5th January 2018
Along with everyone's new year shaky resolutions come the inevitable predictions. Everyone wants to know what 2018 holds for them personally. On Hogmanay's eve, I achieved an unprecedented perfect score in a certain card game, not a small feat, and I'm taking that as a good omen. No one likes the unknown, especially if that unknown threatens to plunge us into more of the same, thank you ma'am. We want waves of abundance and love and good fortune - the kind you don't have to break your neck to get, the kind that trickles down without any effort at all. Whether we are materialists or not, we like to be in the good graces of the gods and goddesses, We want life pressed down, shaken together and overflowing.
We cast a glance at the astrologers, hoping that the patterns of the stars can say something about what is to come, and maybe they can. We flip through the yellowed pages of ancient prophecies, ones like Nostradamus who seemed to be seeing quite clearly when he predicted all those centuries ago the rise of a "great, shameless, audacious brawler," to a seat of power round about now in history.
My prediction: the great shameless, audacious brawler is going down in 2018. I made a bet with a friend that this would happen before June of this year. Without any appeal whatsoever to science and its numbers, my feeling is 2018 is going to be a notable year. Let the gods and goddesses perne in a gyre. Let the good times roll!