Samhain is that delightful time of year when the Celts decided to throw a bash for the dead, because why not invite a few ghosts to liven up the party?
It kicks off at sunset on Oct. 31 and wraps up 24 hours later, like a cosmic last call for the departed.
This merry shindig is the granddaddy of our modern Halloween.
Those crafty Celtic Pagans, in their infinite wisdom, thought it'd be a splendid idea to mark their New Year by ushering in the season of death. Because celebrating Happy New Year while staring down the barrel of winter's impending doom is quite the festive twist, isn't it?
On this special day, the Celts reckoned the veil between the living and the dead was as thin as a politician's promise. This convenient arrangement allowed the dearly departed to pop in for a cuppa and a chat. One can only imagine the awkward small talk.
Fast forward to today, and the meaning hasn't changed much. Modern pagans still celebrate with a host of rituals that would make your average accountant's head spin.
They dance (presumably not the Macarena), feast (on something other than microwaved ready-meals, one hopes), take nature walks (because being spiritual is about stepping in fox poo), and build altars to honour their ancestors.
These altars are a veritable smorgasbord of symbolism. Apples, pumpkins, and other autumnal produce are artfully arranged to represent the end of harvest. Skulls and skeletons are thrown in for good measure, lest anyone forget this is a partially dead party.
Family photos are added, turning the whole affair into a macabre version of grandma's mantelpiece.
And let's not forget the piece de resistance -- special Samhain bread! Because apparently, spirits get peckish too.
Roy Morgan has declared that a whopping 21 percent of Australians will be celebrating Halloween this year.
One can only imagine the carnage when these two groups collide at the local Woolworths, fighting over the last bag of fun-sized Mars bars.
But wait! There's a fly in the pumpkin soup.
It seems our Halloween spending is down $40 million from last year.
ARA CEO Paul Zahra attributes this to "softened discretionary spending habits in line with the cost-of-living crunch."
One might suggest it's because Australians have finally realised that paying $50 for a polyester superhero costume is, in fact, utterly bonkers.
Yet, like a zombie rising from the grave, Australians continue to "get into the spirit of these celebratory seasonal moments."
Forty-five percent will engage in trick-or-treating, presumably to teach children the valuable life lesson of accepting candy from strangers.
One can only hope this year's trend doesn't follow the Oppenheimer theme, lest we see hordes of faux-physicists roaming the streets, muttering about "becoming death, the destroyer of worlds."
And let's not forget our furry friends. Yes, because subjecting ourselves to this madness isn't enough, we must also humiliate our pets.
Petbarn, ever the opportunist, is offering everything from pumpkin hats to dragon costumes for dogs. Because you can really tell how much I respect my furry friend by making them waddle around the neighbourhood in a costume that turns them into a mythical fire-breathing lizard.
In conclusion, it seems that despite economic woes, we in Australia are determined to celebrate this discount Celtic festival with all the enthusiasm of a drunken leprechaun at a potato famine.
Trick or treat, indeed.
The real trick is on our bank accounts, and the treat? Well, that's for the retailers, isn't it?