An evil is spreading in the shadows of every hometown this Halloween. You can find it lurking in the stockrooms of your favorite stores, hissing inside every stereo, skulking just behind the cleavage of every “provocative ______” costume.

That evil is Christmas.

I was getting into the spirit of the season last week, following up a crisp October evening with a trip to see “30 Days of Night.” I was ready for blood-drenched fangs, grisly decapitations, and screams that’d leave my ears ringing for days after.

What I wasn’t ready for was “Little Drummer Boy.”

Our precocious, pre-pubescent percussionist assaulted my autumnal ears in the theater while I waited for the movie to start and watched the trivia slideshow cycle through 30 times.

What at first seemed like a quirk of the Muzak continued on into other holiday selections. It turned out to be an advertisement for a Christmas music CD, so, thankfully, the visions of sugarplums haven’t hit the radio waves yet.

But still, they’re selling Christmas music. A week before Halloween.

It doesn’t stop there. The church near my house has already assembled the wooden corral that will house Douglas firs and Scotch pines in the months to come.

Your local convenience stores have truckloads of decorations and chocolate Santas collecting dust in the back, waiting for the day they can burst into the aisle. Customers will then buy the recently-displayed-but-month-old candy because it’s “fresher.”

Stop. Please, just stop.

It’s October. Three weeks ago it was 85 degrees outside. We haven’t put away our lawnmowers yet. I’m not ready for this. I can’t take this, not yet.

Counting the spillover into January where people leave their decorations on and their trees up, Santa’s bloated behind has spilled over a quarter of the year, and if we keep feeding him cookies, he’ll swallow another quarter of it. By the time I have kids of my own, “Christmas in July” sales won’t be ironic anymore.

Of course, the Christmas season’s great for the economy. It’s a season crammed with splurges, bingeing, conspicuous consumption and runaway credit card debt. People throw their money away in the name of Christmas. Stores that haven’t been turning a profit all year have one last chance to put their books in the black with big sales.

But what’s good for the economy isn’t necessarily good for the rest of us.

Christmas food is fattening. Christmas carols have a six-week shelf life before they get irritating. Trees only live so long, and the lengthening of the Christmas season doesn’t jibe with my paycheck, either.

When the songs say “Keep Christmas with you,” they mean the spirit of kindness and generosity. They don’t mean the songs, decorations, food or shopping. Stretching Christmas into the fall isn’t holiday cheer – it’s gluttony.

By the end of the week, you’ll be able to buy Christmas decorations, ribbons and wrapping paper.

None of my ranting is going to stop stores from trying to shove Christmas down our throats this year. But it wouldn’t hurt to gag a little, showing that we find Christmas in October hard to swallow.