The Original Erisian Calendar
The original Erisian calendar was much
different than the
one we use today.
first, the Five Seasons were the mundane Fall, Winter, Spring and Summer with
the addition of the Season of Disorder, which was a nicely discontinuous
season during which the four seasons changed into each other.
As are all things, the actual keeping track of
was personal, up to the discretion (or lack thereof) of the individual
The first chilly snap in
the middle of Summer was the first sign of trouble. The more robust
didn't notice the cold (or, at least, claimed not to; a lot
of them were converted worshippers of Mars and hadn't managed to beat the
machismo thing yet [it was sad; they stood there in their surf jams shivering,
complaining about the terrible heat and laughing at the people strolling by in
parkas]), and continued merrily counting the days of Summer. The more tentative
brethren and sistren marked it down as the first day of Disorder, while others
considered it to be Fall 1 (a couple of Chicken Little types jumped right on
over to Winter 5, incidentally).
Well, it was all very exciting for the next
couple of days, with many a ``Hail
Eris'' and high five as Discordian dates began to
diverge more and more markedly from each other. By what we would now call
the Season of Bureaucracy (we think; the dates we've managed to uncover
range from Summer 87 to Fall 3 [going whichever way 'round you care to]),
there weren't any two Discordians who agreed on the date.
One intrepid Pope, who was getting tired of
having one-man holyday
parties on the 5th of each month (and who was likewise tired of having to
count days whilst fermenting batches of his Golden Apple Hard Cider)
beseeched Goddess, standing with his five gold-bound copies of the
Principia Discordia like Charlton
Heston come down from the mountain, crying unto Heaven:
``Lady of Discord, what is the date?''
Eris appeared in a beatific vision, seated at
Her Breakfast Nook, sipping Her Coffee with
Saint Gulik in His manifestation as Juan
Valdez. She checked Her Calendar Watch, and said, with dulcet tones
which rang down from beyond the Firmament --
She then reached over a delicate hand, clad in
the purest samite, and
pulled down the interdimensional shade, murmuring (perhaps; the exact
wording, being utterly unimportant, has of course been the topic of heated
debate for centuries among philosophers) ``Can't even finish a cup of
coffee around here...''
The Pope, indulging in a rare display of good
sense, promptly filled in
the dates around Aftermath 12 and passed it off as the Word of Goddess.
Since he didn't say that all the words were Goddess' and nobody
thought to ask which one was Her's, he perpetrated quite the
effective hoax (and also cleaned up by selling Official Word of Goddess
desk calendars, making him the first Discordian Profit). In his memory
(whoever he was), we maintain the calendar he made up.
Do you believe that?