January 4, 2007
Like this article?
Join our email list:
Stay up to date with the latest headlines via email.
Usually you make it to January 1, take a deep breath, look back on the old year and realize there was a fairly equal balance of what you call your good and your bad. The last couple of years (six, to be exact) have tilted a bit towards the latter. But 2006? Holy moley catfish. Subtract the single sublime 24-hour period of time that was November 7th from the other 8,736 hours we slogged through, and you got yourself a awfully grisly swamp of an annum. 2006 was to years what OJ Simpson is to manners and propriety seminars. Like Paris Hilton and advanced trigonometry texts. Michael Richards and Martin Luther King Dinner Keynote Speeches. I could go on.
It was the year the President put his hands over his ears and made "la la la" noises whenever confronted with any sort of discouraging word concerning Iraq, whether it came from the citizens of Iraq, the citizens of America, his own Intelligence Estimates, bi- partisan study groups, his wife Laura or his dog Barney. The year that Americans found out they were being spied on by their own government and their collective response was a yawn wide enough to erect a gift shop and start offering donkey tours of the bottom. The year that Dick Cheney shot a guy in the face and the victim apologized.
But this year, 2007, aha! This one's going to be different. Why? Because we said so. Yeah. Unh hunh. Everybody uses the posting of a new calendar to make plans to change their nefarious ways. You know. Diet. Quit smoking. More exercise. Stop invading countries. Less killing of innocent people. Boring do-gooder stuff, mostly. Meant for the furthering of the self. What they never think of is you and me: the rest of us. And because they don't, here's a list of what resolutions should be made by people for the 7th year of the first decade of the 21st century but probably won't.
George Bush's staff pledges to make sure that all reports sent to him come with broadly drawn cartoons and a new pack of crayons.
Democrats pledge to work out their differences with the hard line partisan hacks who refuse to compromise on their side of the aisle before yelling at Republicans.
Tony Snow takes an oath to never open another White House Press Conference with "Who wants a piece of me?"
Snoop Dog determines this is the year he gets his face off the default position of Police Department mug shot computer programs.
Dennis Kucinich vows that in this year's Iowa Straw Poll, he will not lose to the straw.
Kate Moss resolves to eat a hamburger every time she even thinks of snorting a line of coke.
Illinois Senator Barack Hussein Obama vows he will now be known as Barry.
Bill O'Reilly vows to defy that Al Qaeda death list, whether it exists or not.
Britney Spears and underwear: a match.
The airline industry is adamant about making every effort to rid the skies of the most dangerous security element known to man: the half empty bottle of skin lotion.
Congress resolves to do absolutely nothing. Just like last year. (Oh, if only).
Trent Lott commits himself, sometime, during the year, against his better wishes; to stumble onto the boarding platform of the Clue Train.
Vladimir Putin makes an internal oath to do everything in his power from ever having to assassinate another journalist. Oh wait, sorry, that's get caught assassinating another journalist. Or ex KGB agent. Or Moscow businessman. Etcetera. Etcetera. Etcetera.
The Iraq Study Group vows to try and capture the president's attention by re- releasing its report under the name "Iraq Recess Group."
Presidential candidate Hillary Clinton pledges to outline a plan to fix the Social Security problem once and for all that does not involve raising the retirement age to 83.
The long distance telecom giants affirm their commitment to continue merging and merging and merging until they eventually coalesce into one single entity which they will rename Ma Bell.
Will Durst is a political comic, syndicated columnist, AM radio talk show host and defense liability.