T.S. Eliot was wrong; he said April was the cruelest¹. Well, what does he know? He was a poet², for crying out loud, a notoriously flaky bunch, not a meteorologist. April is not now, nor has it ever been, the cruelest month. It’s not even in the top five. No matter what he said or how well he said it.
April is hope and renewal; it’s Easter and April Fool’s Day and National Humor month and Library Week. Daily high temperatures (in my neck of the woods, anyway) climb from 57ºF to 68ºF over the course of it. The days get longer, too, bringing nearly 14 magical hours of daylight — such a welcome sight for sore eyes — there at the end. Best of all, April is the gateway to May — the most glorious month of the year. Does any of that sound cruel?
You want cruel? Look out a window or open the door; January’s out there and it is beastly. The trees are bare. The landscape is bleak. Icicles dangle, winter’s own Swords of Damocles. Bleak and cheerless and bitterly cold, that’s January. The word comes from the Latin Januarius ‘(month) of Janus’, the Roman god who presided over doorways and beginnings. Yeah? Well, we need a better, more descriptive name. How about Ohgodno, from the Latin Ne Iterum, ‘not again?’
This is not the time to be starting a new year, boys and girls. Not the time, at all. We should be rolling bandages and stockpiling soup, hoarding firewood. We should pack up the babies and grab the old ladies — to quote the inimitable Mr. Neil Diamond. What we shouldn’t be doing is dropping balls in Times Square. C’mon, snap out of it.
By the way, how about a nice round of applause for my new copyright line? It’s making its 2014 debut. I remembered to change it, yay. Oh, right, and Happy New Year :o)
Copyright © 2014 Publikworks
¹Although he used the British spelling: cruellest. Granted, it looks meaner with two Ls, but, nope, still wrong.