He came. He saw. He ruined September.

by elleprose

During an evening scroll through Twitter, I came across this thumbstopper tweeted by Dictionary.com-  “Why we call this month September.” I paused. I didn’t have any clue as to why September is called September and I thought it was weird that I didn’t, being particularly fond of words and their origins. I opened the link and read on.

September, as etymology has it, derives from the Latin word ‘septem’ which translates to the number seven in English.

And then it occurred to me, “September isn’t the seventh month of the year, it’s the ninth!”

I scrolled to the end of the article. Julius Caesar was credited for reforming the calendar.

Agitated, I googled “Julius Caesar calendar change douche bag” to further investigate and clicked on the first link Google surfaced.

As the story goes, back in the day of Ancient Rome, the calendar began with March. This means that April was the second month, May the third month and so forth. So, at one time, September was the seventh month of the year. This discontented Julius Caesar, who arbitrarily appointed January to ring in the new year. (Okay, he was actually well-intentioned and revised it for the sake of precision between lunar and solar years, but that’s besides the point.)

He may have brought order to Rome and dated one of the babeliest babes of ancient history, but he did no such justice to calendar. C’mon, if you’re going to go through the hassle of reforming a medium through which we organize and perceive time for accuracy, get the names right dammit.

I know the world is laden with human folly and this nominal error is inconsequential, but it’s just so lazy on behalf of Caesar and the chumps of Rome. Why didn’t anyone adjust the names of the months accordingly? September is not quite September anymore. Neither are October, November, or December, who are also mislabeled.

And the worst part? There’s absolutely nothing I can do about it- except inveigh those in higher power in my underrated blog.

…but there’s also a funny part. They unintentionally punned; the number seven symbolizes perfection.