Epilogue and an Amusing Question.

Being the last day of the year, I feel a natural inclination to make a final post. Not that it matters, of course, because the calendar new year has no cosmic significance. But if the culture which spawned me chooses to see midnight as a bridge, there seems no harm in going along with it.

The problem is that I have nothing of significance to say. It’s been one of the poorer years of my life, but not as bad as some of the others. Earlier today I was enumerating the bad years and was surprised to find that they nearly all ended in 5. The only exception was 2018. That was the one which brought the cancer, the operation and its many instances of troublesome fallout, further hospitalisations, and the slow rollercoaster of physical recovery. This year has been more about frequent mishaps, malfunctions, meddlesome pressures, and mental malaise. (And isn’t it odd that my mind always seeks to discover alliteration wherever it is to be found. It just happens, you know.)

YouTube is currently full of predictions that 2026 will be replete with troubles and major changes of direction in the affairs of mankind and its little planet. Is that just YouTube being YouTube? I don’t know; some of the uploads made more sense than others. But I have to say that the sense of bad things approaching has felt heavier than usual this year. Time will tell.

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A little aside: Did you know that Adolf Hitler was much given to excessive flatulence? Such knowledge takes a bit of the gloss off his dark charisma, doesn’t it? Or does it? I suppose if you carry the smell of sulphur around with you everywhere you go, maybe it augments the hellish connection. (I gather it’s illegal in some countries to make jokes about Hitler, so I do hope I won’t get locked up for saying this.) Goodnight and good prospects everyone.