The month of August is named for Caesar Augustus. "Augustus" was a title which, in Latin, means "worthy of being worshipped," which Caesar Augustus was not, and neither is the month named after him.
Not much seems to happen in August. It's so hot and muggy in Washington that people clear out of town. Since the early days of the republic, the members of Congress have taken recess in August figuring that it was better to be back home, wherever that was, than to be in a city that was mostly a reclaimed swamp.
The news dies down in August, and if anything does manage to happen, it's usually something bad. The first atomic bomb was dropped in August. The Soviets invaded Czechoslovakia in August. The Sonny and Cher show began in August.
T.S. Eliot called April "the cruelest month," but he was flat wrong. August wins that title hands down. Dan Plotz:
August is the vast sandy wasteland of American culture. Publishers stop releasing books. Movie theaters are clogged with the egregious action movies that studios wouldn't dare release in June. Television is all reruns (or worse—new episodes of Sex and the City).
I'll still be blogging in August, however, as soon as I think of something to say.
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