2016 can go suck my nonexistent balls, quite frankly. What a fucking catastrophic mess of a year – from losing Lemmy at the end of the last one to a reality TV maniac becoming the most powerful person on the planet, by way of Bowie deciding he’d had enough, actually, and we could all just sort it out on our own because he was done with our shit. One of my best friends lost their beloved dog last week in horribly unfair circumstances and everybody who’d ever known him wept because he was the best dog ever and suddenly he was gone. And now Leonard Cohen. Lovely, lovely Leonard – my teenage self’s doom-monger of choice and the soundtrack to much of my life.
It would be so easy to just curl up in a corner with tissues and a bottle of gin, weeping for the unfairness of it all. And I’ve done exactly that on some days. But then the inertia goes and sheer livid fucking anger takes over. There comes a point in your life when you realise that bad things happen to good people and good things happen to people who are so awful they ought to be on display in a cage in the zoo, behind a plaque that reads ‘EXAMPLE OF FUCKING AWFUL HUMAN BEING – DO NOT FEED’.
Life isn’t fair. It never has been and it never will be – the only thing we can do is get angry. Not the kind of anger that provokes riots and bloodshed and further awfulness; right now we need the kind of quiet, determined anger that has seen us through terrible times in the past and will see us through more in the future. And it will, because it has to.
What else do we have?