Rummaging Through Old Emails

As I exited my ramshackle apartment this morning I was greeted by a breeze. There is a specific kind of breeze which is filled with all things that are wholesome. A kind of breeze which is a tribute of all of nature's vitality. The kind of breeze which makes fabric softener commercials possible. This was not that kind of breeze.
Oh it was balmy enough to be sure. It certainly was gentle enough to pleasantly ripple the grass and budding branches of the trees and coax a sound which could be perceived as a sigh of contentment from them. What separated this almost thoroughly pleasant breeze from the aforementioned ad campaign variety of wind was the unsubtle effluvium of it as it wafted over my olfactory nerves. Oh yes this poor breeze had been imbued with the powerful aroma of fecal matter. And so springtime has come to DeKalb.
Yes that gracious time of year so lauded in prose, poetry, and song. The time of year that we have led to believe was designated exclusively towards the gentle pursuits of appreciating flowers, flying kites, and capturing animals having sex (all animals) on videotape for later dissemination on public television. Hats off everyone to Marty Sauffer our nation's premiere wildlife pornographer.
They say "Spring has sprung." They generally say it in the kind of cheerful manner that makes you think they have been spray painting inside with all the windows and doors shut. I put this question to you. Where did spring come by this incredible ambulatory gift. Who gave this insolent season the right to spring around like a rave kid with a double dose of ecstasy? Where the hell in short does spring come from?
I know this answer, in fact I divined it this very morning as I stepped out of my abode, but in the way of so many things you are going to have to listen to a bunch of inane drivel before I give you the revelation you have been searching for.
I was very close when I said "Where the hell does spring come from?"
You see the Greeks believed that spring was a result of Persephone's return from the realm of hades. Persephone's mother was the goddess of plants and agriculture. Becoming clinically depressed at Persephone's marriage to the lord of the underworld she drinks, smokes, and watches "her shows" to the exclusion of all else. This vicious depraved cycle has only one bright spot. Every year Persephone comes to visit and her mother makes a desperate attempt to look like she can hold it together. Metaphorically speaking she dusts the curio cabinet, empties the ashtrays under the couch, and turns over the cushion on her recliner so you can't see the pronounced ass groove in it.... in short .....spring. All in all this, though not an accurate portrayal of how we get spring, is a very good effort. Could we really expect any less from the culture which brought us both geometry and sodomy?
We now come to the pagan conception of spring. They believe the earth is our mother. Without getting too anatomical they believe that spring is just another of the mother's "cycles". They of course would celebrate this momentous occasion with rituals designed to placate the goddess, and insure that everything would be cool next year. These rituals of course required people to loose any number of things. Their blood, virginity, dignity etc....This is of course a neato way to explain things, except for the fact that these religions died out hundreds of years ago. We technically shouldn't have had spring for all that time. There are those who say they carry on these ancient traditions, but it's well accepted that these people are posers and the mystical equivalent of Japanese tourists.
Today we have people who espouse the belief that seasons change in correlation to the attitude and revolution of the earth as we orbit the sun. I'm not even going to dignify this preposterous idea by taking the time to refute it.
As everyone knows (at least here in DeKalb) Spring occurs due to a curious chemical reaction which takes place in the digestive tracts of farm animals, and this also explains the pungent scent of what is normally refered to as a spring breeze. Thank you and good night.

Jeremy Miller
P.H.D. in Irrelevance