Tonight we show 2021 the door. A year ago, people made jokes about saying good riddance to 2020. By implication, 2021 had to be better because nothing could be worse than 2020. And then 2021 came along …
To be fair. It’s not a competition. Each year has turned out to be shit fucked in its own special way.
This image nicely captures how I feel about 2021. I identify with the skeleton playing the mandolin. I didn’t even bother to interrogate the year or give it a fair trial. Instead, I chopped off its arm and ran a sword through its chest. Then I sat on a log and played a madrigal. They call them madrigals for a reason. If you sang them when you’re happy, they’d call them gladrigals.
