…will be a crazily discordant year. Ancient prophecies will allegedly be fulfilled, and new ones will be made, daily, in the papers and magazines and things the kids are reading these days. Fish will fall from the sky, but only where they feel like it. Meaningless statistics will litter television commercials, and commercialism will creep even further into stray spots of emptiness in the world. Emptiness will hide in noise.

Blood will be shed unnecessarily. “Shed,” or “spilled,” because that makes it seem passive and non-violent. Tears will flow, but out of necessity. A thing called money will dig deeper into the souls of the converted. War will be abstracted by men talking about principle, and by some women. Hail will crush grains, and glaciers will melt. Asphalt will crack. Buildings will continue to rise up. Las Vegas will find itself caught up in a sudden water conservation movement, or maybe not.

Technology will make tinier and tinier that which occupies us more and more. We’ll be constantly surprised, by everything. We’ll be deluded, by everyone and ourselves.

My one New Year’s Resolution will be to become a pathological liar, and I will fail.

But you will have no way of knowing.