ZRC Goes to Halloween on State Street, aka Freakfest
The Zombie Rights Campaign made our annual trek to the enormous outdoor Halloween costume party (which the city has rebranded as ‘Freakfest’ in recent years) last night, and it was a decided mixed bag.
On the one hand, there were numerous opportunities to advance the cause of Zombie Rights. We picketed, marched, chanted, protested, talked with the crowd and handed out literature. More literature than I thought we would, to be honest; next year I shall bring a larger supply so as not to have to be stingy with the pamphlets. Mea culpa.
As is the case with Freakfest, there were thousands of people in costume and many dozens of great and original ideas or executions. I have documented a tiny sample of these on our flickr account, and shall be putting up a page just of pictures from the event shortly. We also got a number of nifty short videos, which helps to document a developing trend in costumery that was very evident this year, namely the concept of moving/changing costumes. Most commonly this involved blinking lights or LEDs but there were a few real standouts that pictures literally could not do justice, and so video had to be employed.
On the other hand, there were real negatives to this year’s outing as well. Getting the obvious out of the way, there was naturally resistance to our positive message of outreach and understanding; quite frankly we’re used to it. What the ZRC did not anticipate, however, was the arbitrary, confrontational and inept way the event was managed.
Where to start! Ok, to begin with, security at this event was the worst I have ever seen in my entire life. The event suffered from a completely schizophrenic and, might I add, unpublished, unwritten policy on ‘weapons’ to be found in costumes. Thus, at the entrance we unfortunately chose, nothing that the security guard deemed could be remotely used, in some crazed imaginary scenario, as an implement to harm another human being was allowed. Specifically, they confiscated items and threw them into a barrel, which they alternately referred to as ‘trash’ and assured people they could come back for.
Of course, since the streets were blocked off and the entrances/exits were not at the same intersections, coming back after the event (as we did) could mean hiking back and forth across the isthmus through the maze of streets and barricades that made traffic on much of the south side of the isthmus a nearly impassable jam.
And thus the flimsy yard sticks that are used for the core of our signage were deemed ‘weapons’ and the signs not allowed in. Note, for the observant, that these were the EXACT SAME SIGNS we took to last year’s rally. They also confiscated the sealed, unopened, brand new bottle of water the art director brought, having been informed last year that only unopened bottles could be brought inside for fear of alcohol getting loose and causing a rampage, or some other facetious nonsense.
Here’s where I note that there is no notice of said policy on the web; Freakfest doesn’t even have a proper website, for that matter. Nor was I informed when I purchased the ticket about said policy, nor is said policy on the tickets themselves. This Soviet-style policy of rules you’re not allowed to see but forced to accept is profoundly insulting to everyone who purchased a ticket and to all the hardworking people who try year after year to bring something special and creative to Madison on Halloween.
Imagine, a costume party where you ban all rigid structural elements or any item that could be used, with the sort of innovation found in maximum security prisons, to harm someone. That’s what they’re trying to accomplish at Freakfest, apparently.
Fortunately the artistic director had the quick thinking to remove the yardsticks from the signs, making them acceptable to the security goon squad, though this also meant mutilating and ruining our best and most classic picket signs, ones that we have used in several states over several years, iconic and, at least to me, sentimental pieces of civil rights paraphrenalia.
Compounding the insult, forcing the ZRC as well as other attendees in line behind us to tear up and dismantle their outfits on the fly to comply with unlisted rules (for all we know being made up upon the spot to discriminate according to the perosnal tastes of security personnel) was the fact that once you got inside the event not only did we see hundreds of people carrying implements we had been told were banned by the City itself (despite this being a private event, outsourced as it were), we also witnessed individuals with actual weapons, ranging from riding crops to large heavy sticks and canes.
I should have expected this; the ‘pat-down’ I received was the worst I have ever witnessed. These part-time, cut-rate Sherlock Holmeses didn’t even notice that I had a camera bag slung across my back while the camera was in my hands. Nor did they bother checking my back at all; for all they knew, I had several grams of cocaine in the bag and a katana resting alongside my spine.
