Thursday, December 31, 2020

Auld lang syne

Wherever you are and whatever your situation (since I know for a fact that no billionaires read this blog*), I’m hoping you’ll join me in giving 2020 a punt over the horizon. Whether you drink alcohol or not; eat some special food or not (and I hope you have food); commune with a higher power or not; celebrate alone or safely socially distanced—I think we can all agree that this has been one lousy year the world over.

As you know, later tonight I shall symbolically torch it and wash its taste out of my mouth with champagne. Whatever gets you through the transition, I’m with you.

It’s clear we aren’t done with Republican fuckery; at time of writing, Moscow Mitch is standing firm against COVID relief for the masses; the junior Senator from Missouri is ensuring a Congressional circus on 6 January; Cadet Bonespurs’ administration is refusing to share critical intelligence on adversaries with Biden’s team; vaccine distribution is a complete and utter clusterfuck (quelle surprise) and—in short—it’s business as usual.

The evil men do lives long after their political gig; there’s absolutely no good at all to be interrèd with their old, White male bones.

But tomorrow the fight continues. So take a cup o’ kindness, dropkick 2020 right out the door and suit up for 2021. Here's something to help the transition.

*The closest I get is Facebook’s scan of my posts; the scan that will label this content as “sensitive”.

 

 

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