The New Year's Twilight Zone Marathon
Populism, Conspiracy and Fear on Maple Street
“The tools of conquest do not necessarily come with bombs and explosions and fallout. There are weapons that are simply thoughts, attitudes, prejudices—to be found only in the minds of men. For the record, prejudices can kill and suspicion can destroy, and a thoughtless, frightened search for a scapegoat has a fallout all of its own for the children... the children yet unborn. And the pity of it is... that these things cannot be confined to... The Twilight Zone.”
The Twilight Zone marathon has become a beloved New Year’s Eve tradition in the U.S., a kind of quirky ritual that pairs perfectly with cold weather and a quiet night in. As I write this on December 28th, that day is fast approaching, and already, memes and chatter about the show are appearing online. For fans of Rod Serling’s iconic series, this time of year is like a countdown to our own kind of ball drop, binging those haunting, thought-provoking episodes that still resonate decades later.
Legend has it that the very first Twilight Zone marathon aired on Thanksgiving Day in 1980, running for eight hours straight.[1] Since then, it’s shifted over the years to New Year’s Eve, where it’s stayed, but I remember it most vividly as a Fourth of July tradition. While other kids were running through sprinklers or setting off fireworks, I was that introspective, slightly awkward outsider glued to the TV, soaking in the strange tales and moral lessons of The Twilight Zone.
My love for the show came from my mom. She’d watched it in its original run and always treated each episode like a little lesson plan, breaking down the moral takeaways after Rod Serling’s epilogues. I can still picture her explaining themes like greed, fear, and empathy, as if Serling had left her a teaching guide. By the time I was 13 or 14, I’d started recording those Fourth of July marathons on VHS, filling tape after tape with the likes of "Time Enough at Last," "Eye of the Beholder," and, of course, "The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street."
"The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street" was always one of my favorites. First aired on March 4, 1960, the episode captures the paranoia of its era with an eerie prescience. Set in a picturesque suburban neighborhood, it starts with something as simple as a meteor streaking across the sky and knocking out the power. But what follows is a rapid unraveling of trust, as the neighbors, initially so polite and cohesive, turn on one another in a desperate search for someone to blame.
This story was directly tied to the anxieties of the time, particularly the Red Scare of the 1950s. As anti-communist propaganda swept through the U.S., fueled by figures like Senator Joseph McCarthy, fear of infiltration and subversion seeped into nearly every aspect of American life. McCarthyism saw countless people accused of communist sympathies, often with little or no evidence, leading to blacklists, ruined careers, and widespread fear. "The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street" reflects this cultural hysteria, showing how easily suspicion and fear can transform a close-knit community into a mob.
Years later, I pulled this episode out of my own childhood memories and used it as a teaching tool when I became an adjunct professor in a political science class. Before COVID upended everything and pushed classes into e-learning, I would play this episode for my students as part of a discussion on political paranoia, propaganda, and how fear can be weaponized to control societies. It was always fascinating to watch my students, many of whom were veterans, react to the episode. They could see the parallels not just to McCarthyism but to so many moments in history when fear outweighed reason and tore people apart.
One of the most profound moments in The Twilight Zone collection comes when Les Goodman, played by Barry Atwater, stands against the growing mob on Maple Street. As the neighbors, now consumed by fear, frantically search for someone to blame for the mysterious power outage, Goodman delivers a scathing and haunting warning:
"You scared, frightened rabbits, you. You're sick people, do you know that? You're sick people—all of you! And you don't even know what you're starting because let me tell you... let me tell you—this thing you're starting—that should frighten you. As God is my witness... you're letting something begin here that's a nightmare!"
What makes this moment so powerful is that Goodman sees what’s happening before it even fully begins. His words aren’t spoken with the benefit of hindsight but with the sharp clarity of foresight. He recognizes the mob’s fear and understands exactly where it will lead, how suspicion and desperation will grow until they consume the neighborhood entirely. That kind of warning carries immense weight because it’s rare to witness someone articulate the danger so clearly in real time, especially as others are losing their grip on reason. This wasn’t someone looking back and lamenting the damage already done; it was a desperate plea to stop it before it could spiral out of control. That foresight is what stayed with me the most.