Once inside the gross incompetence continued unabated. Having confiscated beverages from at least some of the crowd, one might think it was incumbent upon the event organizers to provide a place to purchase or acquire something to drink. That, however, would require an ounce of common sense.
A person might be forgiven for assuming that, given the immense crowd, a fair number of food vendors would be invited in to operate carts, as in previous years. Instead, there was.. a Papa John’s truck I think. That was about it. The result was of course that the restaurants on State were absolutely mobbed and there wasn’t much of an option for food if you didn’t want to spend much of your evening in line, and basically nowhere to sit down and eat your meal once you had it.
Having made it all but impossible to come and go to one’s car due to a rat’s nest of street detours and barricades, one might expect at least minimal bathroom facilities to be provided on site. Instead the ZRC witnessed precisely one portable toilet the entire night, with a line that wrapped down the block and around a corner.
The musical acts were far fewer in number and played for far less time than in previous years; most of the stages were unoccupied at any given monent we were in attendance, or at best playing canned music. Even the headliner, Ok Go, played an extremely truncated set and didn’t come on until well after midnight.
In spite of all this, the ZRC did our job, and managed to enjoy ourselves as well. It’s the calling of Zombie Rights Advocates to persevere and overcome adversity, after all. However the effects of the continuing mismanagement of ‘Freakfest’ were more than evident in the crowd. In previous years elaborate costumes and performance groups would show up to parade down State Street with costumes involving all manner of tools and implements; one group was noteworthy for using stilts year after year. Instead, in 2010, costumes had to be tailored to suit the ever more ridiculous security apparatus, and were markedly stripped down and minimized. People didn’t seem to stay as long, and the crowd was far more dominated by drunken UW undergraduates than it had been in prior years the ZRC was present.
People are getting the message and staying home, which is tragic.
We met up with many Zombies last night, however, and spread the word about our support for their fight for Equality. We also confronted several Living Supremacists, a couple of whom even stooped so low as to tear up our pamphlets, given to them in the spirit of fellowship and education. That has never happened to the ZRC before! People sometimes throw them away, often refuse to take them and open their minds even a crack, but to counter-demonstrate by shredding them? Wow. I guess we’re hitting a nerve!
Astonishing the lengths to which people will go to remain ignorant of the plight of others.
It was all worth it to see the smiles and happiness on the faces of our Undead brothers and sisters, however, people who often have no allies and can dare to come out undisguised only on special occasions such as this. There were more than a few heart-warming moments of solidarity last night, perhaps a few tears shed, I won’t divulge details about that.
Progress was made, and hope given anew.
After several hours of active campaigning, photography and videography the ZRC made its way to an exit and eventually found our way back to the entrance to get our yardsticks back, at which point, if you can believe it, the security guards mocked us for doing so! They honestly expected, I guess, to get to keep the property they had confiscated.
Perhaps one of them wants to open a costume store?
When I asked them about all of this, they blamed the city, they blamed the production company, they blamed the city council and the mayor, and never, no matter how often they were confronted about it, could provide a justification for any of their policies that passed the laugh test. At one point the elder statesmen of the security contingent tried to explain that my yardstick could put someone’s eye out because, so he claimed, he had an idiot grandson who had nearly done so himself.
The fact that this particular guard’s family should only be allowed to use paper cut into circles and safety scissors is somehow relevant to my attire.
We left, having retrieved our property, and came back home exhausted but empowered. The ZRC had gone out boldly on our annual march, and we had spread awareness, perhaps changed a few minds. Though this may be our last Freakfest, as well, I imagine, as the last one for many of the thirsty, tired, hungry, full-bladdered attendees who saw their ticket money similarly squandered, the ZRC has no regrets. So long as there are Zombies in need of our advocacy, we march, we picket, and we strive on their behalf.
It may not be on State Street next year, but be assured, we will still be working in this, the busiest and darkest time of the year for Zombie Advocates, for as long as our help is required.
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