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December 29, 1998 - #66
And so it begins. Here we are on actual New Year's Eve. Even though it is really only Monday night, I have transported myself mentally to Thursday night in order to be able to write as if it were Thursday night. This is called Telecolumntransportation which I have patented. Because of said patent, I am the only one who can use Telecolumntransportation, or TCT for short. I am, for example, using it now. I can do this because I own the patent. So, here we are on Thursday night, as the hours turn into minutes and the minutes turn into seconds. In Times Square at midnight they will drop the ball. We, however, have beaten them to the punch. We have been dropping the ball all year. Don't you hate when people beat you to the punch? They drink it all up and then there's no punch for anyone else, which simply makes one want to punch the people who beat you to the punch. We are counting down to the New Year, dear readers. We are having a rockin' New Year's Eve. Everyone must put on the cheery music. What I do is to pour Diet Coke into a champagne bottle so that when it comes time to toast the New Year it has the right champagne look. As my loyal readers know, I then think about the past year, think about the things that were good, think about things I can do to make things better, and then make my New Year's Resolutions. I feel it's a time for contemplation and that is my favorite way to spend New Year's Eve. After I finish my ritual, perhaps I'll have some bacon or a donut to ring out the old year and ring in the new. I know and trust that none of you will drink and drive and that you will all have a safe and healthy new year. Because, frankly, dear readers, You Light Up My Life. You make my world a brighter place and we wouldn't want anything untoward to happen to you.
If you have fireplaces, light a fire and get all cozy as we count down. There is but one hour to go until we shout like heathens, Happy New Year! One hour until 1999 officially begins. Isn't this Telecolumntransportation (Patent Pending) a wonderful thing? I do believe it is.
Thirty minutes to go. Oh, this is so exciting, spending New Year's Eve with all my dear readers. Have you made your resolutions yet? You must try to keep all your resolutions. You must try to be resolute about your resolutions. Somebody annoyed me today and I called them an unmitigated piece of bacon fat. That shut them right up.
Fifteen minutes to go. We are so close and yet fifteen minutes away. The minutes are ticking, ticking, and the seconds are also ticking, ticking, so there is a plethora of ticking going on. All this ticking is making me crave a side order of bacon, but I will refrain. And after I refrain perhaps I'll verse and chorus. Ticking, ticking, the minutes and seconds...
Five minutes to go. Ten minutes have disappeared since fifteen minutes ago, hence there are five minutes to go. Pour your Diet Coke in a glass so that you're ready to do your New Year's Toast. And who wrote the best New Year's Toast of all? Why, my close personal friend, Mr. Stephen Sondheim, that's who. Here it is:
Here's to us,
What's with the "seconds". Why can't it be "thirds" or "fourths". Even time words are arbitrary. Oops, while I was blathering on twenty seconds went by.
HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!
Yes, it is now 1999 thanks to my handy dandy Telecolumntransportation (Patent Pending and don't even think about stealing it). 1999. That is three nines and a one, and that means it's going to be a very good year in my book (Chapter 256 - Three Nines and A One A Very Good Year Doth Make). Have you all screamed "Happy New Year"? As soon as you have, be sure to follow it with, "What is it, fish?"
Well, dear readers, I truly do wish you all the best, happiest and healthiest New Year you have ever had. Our next column will be up one day late and will not be groundbreaking in any way whatsoever. I'll answer all your letters, answer last week's trivia question, and have all new New Year's drivel for you.
Assassins is about how society interprets the American Dream, marginalizes outsiders and rewrites and sanitizes its collective history. "Something Just Broke" is a major distraction and plays like an afterthought, shoe horned simply to appease. The song breaks the dramatic fluidity and obstructs the overall pacing and climactic arc which derails the very intent and momentum that makes this work so compelling...
- Mark Bakalor
Which is not to say that it is perfect...
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