In its early years, the Twilight Zone marathon was treated as quaint. It was a nostalgic way to revisit Rod Serling’s morality tales, which many viewed through the lens of Reagan and Thatcher’s triumphant anti-communist rhetoric. The marathons were entertaining and thought-provoking, but could fit neatly into the narrative of American exceptionalism, even if it meant ignoring some of the more troubling insights.
Yet as the years passed, the meaning of these marathons began to shift. The optimism of the 1980s and 1990s, the end of the Cold War, the collapse of the Berlin Wall, and the dissolution of the Soviet Union, gave way to an era marked by systemic fractures within the U.S. itself. Initially, the 1990s seemed like a time of unparalleled opportunity. The economy boomed under Clinton, the internet promised to revolutionize society, and many believed that liberal democracy had triumphed globally. It was a period of cultural confidence, bolstered by the notion that the American way had prevailed.
But beneath that optimism, deeper issues were simmering. Economic inequality was growing, systemic issues of race and gender were being exposed, and the promises of neoliberal globalization began to reveal their cost. The early 2000s brought a cascade of crises: the 9/11 attacks shattered the sense of national security, endless wars caused widespread death and destruction, and repeated economic recessions exposed the fragility of the “American dream.” The COVID-19 pandemic laid bare the deep inequalities and dysfunctions that had been building for decades, along with human behavior Serling critiqued, reversing any lingering optimism for younger generations who had grown up in this precarious world.
In this new context, The Twilight Zone marathons took on a more poignant and reflective role, the role they were always meant to play, rather than being relegated to a cliché product revival or the fodder for superficial readings. For years, episodes were stripped of their bite, retold in defanged and declawed versions, like those parodied in The Simpsons. These reinterpretations, while amusing, often reduced Serling’s profound critiques to mere plot devices, robbing them of their original depth and urgency.
But as society grappled with crises that struck closer to home, the true weight of Serling’s vision re-emerged. Groupthink, paranoia, systemic injustice, and the consequences of unchecked fear, these weren’t abstract concepts confined to the Cold War era; they were ever-present realities that Serling had always intended to confront. The show's power lies in its ability to unmask the fragility of human behavior under pressure, its sharp critique of societal structures, and its unwavering demand for self-reflection.
While Barack Obama ultimately proved to be a disappointment for those who had hoped for bold, progressive change under the uplifting slogan “Yes We Can,” his presidency still marked a historic moment that exposed deep-seated tensions in American society. I recall the conspiracies swirling during his inauguration, with some speculating that Michelle Obama’s choice of a red dress was intentional, a precaution in case blood splatter from an assassin's bullet might stain it, driven by the fear and hostility toward Obama who was perceived to be a liberal, progressive Black man ascending to the presidency. These fears weren’t born of paranoia but from an awareness of the hostility and hatred that his presidency provoked within U.S. culture.
The signs of this animosity were glaringly evident. Racist placards at rallies depicted him as everything “un-American,” conflating contradictory ideologies, Manchurian candidate, communist, socialist, fascist, and even Islamist, into a single, nonsensical caricature. These attacks weren’t fringe; they were part of a burgeoning movement of right-wing reactionary fervor, bolstered by the Tea Party. The Tea Party quickly transformed what had once been uncoordinated outrage into a well-organized political force, fusing fringe conspiracies with more mainstream conservative grievances.
Through their slogans, extreme rhetoric, and relentless propaganda, the Tea Party galvanized a base around the idea that Obama’s presidency represented an existential threat to the “real” America. This notion of a “real” America, white, Christian, and deeply conservative, found echoes not just in domestic circles but even in international comparisons. Pat Buchanan, a stalwart of right-wing politics, famously wrote an article asking whether Vladimir Putin had more in common with American conservatives than Obama. Buchanan’s piece framed Putin as a defender of “traditional values” against the perceived liberal excesses embodied by Obama, further blurring the lines between nationalism, cultural conservatism, and geopolitical alignments.[2]
This kind of rhetoric amplified the already polarized atmosphere, portraying Obama not just as a political opponent but as an existential anomaly, a figure so far removed from the idealized vision of America that his presidency was viewed as a cultural and moral affront. This sentiment set the stage for an era where conspiratorial thinking and overt racism were no longer confined to the fringes but began infiltrating mainstream conservative discourse.
