Humor by Chason Gordon. See below.
So there I was, elbow deep in the disgusting bowel-like innards of a pumpkin, when it occurred to me, why in the hell am I doing this? “Chason, it’s a tradition.” “Please, cannibalism is a tradition, but I don’t see you inviting your friends over for that.” With Halloween upon us, I want to put a proposition before you. The reign of carving pumpkins during Halloween needs to come to an end, because just down the grocery aisle is a far superior carvable product: the watermelon. Below are ten reasons why, for the number ten is a very marketable and accessible number. Some of the reasons will destroy the reputation of pumpkins, and others will canonize the heretofore forgotten watermelon.
1. Pumpkins are Part of Halloween?
Sure, carving pumpkins is a tradition here, but in Ireland and England (where much of the tradition emanated), they have carved turnips, swedes (not the people), mangelwurzels (a type of beet), and rutabagas (which are a cross between cabbages and turnips, and in my mind, inspired the Studebaker). This is all to say, we only wound up carving pumpkins because they happened to grow here in greater numbers.
2. But I Love Pumpkin Pie!
Don’t you raise your voice with me! Pumpkins having been riding the coattails of pumpkin pie for years. It is everyone’s first and only defense of the pumpkin. I put it to you sir or madam that you do not like pumpkin pie as much as you think you do. Have you ever eaten it without ice cream? Ice cream is quite the crutch for pumpkin pie, because the great pies – cherry, lemon meringue, and humble pie – don’t need ice cream to carry them over the finish line. Furthermore, I bet you only eat pumpkin pie once a year; if you spent the same amount of time with your family, it would be clear to everyone that you don’t love them.
3. Carving a Pumpkin is Disgusting
I really feel it’s not a giant to leap to go from carving a pumpkin to cutting up the body of someone you’ve just killed. Every time I carve a pumpkin I feel like I am giving an enema to a fruit that can no longer digest properly. Oh that wet stringy pulp and those seeds which look like corn niblets in shit are just wonderful to have spread all over my arms. You can tell which pumpkin I’ve carved because it’s the one where the carver clearly gave up getting all the pulp out, and sat down to eat fifty mini Kit Kats before passing out.
4. Watermelons Actually Taste Good
That’s right, you can actually eat the insides raw. What a novel concept: eating the inside of a fruit. We carve pumpkins precisely because we don’t eat them. Watermelons don’t need to be turned into a sugared filling that in no way resembles the original product to taste good. All the goodness is right there, without any need for alteration. Why time and time again I’ve eaten half a watermelon for dinner and never regretted it once, except for that time I was supposed to meet a girl for dinner. Come back Jessica!
5. You Can’t Carve a Watermelon!
You fool! The texture of watermelon rind is practically just as thick as a pumpkin’s, and hollowing it out would be no more complicated. Whereas once you were dealing with a substance that looks like a Gremlin exploded, now you have the soft, pink, and pillowy texture of a watermelon. No longer will thousands of Americans puke out of disgust into the very pumpkin they were trying to empty out.
6. But All That Juice Will Get in the Way!
I can see your defensive mind is trying to fight back. Oh, you mean that delicious juice that you can simply pour into a pitcher, or suck out in a hilarious party game where everyone has crazy straws? Yes that sounds awful. Go home Sally, this ain’t your night.
7. Watermelons Can’t Stand Up
You know I’m getting a little tired of your impudence. Watermelons don’t need to stand up, they can simply lay on their side, so the face of the watermelon will essentially be an oval shape. What’s that? You can’t have an oval face? Tell that to Seth MacFarlane and the millions of dollars he’s made with the Stewie character. I bet you have a Stewie doll on your desk right now you goddamn hypocrite!
8. The Green Watermelon Doesn’t Look as Good
Oh, I didn’t know I was dealing with a racist here. What’s wrong with a green face you racist? Why don’t you stop reading this article and go back to watching Triumph of the Will. Maybe green people don’t have a place at your stuck up country club, but they’d fit right in on the porches of millions of American homes. This is a country founded on immigration, but it’s just like the racist pumpkin to get off the boat and tell the watermelon to go back where it came from. You all make me sick.
9. Watermelons Don’t Have Stems to Pull the Top Off
Are your carpentry skills so feeble that you can’t manage to fashion something to pull the top off a watermelon? Please, no one wants to hear your silly complaints or the see the hands that you clearly mangled in shop class.
10. But I Already Carved a Pumpkin
Yes, that is certainly a corner from which there is no escape. Excuse me moderator, could you line up a better debate candidate next time?
So head down to your local fruiterie (made-up word) this Halloween and grab a watermelon. You will be the only one on your block with a carved watermelon, and that my friends, is how leaders are made. People will come to see your carved watermelon from miles around, like the ending of Field of Dreams. The local paper will write a story about you. At first there will be hesitance, because everyone fears change (“Crazy Old Gordon” they’ll call you), but slowly the tide will turn, and more and more people will stick knives into watermelons and never regret having done so.
I see Halloweens with candles illuminating green faces everywhere. I see children rolling carved watermelons down the street, and parents refreshed by juicy watermelons as they cheer them on. I see people developing all sorts of watermelon treats, like candies, pies, cookies, and ice cream. I see entire communities encouraged by their ability to change, leading ultimately to a reduction in crime and poverty. I see the green watermelon becoming a symbol for the vitality and youth of this nation, allowing us to wrench ourselves from this poor economy and rise once again as a shining city upon a hill, the beacon of freedom in this world, in which all nations and peoples turn to the American light once again, like a young hopeful child, drawn to the lit watermelon sitting on a friendly porch.