Schlocktoberfest

Today is October 1 and you know what that means. It means that every knucklehead and his brother will be celebrating "Rocktober" with bloody abandon. Every godforsaken music programmer across the lands and digital space will be "Rockin' the 'Tober." Lame-brained marketers will foist thirty-one unremarkable days of Schlocktober™ upon the citizenry. Overpriced, under-delivering TGIFF theme restaurants will dial up the calories and ear-splitting volume in honor of the "sale-a-bration." The goddamned dormitories and infernal fraternal houses on university row will chug-a-lug their way through the ceremonies, as well. Did the goodly month of October consent to such a bastardization of its name? No, it did not. If October were a “brand,” the trademark lawyers would be out in force, challenging countless usage violations. Alas, the sonofabitchization goes unchecked and we don’t see an end to it. Coming to a waterway near you: Docktober! At the sweat-stained workout hellhole: Jocktober! Look for Crocktober at the Pottery Barnyard®. Flocktober at the Pentecostal-white church. Frocktober at the Mennonite furniture outlet. Locktober at the mortgage company — but strangely not at the locksmith, one of the only storekeepers with a shred of decency left. It’s Socktober at the fashion depot. Machtober at the motorcar speedway. Woktober at the Chinese restaurant. One supposes we have Germany's traditional Oktoberfest bock-a-nalia to thank for all this, but at least there you'll find fulsome, little-miss-lederhosens serving sausages and steins big as your arm. Adding insult to egregious injury, October is Black History Month in the UK and one awaits the arrival of various ill-conceived Bläcktoberfest events in the newsfeed soon. Bloody hell. Don’t say we didn’t warn you.