POLITICS OF FEAR THERE'S NEITHER TRICK NOR TREAT FOR VOTERS.

Byline: STEVE YOUNG

HEY, kids! It's Halloween! Time to be very, very afraid.

When President Franklin D. Roosevelt soothed the economically anxious American public with ``the only thing we have to fear is fear itself,'' he had obviously never considered a nightmare such as the 2004 presidential campaign. The only saving grace to the past six months - has it only been that long? - is that there are scarcely 48 hours left before we, or nine primordial black robers from Washington, decide who will become the commander-in-grief for the next four Halloweens.

Mischief Night used to be held one evening before Halloween, not two days after, but this Tuesday could make all the Mischief Nights, Halloweens and Friday the 13ths to come seem like leisurely walks in the park. From what each side in the presidential election is promising, if the other guy wins, we're all going to die a ghastly death.

It's spooky.

If President George W. Bush wins, he will draft your children, take away Social Security and give it to the top 1 percent of the 700 Club.

If Sen. John Kerry wins, your kids will become gay - and married. Or maybe the other way around.

If Ralph Nader wins, we'll all go to Hell in a handbasket, though every handbasket will be equipped with a seat belt.

If it's a tie, then Antonin Scalia wins.

TV political ads should come with a rabies warning: Eagles, ostriches and wolves, oh my! Radio is worse: Coulters, Frankens and Hannitys, oh, even ``my-er''!

Seems that Stephen King is scripting this year's election, and Dracula, Frankenstein and the Wolfman are in awe. The vaunted 527s seem more like 666s. Transylvania is still in play. Phone-bank campaign calls have the eerie dread of a whispered, ``It's a push-poll call, and it's coming from your house.''

You think razors in apples are scary? Try Florida daring to vote - again. The ghosts of 2000 continue to haunt Election Day. If I lived in Dade County, I wouldn't answer the door to anyone wearing an Al Gore mask. It may not be a mask.

When ``The Daily Show'' with Jon Stewart's fake news wins the Television Critics Association award for news and information programming, beating out PBS' ``Frontline'' and ABC's ``Nightline,'' could the Apocalypse be far away?

When Pat Robertson says that God told him one thing, and Bush says God said another, are we just the target of God's Halloween trick?

When the deceased make up a powerful voting bloc in Illinois - a Chicago sacrament - and the whispered ``I see dead voters'' sends hordes of campaign workers into cemeteries to exhume registrants and collect absentee - very absentee - ballots, is a Four Horsemen ride far away? And for whom, may I ask, will the unearthly quartet be voting?

When a 10,000-lawyer plague is ready to swarm down on Florida and Ohio to ravage the election and tie up the leadership of the country for months, can it be long before Alfred Hitchcock busts from his casket to film the carnage - right after he votes? You think the shower scene was terrifying? Try six weeks of recounts.

When a satirical movie reflecting on the horrid murder of 3,000 innocents and a devout film that passionately traces the gory torture and death of a single man profoundly divide the country, is the Grim Reaper drooling over what he has wrought?

And finally, when talking heads - isn't that a scary picture in itself? - have replaced intellectual debate with shrewish screeching and interruptive badgering, can it be long before political pundits begin spinning their heads and spewing green pea soup? (You know, like Chris Matthews.)

It came from the bowels of CNN, forbidding any decent argument from being fully expressed: ``Crossfire - the Howling.''

This is Edgar Allan Poe, and I approve this column.

Dress like spookiest people: candidates

ALTHOUGH the 2004 campaign has promised Armageddon, why not look at the bright side? It's made for some great last-minute Halloween and costume ideas for the kiddies:

George W. Bush: Be careful not to let anyone see the strings. It takes away from the mystique. No mistake about it. In fact, no mistakes were ever made.

John Kerry: Use every costume you can get your hands on, but make sure to change into a different one depending on who will be answering what door.

Swift boat veteran: Wear whatever you want; then when you knock on doors, recount to whoever answers just what costume John Kerry wore 35 years ago.

The weapons of mass destruction: Hold on for a minute. Still looking for costume.

Osama bin Laden: See WMD.

Teresa Heinz Kerry: Go as a ketchup bottle that can't shut up but keeps telling other costumes that they should.

Saddam Hussein: Anything with stripes.

The WMD: Still looking.

Dick Cheney: Dress up as president. You know, just like the last four years.

Florida voter: Trick or treat on Monday.

John Edwards: Go as a junk scientist, then sue the other kids for using costumes that will poison your candy.

Supreme Court: Don a black robe, then decide which costume the rest of us should wear for the next four years.

Dan Rather: Dress up as Tom Brokaw, say you're Peter Jennings, and then apologize for not admitting who you really are, Jon Lovitz.

Al Franken: Dress as a tree, then go fall in the forest.

The deficit: Find the hugest costume you can, then just let it suffocate your children.

Michael Moore: Let out the deficit costume, get in and use it to suffocate the truth.

The WMD: Ah, forget it. Just go as whatever you can come up with. At least 50 percent of the people will buy anything, anyway.

Swing voter: Don't decide on a costume until the last minute, then watch how much candy you get.

- Steve Young

CAPTION(S):

drawing, box

Drawing:

(color) no caption (children dressed as politicians)

Patrick O'Connor/Staff Artist

Box:

Dress like spookiest people: candidates (see text)