Inside this week | Spring doesn’t exist

It’s that time of year again. So many mugs, so many mugs! When will they ever learn – don’t put your winter coat in storage until May. I’ve said it a million times, and I’ll say it again: Denmark is a country of just two seasons: winter and summer.  


As the editor of this rag, this time of year is particularly painful. Every other piece submitted mentions spring in the opening sentence. They deliver the copy in advance on a pleasant day, but by the time the issue hits the streets, it’s snowing again.  


Our music listings writer is the worst culprit. He’s weather-obsessed (yeah, English, although to be fair, the Irish are the worst). He’s writing about events going on at one in the morning and harping on about the warmer climate, yet back in January, when the brass monkey’s nuts are a permanent shade of blue, the weather barely gets a mention at all. Is this what they call wishful thinking?


Last week, I had the temerity to suggest that people don’t celebrate the seasons as much in northern Europe as they do in other areas of the world. But maybe I’m wrong. This city is full of so many spring-glazed idiots that there must be an underground spring movement where they gather to whip each other with daffodils, tell anyone who will listen that Easter is actually a spring festival, and gush on about a season that doesn’t exist. 


And once again the events this week reflect the fact that nobody wants to go outdoors. There are no less than two new plays in English – the CTC's The Good Doctor  and Desdemona, (click here for more) of which there will be a review next week – and BLACKOUT!, the final part of Mute Comp’s trilogy on crime. This time the focus is on drugs: the good ones and the bad ones. 


And nicely timed to mark the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic (details of Julian Fellowes’s rubbish miniseries) is the release of the film Battleship.


Presumably the distributor who chose this release week put his winter coat away on March 1.