Alright. All the terms and events linked to the past year are finally deemed irrelevant. We can put that dirty year in a black bag, tie it with a slip knot and put it behind us. Then, with the back of our foot, kick it into the lake before anyone notices. 2011 has burst from the eggshell of time and we’re still climbing up the ladder of doom!
Every year of this early decade of millennial outreach has proved weirder and more deathly than the year before it. A crooked election, then some planes and some buildings. A mission accomplished, a re-election, and a hurricane. There were pirates, underwear explosions, and an armed vice president. The title for World’s Largest Skyscraper was taken in fantasy land Dubai while two- and three-bedroom homes crashed all over suburbia. We elected Barack Obama, but defined anyone with a slight Mexican resemblance as criminal. Pot-smoking has become more accepted in mainstream culture, but if you’re going to build that mosque there, then I’m going to burn this copy of the Koran here. Equal levels of hate and love fight for space. The Tea Party is not, like first thought, a place to get wild with a cup of Earl Grey and Wikileaks leaked a bunch of secrets like spilt milk.
So now another chunk of time begins (as if it actually started and stopped). We are now aboard a cemented-shut vehicle traveling faster than Justin Bieber’s growth rate. The next twelve months could either start to produce a financial turnaround for the country or mash us further into the mud. Maybe the middle-class will rise up with boards and nails and enact a full assault on the rich, wealthy and complacent. Or maybe we’ll just lie down like dogs -- this isn’t Spain, anyway.
The ingredients for Election Day 2012 stew will start to be thrown into the pot and stirred all year. All eyes will be on every step, misstep and television appearance of any would-be politician. The Republicans, with their disgusting nonfactual guts, will throw their weight around trying to undo the glorious Health Care bill passed last year (which, thankfully, now keeps me insured and jobless for another two years). There will be fights; there will be explosions, arguments, misunderstandings and apologies. So let’s drink a glass of John Boehner’s tears and say cheers to our beloved future! Hosannah in the Highest! I miss you.