“In my noir world, the sticky glare of summer has no place…”

~Anton Szandor LaVey

The seasons turn and once again the Autumnal Equinox is upon Me.

For this brief 24-hour period, night and day will be equals. But then, nothing in nature is truly equal, and night is clearly the superior of the two.

I remember a report from a few years ago that said more and more animals were becoming nocturnal in order to avoid interacting with humans. What a splendid idea! Count Me among the animals. I will smile with glee as night reclaims the sky from her belligerent brother, day.

It is not that I hate summer. There are plenty of selling points for the warmest season, not the least of which is seeing all of the beautiful people in less clothing. Unfortunately, the beautiful people are few and far between, and even when I am fortunate to stumble across them, they inevitably open their mouths and instantly remind Me that I prefer solitude. The heat and the bugs do not do summer any favors either. I respect the bugs, living their best bug lives, surviving against all odds and achieving their full potential. But when My blood is what feeds them, we reach an impasse. The heat, on the other hand, has no redeeming qualities.

There are some things I truly enjoy about the summer months. I love to swim, and as much as I enjoy an invigorating cold shower or polar bear plunge, swimming is much more pleasurable in warmer waters. I am also an aficionado of Tiki culture—or whatever the speech police prefer it was called these days. Tiki is made for summer, with its cheerful, exotic music, sweet, fruity cocktails, and lightweight, bombastic attire. I would be a fool to embrace Tiki and ignore summer. But even a float down a lazy river, with the pleasing tunes of Martin Denny in My ear and a cold Mai Tai in My hand, cannot make Me love summer.

No, give Me autumn.

Give Me colorful leaves, crisp air, crackling fires, and long nights—in all their deep, mysterious beauty, free from those with weak constitutions and thin blood.

Give Me the smell of cinnamon in the air, fresh baked pies, and room temperature Märzenbier.

And there is something else about autumn that calls to Me: the looming spectre of death.

This time of year, death takes hold over the entire Northern Hemisphere. Trees lose their leaves—after a breathtaking display I simply cannot get enough of—eventually leaving behind beautiful gnarled skeletons, which creak and groan in a cemetery symphony during the quiet, peaceful nights. The aforementioned bloodsuckers slowly but surely die, a new generation to replace them the following year. Even the grass begins to decay, saving Me from the tedious chore of mowing My lawn every week in order to avoid fines from those who only “protect and serve” themselves.

And then there are the humans, who before hiding themselves away for hibernation, throw a gigantic party in the name of death. They call it Hallowe’en, and it is magical. Truly one of the only popular holidays I can fully get behind.

Come Hallowe’en, horror movie marathons dominate the television stations and streaming services; everyone seeks a thrill through a scare. The momentary adrenaline rush is probably the only time any of them feel alive during a calendar year, insensitive demoralized louts that they are.

Children, one of the only tolerable blocks of humanity, don their masks and embrace their mischievous side, traveling door-to-door demanding treats, or threatening tricks. Woe to any asshole who doesn’t deliver the goods. They may just find the rotting remnants of eggs on their doors and cars, their mailbox in disarray, and their image shamed on social media. And justifiably so. Children can be so delightfully cruel.

Adults during Hallowe’en, tend to dress up in the sexiest version of their favorite horror characters or pop culture archetypes, and throw parties which quickly devolve into drunken orgies. The so-called “walk of shame” the next day is always a wonderful sight to behold. Who knew clown makeup was so hard to wash off?

The best part of Hallowe’en though, is finding out who people truly are. Maybe it is the masks and makeup that allow them to embrace their dark sides, their inner nature. Or maybe it is just the impending harvest and the death of summer that causes them to let loose. Whatever the case, the masks they wear on Hallowe’en are a better glimpse at their true selves than any Instagram post they shove down My throat in the summer. As someone who embraces His dark side all year long, it pleases Me to see the amateurs at least attempt it one night of the year.

Beneath the thin veneer of fun disguised through terror, is death. Hallowe’en is traditionally viewed as one of two days the veil between the worlds of the living and dead is thinnest—the other being Walpurgisnacht at the end of April. In ancient times, people would leave offerings for their deceased ancestors and any malevolent spirits which may come poking around. Even the costumes were originally designed to help humans blend-in with the efreets and ghouls who were free to roam the surface during the harvest. And with the world itself seemingly dying, it is easy to see why these superstitious apes thought so.

Even the harvest itself is a veritable holocaust of the fields. Grain and fruit laboriously tended for half of the year is cut down right at its prime to feed the masses. Animals bred for no other purpose than sustenance are slaughtered en masse to provide meat for the coming winter. This is perhaps the closest modern humans get to the natural world, as they follow her lead, destroying everything in order to build anew in a few months.

I love life. I squeeze every little pleasure I can out of every second I have. However, as much as I consider Myself a separate species from these lumbering cattle called humans, I am still very much a man. As such, I am plagued with the same awareness of My own mortality they are. And so, death looming over My corner of the world this time of year, serves as a grandiose momento mori. It fills Me with a vigor, a passion to live loud and live well. Which is why I do not hide away in the colder months. No, this time of year I am outdoors more than any other. The colder it becomes, the more everything slows down around Me, the more active I become. I am a vampire absorbing the cast off energy of the previous seasons and using it to fuel Me towards whatever ends I envision.

Autumn is upon Me. The night is reclaiming the sky at this very moment. I am already feeling more alive than yesterday.

As the world dies… I RISE!