About March


March is named after Mars, the Roman god of war as it was the month in which the military campaigning season got under way after winter.

The expression “mad as a March hare” dates back to 1529. It refers to the wild behaviour of male hares during the mating season in March.

According to the oldest Roman calendars, one year was ten months long, beginning in March and ending in December. It may sound crazy, but you can still see traces of this old system in our modern calendar: because December was the tenth month, it was named for the number ten in Latin (decem), just like September was named for seven (septem). January and February were just two nameless months called winter.

The saying “beware the Ides of March” .? On the Roman calendar, the midpoint of every month was known as the Ides. The Ides of March fell on March 15th. This day was supposed to correlate with the first full moon of the year and marked by religious ceremonies, but thanks to Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar we know it for another reason. In 44 BC, a seer told Julius Caesar that his downfall would come no later than the Ides of March. Caesar ignored him, and when the fated day rolled around he joked with the seer, “The Ides of March have come.” The seer replied, “Aye, Caesar; but not gone.” Caesar continued on to a senate meeting at the Theatre of Pompey, and was summarily murdered by as many as 60 conspirators.

As you can see history was written first for the Northern Hemisphere.


The Chronicles V – Mormons


The Church of the Latter Day Saints, commonly known as Mormons, is very active in Mozambique. Snot nosed barely adult boys walk around with a name tag and the title of Elder. It is not only a paradox but is also pathetic. If they get into the internet café before I do my chance of getting a free computer is Zero. I think they are re-typing the whole Book of Mormon. I get a computer two days out of five. Back to the virus, sure enough my stick has something called a Trojan. Kills the auto open function and God knows what else. I have no choice but to use my stick. I had seen a vehicle that belongs to a mine clearing company in Mozambique; it had their email address on it as well. I write them a letter. Risking getting blown up is far better than the fucking bottom end of the construction business. This takes a lot of time, Mozambique connections are truly African. No one bothered to get back to me on that either. With all the attempts to get out and make a better life failing, my mood was getting worse and worse. I get more and more angry, drink more.


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