For The Dead Travel Fast

"As the fallen leaves career before us - crumbling ruins of summer's beautiful halls - we cannot help thinking of those who have perished - who have gone before us, blown forward to the grave by the icy blasts of Death."

- Robert Chambers (1802-1871)

The Jack-O'-Lantern is the symbol of Halloween, that grinning visage illuminated by flickering candlelight, an inviting talisman for throngs of costumed children as they prowl the darkened streets every October the 31st. What do you see in your mind's eye when you imagine the Jack-O'-Lantern? A stout pumpkin, a hollowed-out gourd with two triangle-shaped holes for eyes and an irregular, upturned gash for a mouth? That's what we call the Jack-O'-Lantern now, but like nearly everything else associated with this haunted holiday, its original form was much different, and much more twisted. Do you know the story of Stingy Jack?

Stingy Jack, also known as "Jack of the Lantern" was a bad man. A drunkard, a con artist, a cutthroat, a thief and more besides, old Jack had become almost legendary for his cruelty and capacity for deceit. Stories of Stingy Jack's misdeeds had spread far and wide, so far, in fact, that the Devil himself had heard his share of the tales, and became intrigued. Intrigued, and perhaps a little envious, truth be told. The Devil simply couldn't believe his ears. How could one mortal man possess a soul so corrupt that its darkness could rival his own? He had to meet this man for himself, to satisfy his curiosity... and to claim Jack's prized soul for his collection.

He happened upon Stingy Jack staggering down a cobblestone path late one evening, quite drunk. Despite his inebriation, Jack quickly recognized the Devil for what he was, and realized that his time was up. He agreed to accompany the Devil to his infernal abode without a struggle, asking only for one final pint of ale at his favorite pub before he departed the mortal realm. The Devil relented, joining Jack for a drink at the pub, and Jack began to regale his host with tales of his nefarious past. "One final pint" became many, as the barkeep kept the ale flowing for this boisterous pair, and Jack continued to delight the Devil with colorful recollections of his copious sins.

Hours passed, and Jack decided that he was ready to leave, having finally quenched his thirst. Leaning over the well-worn table, he implored the Devil to transform himself into a silver coin, so that he may pay the barkeep for the night's libations. Shortly after dropping the coin into the till, Jack mused, it would "mysteriously disappear" as the Devil regained his true form, and the barkeep would accuse the remaining patrons of theft, causing quite a commotion. The Devil smiled as he heard Jack's plan. How fitting, after all, for Stingy Jack to leave this world having committed one more small sin upon some unsuspecting soul.

In a flash, the Devil transformed into a gleaming silver coin that Jack quickly deposited in his coin purse, along with a small silver crucifix he had stolen from a mourning widow earlier that day. He had hoped to sell the bauble in the next village later in the week for a tidy profit, but now he had been presented with an opportunity he simply couldn't resist. Jack quietly slipped out of the pub, greeting the sunrise with a wide grin as he made his way down the road, gently patting the coin purse that dangled from his hip.

The Devil quickly found that he was trapped within, held at bay by the crucifix that clattered against his silver skin with every step that Jack took down the cobblestone path. He implored his captor to release him, elseways his eternal punishment would be truly terrible to behold when he finally got his hands on Jack's blackened soul. Jack held the Devil captive for days and days, hiding the coin purse away in the soft soil under the shade of an old oak tree to muffle his prisoner's cries of frustration. Trapped in unbroken darkness and silence, the Devil remained until Jack finally retrieved his coin purse from that shallow grave to offer him a deal.

The Devil fumed as he listened to the words formed by Stingy Jack's silver tongue. Jack would agree to release the Devil from his prison only if the Devil agreed never to claim Jack's immortal soul, a fair wager, he assured his prisoner. After all, why would the Devil ever want to keep the soul of the man who outsmarted him close at hand? Why, if given enough time, Jack could charm or trick the Devil right out of his throne, supplanting him as the lord of the underworld. The Devil readily agreed to Jack's terms, eager to be rid of this troublesome mortal once and for all, and Jack released his prisoner, who vanished in a flash of light, leaving only the faintest redolence of brimstone carried on the autumn breeze. Quite pleased with himself, Stingy Jack could now claim to have bested the Devil himself among his ever-growing assemblage of boasts.

Years passed, and Jack continued to live his life the way he wanted, indulging in all of his sinful impulses without ever bothering to consider the consequences of his actions. Eventually, time caught up to Stingy Jack, as it does to us all, and he closed his eyes to the mortal realm. Surrounded by brilliant light, Jack could make out a shape before him, a great, glittering gate. Approaching the structure, his tentative steps quickly became more confident as he realized what it all meant, that this was Paradise and he was coming home at last. But when he reached the gate, it would not open for him, and the booming voice of St. Peter overwhelmed his senses. This gate would never open for Stingy Jack, St. Peter intoned, for the weight of his sins and his unrepentant nature placed him far beyond all hope of redemption.

