每一集开播之前最期待片头，每一季开播前最期待万圣节特辑，不知道这算不算是The Simpsons粉丝的共性。
万圣节特辑从1990年开始，至今已有21集，通常由三个毫无关联却同样荒诞、诡谲、黑暗、调侃的故事组成，一般按照恐怖、科幻、灵异的顺序进行。各种引用、借喻、反讽、解构都在万圣节特辑里被发挥到极致，诗歌、小说、绘画、音乐、戏剧、电影、漫画（当然还有电视剧，虽然主要是Twilight Zone），一切艺术形式在这里都被征引和重构，将各种类型的美国文化炖煮在一起，目眩神迷。（什么？这不是The.Simpsons每一季的共性吗？只是恐怖树屋系列更重口味更吸引眼球而已。D'oh!）
在万圣节特辑里，最让人不舍的莫过于开幕词，可惜这个传统没有延续下来。比如第一集(S2EP3)，帷幕拉开之前，Marge的一段经典演说(当然这一段也是在模仿《科学怪人》1931)：Hello, everyone. You know, Halloween is a very strange holiday. Personally, I don't understand it. Kids worship ghosts, pretending to be devils.Things on TV that are completely inappropriate for the young viewers. Things like the following next half-hour. Nothing bothers my kids. But tonight's show, which I totally wash my hands of, is really scary. If you have sensitive kids, maybe you should tuck them into bed...instead of writing us angry letters tomorrow.
最有趣莫过于那对外星活宝Kang和Kodos，总是坐在飞船里窥探地球，好像在看live show。某一集里Bart乘坐的校车遭到小鬼袭击，Kang和Kodos幸灾乐祸，不亦乐乎，不料转身一看，小鬼已经出现在自己飞船的窗外。还有另外一集对“火星人入侵地球”事件的再现（“火星人入侵地球”是美国传播史上最著名的事件之一，1938年哥伦比亚广播公司改编的《星球大战》广播剧在电台播出之后，引起全国性的恐慌），在动画里，人们被糊弄之后怒不可遏，拒绝相信任何关于外星人的信息，Kang和Kodos刚好在此刻大举进攻，坐收渔翁之利。
万圣节特辑里模仿的电影不胜枚举，比如The Exorcist、King Kong（Homer在婚礼上吃宾客的情节真是让人笑到打跌）、Night of the Living Dead、Mr. & Mrs. Smith、Transformers、Sweeney Todd等等等等，闪光点无数。然而最吸引我的，却和这些电影无关，而是第一集里的第三个故事，Homer对Allan Poe经典诗歌The Raven的颠覆性再现。
Allan Poe的经典论述“The death of a beautiful woman is unquestionably the most poetical topic in the world, and equally is it beyond doubt that the lips best suited for such topic are those of a bereaved lover”广为流传，The Raven堪称是对这一论述作具体诠释，字里行间的哀伤唯美挥之不去。作为Allan Poe的忠实粉丝，看到Homer穿着一身睡衣摊在沙发上半死不活，墙上绝世美人Lenore的画像展示的却是蓝色发髻直达云霄的Marge，头上已有无数只乌鸦飘过。而看到乌鸦从Homer的档下钻过、Homer满屋追打乌鸦、Bart将乌鸦唯一的回答Nevermore篡改给eat my shorts，已然彻底无力，语言难以形容，请有兴趣的童鞋自行观赏。
顺便附上The Raven的原作，文字和影像对比阅读，更具冲击：
Edgar Allan Poe
The Raven
［First published in 1845］
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'
But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
