Ours is not to cast judgment upon Bill Maher's choice of costume, nor, for that matter, to say what constitutes an appropriate waiting period before a freak celebrity death becomes fair game for laughs—after all, 40 years still hasn't made it possible to show up to a Hollywood Halloween soirée as a "decapitated Jayne Mansfield" without hearing at least a couple tsks of derision from offended partygoers. Still, if Maher simply had to go to the Playboy Mansion (or whatever monster bimbo bazaar he opted to attend this year) dressed as Steve Irwin with a stingray barb hanging out of his chest, one would have hoped he would have more fully embraced the "tasteless mockery of untimely, recent tabloid deaths" theme by throwing Al Franken in a short, blonde wig, giving him an oversized, prop pill-bottle marked "METHADONE," and introducing everyone to his "bunkmate in celebrity heaven, Daniel Smith."