Eliot is a Petty-Minded Little Creep

However evocative "April is the cruelest month" might be (and I do like the line), I've always thought that Eliot had got it wrong. February is the cruelest month. April is not. In fact, I even threw an Eliot-Was-Wrong party last February because I'm fixated on this image of April as the cruelest month and how very wrong it is. Well, I think that Eliot is tired of me second-guessing him. It's April now and snowing. Snowing hard. Almost blizzarding. I picture Eliot in the after-life, sidling up to who or whatever controls the weather and paying this person or thing a bribe just to prove me wrong. Well, February had more snow in it and less sun, so it still wins the "cruelest month" title. Eliot can still kiss my ass.