Tuesday, January 01, 2008
As I sit here sipping my Asti Spumanti by the fire watching the Cooper Scooper 360 re-cap the blazing bag of shit on the front porch that was 2007, I can’t help but reflect with a sick nostalgia all the non-essential information that I allowed myself to deep throat on a daily basis. 2007 was the kind of year that one could summon the resolve at any given moment to firmly believe that we were indeed weeks away from the apocalypse. I won’t bother to rehash any of the special American brand of lunacy that only a population of neurotic, overly paranoid masters of denial and illusion can perpetuate and produce, be it sports mishaps, celebrity train wrecks, political plasticity or those crraazzzy Arabs – we were all there, we all saw the movie, no need for further embellishment. It’s too painful and frankly, just too fucking redundant. I can’t say that I’m happy to see another year go. It just means more gray hair, crow’s feet and joint pain for numero uno, but I am giddy with excitement to see 2007 abscond far, far away. It is with that sense of fragile vulnerability one gets before telling their soul mate “I love you” for the first time that I greet 2008 – apprehensively, gingerly and with the mildest tinge of cynicism. So, Happy New Year everyone. Good night and good luck.