What would we Brits do without having the weather to talk or moan about, eh? (Poem)

By Stanley Collymore

Why do we needlessly keep cherishing the seasons in Britain

when in actuality there’s no difference nowadays between

any of them? I say this because I can well remember

the time when there was a clear distinction, let’s

say, between Spring and Winter but woefully

those days are long gone; and when, pray

tell, can you honestly remember or else vividly recall

when we all had good old-fashioned pristine snow

and lots of it on Christmas Day and the rest of

the time too, which to every one of us who,

overall, fortunately and specifically knew

and actually felt that it was most aptly

and becoming in the circumstances

to be attributed and labelled as a

cyclic change and winter time.

Instead, our current and allegedly winter-weather as

well as Winter itself have decidedly morphed into

rather poor facsimiles of essentially and quite

strikingly what was formerly Spring, while

Spring itself has bafflingly been radically

transformed into a drab, dreary, grimly

snowy-white and the evident facade

for a conventional winter-type scenario where, not

infrequent to see, hail storms, snow downpours

and all manner of icy cold and gusty weather

profusely bombards our British landscape

with total impunity, and in this process

ridiculously fashioning in the making

a decidedly Artic-type environment

that in numerous respects, and for

me in all frankness is manifestly

less exciting or in any weighty

sense uplifting weather-wise

as one could pragmatically

expect to find in Iceland

let alone in Greenland.

For all that this climatic commotion with its comparative

attendant and, for me, debilitating anxiety and infernal

annoyance basically does, is to strongly emphasize

the accustomed and exasperating British social

custom and culture of incessantly talking at

every stipulated probability or concocted

opportunity afforded to them, for most

Brits to rather garrulously talk about the bloody weather,

whether in standard, as well improvised or intuitively

manufactured conversations. Seemingly, the only

clear thing in a country, the United Kingdom,

where the majority of people either visibly

with a distinct apathetic attitude towards

or a perceptible and at best minimalist

opinion, or convincingly none at all,

on most things regularly; however

when it absolutely involves the

British weather, none the less

conspicuously and precisely

have no reticence at all in

strongly exhibiting their

longsuffering and more

consensual unanimity.

© Stanley V. Collymore

27 October 2017.

Author’s Remarks:

Essentially while this is a tongue-in-the cheek article and poem there’s nevertheless more than a grain of salt in relation to the truth and about what I’m saying. And whether one believes that the kinds of unpredictable weather patterns that we’ve been experiencing for some time is as a direct consequence of global warming that itself stems from the inconsiderate and even malicious actions brought about by human activities or are simply the result of a cyclical situation that has been going on for millennia and ever since this inhabited planet we live on and call Earth was created, or is a combination in greater or lesser form of these two things, is for every one of you who is all that bothered to make your own analytical judgement on.

Then, of course, there are the speculative suggestions that mankind, who has both been a general benefit as well as an infernal curse to this planet we call home while often quite arrogantly and most conveniently forgetting that there are other species of animals as well as other creatures that live here too and in most cases have been on Earth for far longer than Homo sapiens has been, have embarked on and even managed to utilize insidious means, these elements of human kind obsessed with their ludicrous and delusional notions of superiority coupled with a divine right to rule and control everyone and everything on this planet and just as idiotically feel themselves imbued with an unchallengeable right to the perceived concept of their own exclusivism in all matters, to effectively control the weather and malevolently use it for their own purposes and endeavours, is another bone of contention we apparently have to deal with.

Truthfully, I’ve no categorical proof that anything of the sort in respect of the weather is happening, but putting that aside and fully knowledgeable about the kind of people that this human scum are, I personally wouldn’t put anything past them.

Suffice to say that whoever does what or nothing at all to the weather there’s nothing that I can personally and on my own do about it nor want to idly speculate about for that matter. For I guess that in being basically a Brit what essentially I want to, and like others prefer to do, and specifically in my case when I’ve nothing better to do, is like all the rest of you, in one way or the other, to culturally moan about it.