The birther conspiracy falsely claimed that Barack Obama was not born in the United States, suggesting he was born in Kenya or another foreign country, despite evidence he was born in Hawaii. This narrative was repeatedly promoted on shows like The O'Reilly Factor, Michael Savage's, and Rush Limbaugh's broadcasts. The conspiracy is linked to the broader climate of extremism and resentment, exemplified by Jim Adkisson's mass shooting at the Tennessee Valley Unitarian Universalist Church in 2008. Adkisson's manifesto reflected the same fear-driven rhetoric spread by these media figures. Police found books in his apartment, including Liberalism is a Mental Health Disorder by Michael Savage, Let Freedom Ring by Sean Hannity, and The O'Reilly Factor by Bill O'Reilly.[3]
Donald Trump played a central role in popularizing the birther movement. Beginning in 2011, he publicly demanded that Obama release his "long-form" birth certificate, fueling doubts about Obama's legitimacy. Trump repeatedly questioned Obama's citizenship, despite there being no credible evidence to support the conspiracy. His vocal promotion of the birther theory became a cornerstone of his early political identity, helping him attract a following among those disillusioned with Obama and skeptical of his presidency. It was at this moment that the U.S. needed the warning from Les Goodman in The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street, where he foresaw the dangers of fear and paranoia turning into a destructive mob mentality.
Trump’s victory in 2016 occurred against a backdrop of widespread conspiracy theories, fueled by sources like WikiLeaks, QAnon, and other false narratives that painted him as a champion against a corrupt establishment. These conspiracies, amplified by Trump’s rhetoric, deepened divisions and mistrust in the political system, much like the paranoia that spread on Maple Street. His rhetoric stoked a climate of distrust, leading to increased division, much like how the residents of Maple Street turned on each other without evidence. His immigration policies, such as the "zero tolerance" policy, portrayed immigrants as threats without justification, mirroring the paranoia and scapegoating in the episode.
During Trump’s rise, when he started pushing racist conspiracies like the birther movement, no one in power stepped up to say, “enough is enough.” Even during the 2016 primaries, his outrageous claims and inflammatory rhetoric were allowed with many brushing it off as just talk or part of the show. It’s a lot like the episode The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street, where the neighbors let wild accusations spiral out of control, even entertaining a child’s idea that aliens were behind everything. In the show, the aliens turned out to be real. But in the real world, the “aliens” aren’t creatures from another planet, they’re the dangerous ideas we create ourselves: prejudice, fear, and the urge to blame others. If we don’t stop these ideas early, which we did not, they grow and tear communities apart.
The Capitol riot of 2021 marked a dangerous tipping point, with Trump’s refusal to accept the 2020 election results leading to violence, echoing the destructive mob mentality. His disregard for truth, especially around the COVID-19 pandemic and election fraud, further mirrored the irrationality and fear escalation in Monsters Are Due. As Trump promised more divisive rhetoric and policies in a second term, the lessons of the episode, about the dangers of fear, division, and mob mentality, remained glaringly relevant, threatening to lead the nation further into chaos.
The global landscape has increasingly mirrored the fear-driven and divisive rhetoric seen in The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street, as conspiracy theories and populist movements have gained traction worldwide. The aftermath of events like the Syrian Revolution, the Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, and the COVID-19 pandemic has led to a rise in conspiracies that fuel political instability and distrust. Much like the unfounded fears in the Twilight Zone episode, these conspiracies have encouraged communities to turn against each other, often without evidence or justification.
In Europe, this paranoia has manifested in the rise of far-right groups and nationalist movements. In Greece, the Golden Dawn party gained prominence with its xenophobic and fascist rhetoric, feeding into fears of immigration and national identity. In Italy, right-wing populism under leaders like Matteo Salvini and Giorgia Meloni has capitalized on similar sentiments, with anti-immigrant policies and nationalist appeals. France has seen Marine Le Pen’s National Rally gain strength, using fear of Islamic terrorism, and immigration to rally support, while the Netherlands has witnessed the rise of Geert Wilders’ Party for Freedom, further fueling anti-immigrant and anti-EU sentiments.
