and magical that children see in this night–a magic that is often lost as we enter adulthood and are confronted with the fact that the ancient holy holiday has become little more than an excuse for kids to eat sugar, and young adults to dress up like vampires and whores, get drunk, and with any luck, get laid.

But perhaps this is not so far from the point of Halloween after all. To dance, drink, eat, indulge in the pleasures of the flesh: is this not what the dead would have us do to celebrate them? Perhaps by donning strange costumes–of ghosts, skeletons, vampires, angels–we are inviting the dead to live through us, just one night; to experience all the magic and sensuousness of life. And perhaps we too enter into their world, just a little, by losing ourselves in the “little deaths” of intoxication and abandonment. And so the ancient idea of a night where the space between the living and dead is open and permeable, if only briefly…

Well, it’s a nice idea at least, and without a doubt a great excuse for a party.

This year I spent Halloween in New York City, where the living and dead are stacked high one on top of the other. I walked the famous Halloween Parade, New York’s only night-time parade; and followed the crowd to the after party at Webster Hall (ahem), I mean “Webster Hell”. It was a warm night, just days before a historic election, and the energy was high; crowds were unprecedented, as it was also a Friday night. Here are a few keepers culled from a ridiculous amount of crap. Enjoy.