The War Against New Year. Or: Happy 2008!

Would make more sense than Bill O'Reilly's attempts to argue that there is a secular war against Christmas. I don't like the idea of a New Year. Nobody knows exactly when the new year starts and the old year ends, and it's been plugged into the bumhole of Christmas for a reason: Everybody still has booze and food left. Or many people do.

In any case, I don't feel like "new beginnings" and "ten things to change" this time of the year. I feel like curling up in a little ball inside a large feather quilt. If anything, I feel like kicking the idiotic old year in the ass on its way out, and I really don't want to even think about the next horrible year to start. There are 385 days, 8 hours, 26 minutes and 19 seconds left of the Bush Reich as I write this.

Those two paragraphs above are a sufficient explanation for my eternal status as a minor blogger. The Goddess of Glooom. To enjoy that is an acquired art.

That so many of you did acquire that art is something I'm eternally grateful for. You have brought so much excitement and ideas and just plain reality to my life. I value you all very much, even the trolls, and I value this connection, the learning and the warm emotions and the interesting debates, all of it.

I wish you a very happy new year.