At the same time, in the United States, Elon Musk’s support for right-wing populism, particularly his advocacy for the far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD) party, highlights how these divisive forces are extending beyond traditional political actors. The AfD has been linked to white nationalist and neo-Nazi elements, with its most radical factions promoting xenophobic, anti-Semitic, and anti-Islamic rhetoric, while some members have downplayed the significance of the Holocaust or even endorsed Nazi ideology. Musk’s support for such a party raises concerns about the spread of extremist views in mainstream politics. With the world staring down another Trump presidency, Musk’s influence and opinions may become more integrated into his administration.[4]
In today’s political climate, the lessons of The Twilight Zone feel more relevant than ever. What began as a brief moment of cultural reflection through marathons on networks like Syfy has evolved into a near-constant, iconic presence, where its message continues to resonate deeply. These marathons have transformed The Twilight Zone from a mere series to a pervasive cultural touchstone. It’s no longer just about watching isolated episodes; it's about understanding the broader implications of the fears, prejudices, and divisive forces at work, forces that are just as present in our world as they were on that fictional Maple Street.
The Twilight Zone was never just entertainment; it was a warning. Its narratives about paranoia, groupthink, and societal breakdown aren't confined to the realm of science fiction. They're evident in the political divisions of today, from the rise of nationalist movements to the rhetoric of fear-driven conspiracies. Rod Serling’s wisdom, particularly the powerful ending to Monsters Are Due on Maple Street, remains as sharp as ever. In his words:
“The tools of conquest do not necessarily come with bombs and explosions and fallout. There are weapons that are simply thoughts, attitudes, prejudices—to be found only in the minds of men. For the record, prejudices can kill and suspicion can destroy, and a thoughtless, frightened search for a scapegoat has a fallout all of its own for the children... the children yet unborn. And the pity of it is... that these things cannot be confined to... The Twilight Zone.”
These words resonate because the world we inhabit today still teeters on the edge of those same dangers. Prejudice, suspicion, and fear are not confined to an imaginary zone, they’re all around us. Misinformation has become a powerful way to divide people, with right-wing populism and syncretic politics using it to spread distrust, stir up fear, and target groups like LGBTQ+ people, religious or ethnic minorities, refugees, or those who are undocumented.
Just like the residents of Maple Street, who turned on each other based on unfounded fears, today’s society is vulnerable to a similar fate, manipulated by a constant stream of falsehoods, conspiracy theories, and divisive rhetoric. The ongoing devastation in Gaza serves as a stark reminder of how violence and suffering can become normalized. As we witness the rise of populist leaders who thrive on fear and scapegoating, we are reminded that, as Serling warned us, it is the next generation, the children, that will suffer the fallout. The cycle is never truly broken until we confront these toxic forces of suspicion, fear, scapegoating, and division, rather than allowing them to be leveraged by those seeking power, forcing us to suffer and relearn the same painful lessons over and over again.
[1] https://www.denofgeek.com/tv/the-twilight-zone-marathon-a-history-of-a-holiday-tradition/
[2] https://www.creators.com/read/pat-buchanan/12/13/is-putin-one-of-us
[3] https://www.huffpost.com/entry/a-murderers-bookshelf-han_b_115497
[4] https://www.welt.de/debatte/kommentare/article253215812/Urteil-Hoeckes-Revisionismus-ist-zu-Recht-ein-Fall-fuer-den-Verfassungsschutz.html?utm_source=chatgpt.com
Image 1: https://allevents.in/memphis/nye-twilight-zone-marathon-brunch/200025887122243
Image 2: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oPOoEQ2vw7
Image 3: https://www.facebook.com/100063589059248/videos/the-twilight-zone-1x22-the-monsters-are-due-on-maple-street/1214318911920543/
Image 3: various images gathered by author
Image 4: https://www.bbc.com/news/election-us-2016-37381452
Image 5: https://www.facebook.com/100063589059248/videos/the-twilight-zone-1x22-the-monsters-are-due-on-maple-street/1214318911920543/
Image 6: https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/article/2024/jul/29/republicans-trump-mass-deportation-immigration
Image 7: various images gathered by author