I have had enough of the Gregorian Calendar.
We've had it for 2011 and a bit years (must remember to check this
statement as I think we've only had it since 1200 or something and that we had a different one previously where the seventh month was September and the eighth October. Somewhere along the line, a couple of extra months were thrown in - some sort of 20% extra free deal - and we went from 36.5 day-months to a variety of 28, 29, 30 and 31 dayers. Close brackets. ).
We've had it for quite some time, perhaps a millennium, and let's face it: it simply does not work.
December. Now December's a good month. You've got your presents, your parties and your early pay-day so you can concentrate on cash-splashing without a care in the world. The climax is the 31st of the month when auld acquaintances are not forgot along with the rest of the words. Everything's hunky, dory and kosher as Christmas and the world is your oyster.
Then bang. It's January and everyone's walking around in a daze. The hangover wears off around the sixth and still everyone walks around in a daze. Some people try to lessen the pain by employing the Patented Evangelical Rich Method (the PERM) which attacks the worst of hangovers with a cigarette, believing that this takes you down to the lowest attainable point of the day and the only way is up from there. The January equivalent is the detox: remove all possible pleasures for the first fortnight and then it's all D:Ream and Things Can Only Get Better. Detoxes are like PERMs: they only work for the tiny majority and make everyone look terrible. For the majority the hangover cigarette, along with the January Detox, only makes promises of worse to come; swapping booze for lettuce does nothing more than make a bad month worse.
The month drags its feet more sullenly and sulkily than a teenager with a curfew, no lift and no money. Rather than doing the decent thing and voluntarily sacrificing a few of its days for the benefit of another month, it obstinately insists on clinging on to its maximum quota. This month is no indecisive February, the Libran of all months (shall I have 28 days? Yes! No! 29! Hang on, I want 28 back) but a pig-headed bitch who insists on maximising pain and refusing to budge. January is Margaret Thatcher.
The time is ripe for change. It is time to rid ourselves of the shackles of Gregor and establish our own MG.Cian calendar. Whilst being well known for my entirely radical, edgy and unpredictable nature - a maverick, if you will - I do realise that we need to operate within the realms of reality. I will not, for instance, champion the abolition of Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday as having a week of Saturdays and Sundays would do little for our productivity and would antagonise our Jewish brethren and their Muslim fraternity as they would be the only ones working, half the time. It would also mean headaches in the calendar-production industry as they would be robbed of the handy letters of M, T, W, T and F which currently keep the SS apart.
My proposal is simple yet brilliant. From 2013, Chinese Year of the Magpie-chasing Black Cat, we will adopt the following order of events:
June,
February,
March,
April,
May,
January,
July,
August,
September,
October,
November,
December.
Auld acquaintances will continue not to be forgotten and the hangovers will fade the very next day to reveal early summer has arrived. The cold days of December, tempered by the festivities, will be immediately followed by the t-shirt friendly days of early June.
Detoxing will be a pleasure as people soak up the early summer rays and fill themselves with vitamin D on the banks of the Thames, the Severn and the Manchester Ship.
Farmers will delight in the bright sunshine which accompanies their early morning starts and the whole economy will be more productive and happy.
Profits will soar in the June sales and the double dip, triple tumble recession will be a distant memory.
January will follow May and jumpers will hastily be donned as the late spring days turn to winter. The French Open will be an interesting affair as the ball boys provide between-games shelter from the sun in week one and then from the snow and rain in week two. Snowmen will be built on Midsummers Day and some of Shakespeare's finest output will require some editing. Druids will need to dress up warmer when dancing barefoot inside their Ugg boots around Stonehenge.
The great thing about newJanuary? July is fast behind it and so everyone can look forward to the long summer holidays which are just round the corner.
Winter in June (take note, Bomb the Bass, I sense a re-write coming) will be a pleasure, attract tourism and be the resolution to all our problems.
I cannot believe that this has not been thought of previously. Sometimes the simplest answers are just staring you in the face.
