It’s not that there’s not plenty of things going on I could comment on. The implosion of judgemental morons feeling they have a right to an opinion over the Pitt-Jolie celebrity kid thing, for one. (This is a child. Kids experiment. Leave the poor little devil alone. Celebrity culture sucks donkey knob and I really must rant about that some time. Taylor Swift – I mean really.) There’s the new series of BBC Musketeers, for breathless shallowness. There’s that post I was half going to make about why I’m never touching gamergate but am probably not going to, because sticking my head over the parapet when it comes to internet feminism.
There’s the fact this has been a pretty momentous year for me – an awful lot of changes have happened, big and small, and I can really say life has come together a little more this year. The trouble with momentous years being of course that they’re also busy and stressful – so when you hit the down period between Christmas and New Year, you crash hard.
There’s the deep ruminations on the fact I’m steadily aging. The deaths I’m seeing among my friends and the chill perspective it gives me on my own fragility. The way I’m starting to understand why adults thought I was an idiot when I was young. The strange ways my aptitudes are changing and developing as testosterone finishes its long slow neurological job, and the eternal howling irony of the fact that yes, gender stereotypes exist for a reason.
There’s life on benefits in the Tory-governed UK. I have ATOS to deal with in the new year, and whether they in their wisdom will cut off my support. Not looking forward to that one.
But there’s also that quiet sense of a watershed; there’s no reason at all it should be the end of December that we change the year, and yet somehow it takes on meaning simply as a beginning and an end. We do that, we humans; find meaning in everything. In 2015, I want to find meaning in loving and supporting my fellow human beings.
(All pictures in this post found by image-googling “DEEP AND MEANINGFUL”.)