If You Don’t Like My Story, Write Your Own.
The world and the posts are out of order. No February. It's the second day of March. We are marching on and on and on …
This was indeed a longer February. Last Saturday was a day that only exists every four years. Our planet is no clockwork. Its' journey around the sun does not follow any schedule. But to press days and weeks and months and years into a more exact time-table mankind invented leap-years.
Or as the great encycopedia witch Wiki Pedia once wrote in her letter addressed at the sleepwalkers of Santa Cruz…
A leap year (also known as an intercalary year or bissextile year) is a calendar year that contains an additional day (or, in the case of a lunisolar calendar, a month) added to keep the calendar year synchronized with the astronomical year or seasonal year. Because astronomical events and seasons do not repeat in a whole number of days, calendars that have the same number of days in each year drift over time with respect to the event that the year is supposed to track. By inserting (called intercalating in technical terminology) an additional day or month into the year, the drift can be corrected. A year that is not a leap year is a common year.
That's one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind.
Read the signs. Read the signs. Read the signs.
Leap days always meant and always will mean bad luck. Remember my words.
But don't kill the prophet. He is only the messenger.
"Láthspell" I name you, Ill-news; and ill news is an ill guest they say, Bromford Stormcrow.
'Come up here, animal!' I yell down the elevator shaft. 'Come up here and talk straight to my face!'
'Go to bed, dude', the llama says calmly. 'Go to rest.'
And the fortune cookie says,
You may have missed something.
Today is Monday, the 2nd of March 2020.
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