I’ll never forget the taunting instrumental jazz diddy, the dirty children with their scrawled notebook faces, the emaciated outhouse dog with his brain-damaged loyalism. Yes, I’m talking about Peanuts, the psychotic crew of precocious depressives, and their 1966 Halloween special, “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.”
That psychological bloodbath of a 45-minute cartoon turned me into a neurotic trainwreck. I would never be so cruel as to expose my child to those or any other Charles Schulz horrors. I keep all content gentle-hearted and sanity-focused.
This Halloween, I’ll cuddle on the couch with my toddler and watch “Terrifier 2,” a masterpiece built around the most innocent protector in cinema history, Art the Clown. Art is a noble knight who will guide my child into sticking up for herself. He is an honorable hero who feeds kids wholesome, protein-packed cereal when they are anxious. He’s a role model of self-defense who, if nothing else, will inspire my child to be resourceful and good at running.
I realize that I’m one of those annoyingly strict helicopter parents. But that’s what happens when you grow up watching kids who can’t grow up and are trapped in an existential hellscape. I really want to be less afraid, but I’m still always looking over my shoulder, paranoid that I’m being stalked by a bipolar boy with a blanket.
Sadly, I have yet to meet a mother as principled and devoted to protecting her child’s innocence. Most are basically upside down in how they see the world. They think—presumably because Charlie Brown is a cartoon—that he’s the good guy and that Art is the bad guy! I’ve come to dread daycare drop-off. Everyone is still held mentally hostage by Charlie Brown and his Klonopin-chomping gang of deviants. Meanwhile, nobody compliments my clown costume, which took a lot of guts and roadkill to make.
I’m trying to be positive, but if tradition holds, the yuletide holidays will only be worse than Halloween. Everyone will be watching “A Charlie Brown Christmas” and celebrating anemic marijuana plants disguised as Christmas trees.
Fortunately, my toddler and I will have “The Human Centipede” or “Martyrs” or both to get us through the storm.
