Not quite All Saints' Day, Halloween in Russia has long been seen not as a mystical or religious holiday, but as a "Brazilian" carnival: costumes, makeup, pumpkins, gatherings, and fun. For some, it is a foreign cultural model associated with American pop culture; for others, it is a ready-made and understandable script that one can simply adopt. And attempts to restrict it only increase interest and turn the holiday into a sort of gesture of disagreement. But behind the talk of a "foreign" holiday lies a deeper problem of a shortage of fish. In Russia, there are fewer and fewer reasons to unite outside of family, work, and friendship circles: as neighbors, colleagues, residents of the same city, and invented communities. At the same time, initiative, innovation, and attempts to invent something of your own are not particularly encouraged. Therefore, Halloween becomes a strange but necessary copy of a social function: it gives people a ready-made opportunity to meet, make new connections, and at least temporarily, create a shared event. People cannot be blamed for this. When it is hard to implement your own ideas, it is natural to use what has already been invented, even if the result looks like a strange copy-paste. Halloween is not such a huge holiday, but it is an opportunity not just to drink, but at least to do something with yourself in a world of gloom, the suppression of initiatives, and even more so, the suppression of ideas and dreams that so confidently occupy our entire cultural space.