And now for something completely different...

Let me paint a picture for you…

Each year, you begin to notice it. Summer has only just started, for God’s sake, but the June sky is no longer lightening. The Longest Day passes and you think nothing of it. It’s still light at 10pm and the birds are still singing when the Friday Night film premieres on cable… the days are hazy, warm, taken up with drinking beer or destroying your top layer of skin cells whilst sunbathing in the garden. July passes in the same lazy style.

And then it’s August. You’re sitting outside at your favourite café or bar, or riding home on the train—and you think, Hmm. I’m sure it used to be light at this time. But it’s August, and the festivals are on; the air is warm. A word is trying to force itself into your consciousness. “BL…” it whispers, “BLA—“ but you’re not listening, because someone hot in a skimpy top just walked past.

September comes. The children go back to school and your journey to work or university doubles in time because of the gridlock. No matter. It’s a beautiful crisp Autumn day. There’s a fresh feel to the air, but the leaves are still green. You listen to the radio in your care, and scrutinise the number plate in front: MW02 BLA. A vague sadness creeps over you. Something is gnawing at the edges of your memory; something dark and infinite and crushing. Whatever could it be? The lights turn green ahead. You cast the thought aside and continue on your way.

It’s October. “I can’t believe how quickly it’s getting dark!” your friend cries one afternoon, shocked at it being dark at seven. “And just think,” they say, with the vaguest hint of schadenfreude, “the clocks go back on Sunday.”

Oh, damn. It’s that time. It’s the Evil time of year, but it doesn’t truly strike you, not really, not until November when it’s 5pm and you’re on the motorway, cursing the driving rain and the fact that you can’t fecking see a damned thing because of all the…the… BLACK.

Yes, the BLACK is back! It has triumphantly crept up on us once more, causing BLACK havoc with road traffic accidents and muggings and depression and pain and it’s even happier because it can only continue to get BLACKER and BLACKER until the 22nd of December, when it will be so BLACK that you won’t be able to see anything outside by 3pm.

And the worst thing? The worst thing is that though summer just could not wait to be over, the BLACK shall remain with us until March and boy, are we all going to suffer in the all-encompassing and crushing BLACK until then.

IT IS THE RETURN OF THE BLACK TANK OF MISERY, REDUCING THE SKYSCRAPER OF HAPPINESS TO RUBBLE, EXPLODING THE MIDGETS OF MIRTH, CRUSHING THE FLOWERS IN THE FIELDS OF DESPAIR!

BLACK! BLACK! BLAAAAAAAAACK!

(That Becky; she totally doesn’t suffer from SAD, you know.)

Postblackscript: Already posted by me elsewhere, but deserving of further rantage.