At the End of the Day

This being the final day of 2012 – a year that shall live in infamy – I thought I’d offer a brief opinion on all the things I won’t miss about it.

Whitney Houston, whose death in February released a torrent of emotionally incontinent hero-worship from those unable to see that she had an irritating low-brow voice, no acting talent, and a drug problem created by the mindless desire to be famous.

Nicolas Sarkozy, a small and vulgar man who was finally unelected by the French. The downside was that this paved the way for Francois Hollande to get elected.

My wife’s illness, and our eventual breakup.

Glitches. You may have noticed that these techno-boobs only ever happen to banks, and only ever benefit banks. Today, the Lloyds Leviathan stopped giving out any money to anyone on New Year’s Eve. Given the cash-outflow the bean-counters would expect, I mean HTF could that happen? In reality, it is a Leviathon: please give generously and go without money so that our dedicated banking sheisters can survive for another month.

Eric Hobsbawm, the eternal Communist denialist whose books were impenetrably wrong.

Pedantic, inflexible German ClubMed austerity designed to achieve objectives so unachievably destructive, a small child could be taught why within twenty minutes using a simple Abacus and a Monopoly set.

The protection of the eternally powerful paedophile.

Lord McAlpine and his unutterably disgusting ambulance-chasing creature Andrew Reid.

The Arab Spring, a ridiculous invention of the Western MSM, none of whom have the first f**king idea about Arabism and what it means.

Media coverage of the Golden Jubilee.

Hurricane Sandy. Also Surrey Sandy.

Debt ceilings built entirely without planning permission on fiscal cliffs. How dumb was that?

The Facebook IPO. Also Mark Zuckerberg.

The election of Vladimir Putin as Russian President.

RBS fraud, and the determination of Stephen Hester to stop banking fraud.


For the allegedly best things about 2012, see this entry here at the National Post. Try your hardest not to vomit…especially about the Book of Mormon musical coming to Toronto.