Banished from the light of Paradise, Stingy Jack found himself cast into darkness, the foreboding obsidian gates of the Inferno jutting sharply into the soot-streaked sky. Jack stood at the gate, seeking entrance to the realm belonging to his old foe, numerous schemes already percolating in his devious mind. But the Devil would not open the gates for Stingy Jack, holding true to his promise never to claim the black soul of his hated adversary. He laughed heartily as he saw old Jack's despondent face lingering at the gate, taking great pleasure in seeing his arrogant opponent laid low.

But as time passed, and Jack remained at the gate, the Devil's mood began to darken. He called out to Jack, telling him to leave his realm and never come back. Jack replied that he would if he could, but the darkness beyond the gate was all-encompassing, and he had no means to light his way through the suffocating gloom. Taking pity on the only man to ever best him, the Devil tossed Jack a smoldering ember from the flames of Hell that would never die out, as well as a knotty old turnip, which he knew to be Jack's favorite food. Jack used a sharp rock to carve open the turnip, using its hollow shell to hold the burning ember, and he employed this infernal lantern to illuminate his path through the darkness, back to the mortal realm.

Denied the pleasures of Heaven and the torments of Hell, doomed to wander the world for all eternity, Jack of the Lantern now haunts the lonely and deserted roads of small towns and villages, crossing field and stream in an endless journey, searching for the respite he can never have. His burning lantern acts as a warning for all denizens of the underworld that periodically roam the land of the living, and they all heed the Devil's warning to give this devious soul a wide berth, lest he take advantage of them.

That's the story of Stingy Jack, also known as "Jack of the Lantern", the black soul who beat the devil and was doomed to suffer until the end of time for his reward. His burning lantern became a symbol to ward off malign spirits throughout Europe by superstitious folk who believed that they could trick the Devil's minions into passing over their homes by mistaking the hollowed-out, burning turnips on their doorsteps for Stingy Jack's blazing lantern.

Some time after the colonization of the New World, the indigenous pumpkin became perhaps a more suitable,  malleable representation of Jack's lantern, much more iconic than a puny turnip, I'm sure you would agree. The sheer size of the average pumpkin gives one more opportunity for artistic license, at any rate, transforming a simple hole to allow flickering candlelight to shine through into a chance for boundless creativity. Just Google jack-o'-lantern or Halloween pumpkin and you'll see how ingenious people can get when it comes to pumpkin carving.

You may even have a leering Jack-O'-Lantern resting on your front porch right now, waiting patiently for the evening's trick-or-treaters to arrive. At least now you know why you've mutilated a pumpkin, dropped a candle in its hollow bulk and placed it on display outside of your house to be viewed by an assemblage of strangers.

Maybe next time you're out in the darkened countryside or passing through a quiet neighborhood sometime after midnight, and you see a flickering light in the distance, you'll recognize it as the burning ember of Stingy Jack's lantern. And if you're smart, you'll walk the other way.

Seeing as how it's Halloween, I figured it was time to return to the family crypt and exhume the moldering corpse of The Podcast Of Lies once again for your listening enjoyment. While we're all here, allow me to unveil the latest episode, entitled The Horror Show, Part 4: No Exit, a madcap examination of the macabre underbelly of our modern pop culture. Discussions in this episode include the films Prince Of Darkness, VHS & VHS 2, The Entity, Faust: Love Of The Damned, the recent Sleepy Hollow TV series, and the ageless beauty known only as Elvira, Mistress of the Dark (Yes, she's also known as Cassandra Peterson, but just roll with me on this). Enjoy 20 minutes of Halloween-themed bliss:

The Horror Show, Part 4: No Exit



And while I'm at it, allow me to provide you with links to the previous three installments of our The Horror Show series, because I'm in a particularly festive mood.

The Horror Show



The Horror Show, Part 2: Samhain Forever!!!



The Horror Show, Part 3: Re-Animated!!!



That's all for now. It's time to close the book on another Halloween here at The Book Of Lies, and I'd like to thank you for spending a few moments of your Halloween with me. At times like these, I can't help but be reminded of the wise words my dear Mummy used to say to me while we traipsed through the graveyard on those cool, crisp autumn evenings, our hands and clothes streaked with mud from a long, hard day of robbing graves, pillow cases slung over our shoulders, laden with baubles pilfered from the dead...

HOME IS WHERE THE HEARSE IS!