
So what is all this ruckus about? On the Cosmic Calendar, it's the quadrillionth tick of a decayed photon, after the Big Bang, that is real time. But with us Humans it's something relevant to our need to find solace in this big, cold, indifferent Universe. We are, at soul level, children crying out in the wilderness for an immense, all powerful parent figure to assure us that we are safe and loved. So we passionately embrace our myths, superstitions, and nightmares to remind us of our human weaknesses which condemn us to a life bereft of our unrealized potential. "Surely," we try to convince ourselves, "Heaven is a far more attractive place than exploring the dark regions of the Universe, in beautifully constructed spaceships?" Heaven and angel wings vs. Alpha Centuri and the challenge of building intergallactic hardware is the question. That said, the clock strikes midnight and Earth has completed its 365th revolution around the Sun. We rejoice, not in this primary physical (f)act, but for the alcohol that has allowed us to feel released from all the guilt and shame acquired over the course of all the years passed. "Good Riddance, 2005!", we might slur, and place our now drained glass on the bar. Now that we are brand new beings, with brand new shiny souls, our next mission is to find a face to kiss--if we're single; or kiss the face we're with, keeping our fingers crossed that in this new year, our partner will finally devulge his or her real salary.
Having said all of the above, I'll be at home, stroking my PC keys with a glass of my favorite Shiraz. It's been a pleasure commensurating with all of you with whom I commensurated with in 2005; and it is my dearest wish that 2006 will bring you a ton of money, and the love of a life time!
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