One must imagine Jason Voorhees happy

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A reason for dying, a reason for living …

Jason Voorhees is in hell. 

That might seem cruel to us at the outset of the “Friday the 13th” series. After all, all Jason did was die young, drowning in the lake that lends its name to a cursed summer camp under the not-so-watchful eyes of hormonal camp counselors. Outside of an all-timer of a final jump scare, little Jason doesn’t even do any killing in the first film.

His innocence becomes harder to defend in later films, as a newly masked Jason lugs his bloodied machete through summer camps, lakeside resorts and outer space. By the time he stages a gorier rerun of the Muppets' bloodless 1984 coup in New York City, there’s no question that Voorhees deserves his eternal damnation to date-based toil in the splatter mines.

Every year, he appears, he hacks and slashes, he catches an ax to the head, a bit of buckshot to the chest or a well-timed electrocution for his trouble. Still, you have to imagine he’s content in the moment just before he’s cast back into the pit. Otherwise, why go through the trouble of lopping off a head at all?

The 12 movies don’t give Voorhees much of an interior life, but if you’ve lived your entire life as a progressive in the United States, it’s not hard to imagine. The hurry up and wait of it all. Having a rare sense of purpose, and a pretty good idea of how to carry it out, knowing that you’re likely to be stymied at every turn and turned into a campfire story or bogeyman by your enemies.

(To any leftist feeling a bit miffed over the comparison to a slasher villain, I’ll admit this is an absurd comparison. Halloween is the last chance to revel in bloody camp before pulling the foam tombstones in from the front yard and stashing the skeleton door-hangers in the attic. So, if you’ll follow me for one more day…)

In nearly every era of U.S. history, progressives and leftists have burst onto the scene and won major victories for their fellow Americans – labor protections, anti-discrimination laws, voting rights – only to have the powers that be push them back into oblivion. The Supreme Court narrows the scope of broad victories, conservative politicians claw back labor gains, an alphabet agency kills an icon, and the movement goes dormant. The formerly unstoppable is sent back down into hell by the devil, or by Ronald Reagan. Do we repeat ourselves?

If that struggle feels like an endless, pointless cycle sometimes, that doesn’t mean the moments of victory aren’t real. Jason’s banishment to the underworld won’t bring back the unfortunate horny teens who crossed his path during his brief moment in the moonlight, and the overwhelming right-wing backlash of the Trump era, across all three branches of government, can’t undo all the progress that came before.

“There is no fate that cannot be surmounted by scorn,” wrote a French absurdist who never even saw an undead monster punch a boxer’s head clean off. As opponents of Donald Trump and his movement find themselves waiting for victories that can seem impossibly remote, we should remember the mute monster, waiting for his opening with a machete at the ready. We can’t see what's behind his mask, but we have to imagine he’s smiling.

What do you think? Are you ready for the end of spooky season? Should we aspire to better role models than a serial murderer? Sound off in the comments.

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