We've had it for 2011 and a bit years (must remember to check this
statement as I think we've only had it since 1200 or something and that we had a different one previously where the seventh month was September and the eighth October. Somewhere along the line, a couple of extra months were thrown in - some sort of 20% extra free deal - and we went from 36.5 day-months to a variety of 28, 29, 30 and 31 dayers. Close brackets. ).
We've had it for quite some time, perhaps a millennium, and let's face it: it simply does not work.
December. Now December's a good month. You've got your presents, your parties and your early pay-day so you can concentrate on cash-splashing without a care in the world. The climax is the 31st of the month when auld acquaintances are not forgot along with the rest of the words. Everything's hunky, dory and kosher as Christmas and the world is your oyster.
Then bang. It's January and everyone's walking around in a daze. The hangover wears off around the sixth and still everyone walks around in a daze. Some people try to lessen the pain by employing the Patented Evangelical Rich Method (the PERM) which attacks the worst of hangovers with a cigarette, believing that this takes you down to the lowest attainable point of the day and the only way is up from there. The January equivalent is the detox: remove all possible pleasures for the first fortnight and then it's all D:Ream and Things Can Only Get Better. Detoxes are like PERMs: they only work for the tiny majority and make everyone look terrible. For the majority the hangover cigarette, along with the January Detox, only makes promises of worse to come; swapping booze for lettuce does nothing more than make a bad month worse.
The month drags its feet more sullenly and sulkily than a teenager with a curfew, no lift and no money. Rather than doing the decent thing and voluntarily sacrificing a few of its days for the benefit of another month, it obstinately insists on clinging on to its maximum quota. This month is no indecisive February, the Libran of all months (shall I have 28 days? Yes! No! 29! Hang on, I want 28 back) but a pig-headed bitch who insists on maximising pain and refusing to budge. January is Margaret Thatcher.
The time is ripe for change. It is time to rid ourselves of the shackles of Gregor and establish our own MG.Cian calendar. Whilst being well known for my entirely radical, edgy and unpredictable nature - a maverick, if you will - I do realise that we need to operate within the realms of reality. I will not, for instance, champion the abolition of Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday as having a week of Saturdays and Sundays would do little for our productivity and would antagonise our Jewish brethren and their Muslim fraternity as they would be the only ones working, half the time. It would also mean headaches in the calendar-production industry as they would be robbed of the handy letters of M, T, W, T and F which currently keep the SS apart.
My proposal is simple yet brilliant. From 2013, Chinese Year of the Magpie-chasing Black Cat, we will adopt the following order of events:
June,
February,
March,
April,
May,
January,
July,
August,
September,
October,
November,
December.
Auld acquaintances will continue not to be forgotten and the hangovers will fade the very next day to reveal early summer has arrived. The cold days of December, tempered by the festivities, will be immediately followed by the t-shirt friendly days of early June.
Detoxing will be a pleasure as people soak up the early summer rays and fill themselves with vitamin D on the banks of the Thames, the Severn and the Manchester Ship.
Farmers will delight in the bright sunshine which accompanies their early morning starts and the whole economy will be more productive and happy.
Profits will soar in the June sales and the double dip, triple tumble recession will be a distant memory.
January will follow May and jumpers will hastily be donned as the late spring days turn to winter. The French Open will be an interesting affair as the ball boys provide between-games shelter from the sun in week one and then from the snow and rain in week two. Snowmen will be built on Midsummers Day and some of Shakespeare's finest output will require some editing. Druids will need to dress up warmer when dancing barefoot inside their Ugg boots around Stonehenge.
The great thing about newJanuary? July is fast behind it and so everyone can look forward to the long summer holidays which are just round the corner.
Winter in June (take note, Bomb the Bass, I sense a re-write coming) will be a pleasure, attract tourism and be the resolution to all our problems.
I cannot believe that this has not been thought of previously. Sometimes the simplest answers are just staring you in the face.
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