The Brunching Shuttlecocks Features

My friends, it is becoming increasingly clear, after long months of struggle, that 1997 is not what we had wanted. If you're like most of us, you looked upon the coming of this so-called "new" year with hope and optimism. A change was promised and we believed.

I remember how, upon the eve of this year, celebrations were held throughout the nation. Some even went so far as to create careful lists of how they might expect to improve their lives in the upcoming, hopeful era. And when 1997 was set into place, it seemed that one could not walk down the street without hearing someone express hope that this would, at last, be a "happy" new year.

What fools we were.

As it turns out, we were cruelly deceived. Only a blind idiot or a pawn of those who control these matters would question that 1997 has been, in all important respects, no different from the much-despised 1996.

The first disappointment came on the very first day of this year, with the arrival of January. Historically, through the seemingly endless succession of years under which we have lived, January has been a cruel and cold month, despised in the arrival and loathed in the memory. Many held cautious optimism that perhaps, with this change of year, we would at last be rid of January forever. Some felt it certain.

Sadly, our idealism was not vindicated. January came as usual, with no apologies or explanations from those who supported the current year. And, as we were to find out, this was to be the standard mode.

Months were divided into weeks with no more thought for special circumstances or personal rights than in previous years. Spring only arrived after we could stand no more winter, and was quickly replaced by the hot and harsh summer we are now enduring. While no official pronouncements are being made, word on the street has it that within weeks autumn will be declared, and the dread harvest season will begin. Flowers and plants will be stuck down in their prime, cold winds will blow, and the very leaves on the trees will turn to the color of blood. All those who remember previous autumns cannot help but feel a chill in anticipation of their return.

My friends. My comrades. Our course of action is clear. We cannot be expected to endure the horrors of 1997 forever. We must take up arms and end the scourge that has entered our lives. We must trample the current year beneath our righteous, freedom-loving feet and destroy it completely. Though it may take literally months, I feel certain that eventually this cruel year will be no more, and can be replaced with a new year, a year that will live up to the hopes we have so long harbored.

And then, my friends, things will truly be different.

More by Lore Sjöberg Back to The Shuttlecocks Homepage