You've got to love the cross cultural brilliance of what we in the west have adopted as the basis of our calendar system.
I mean is there anywhere in the world where Norse and Roman gods live side by side with egotistical Roman Emperors in a house whose walls are dictated by the universal wanderings of a large ball of flammable gases and a spherical lump of rock.
And to think that we wake up to this bizarre amalgamation every morning and barely even draw breath. In fact for the most part a minor gastric eruption is about as excited as we get, and even that seldom provokes comment.
What does it all mean?
Absolutely nothing, and that's the beauty of it.