If we learned anything in 2016, it’s that history is wasting its time trying to teach us a damned thing.

The Year of Our Lord 2016

We’re heading into an era of epochal awfulness. People are going to be damaged – by their lack of, by the surfeit of others, by ideology, by the absence of ideology, by ignorance, and by apathy.

Silence will become the surest means of reaching many different, horrifying ends. “Going with the flow” will set the stage for dangerous illusions to be presented to its practitioners, while untold misery will be visited upon those in the path of the river as the flow becomes a series of raging rapids.

Being mindful and staying present will seem like twin gambles in a lose/lose scenario, with those who preserve their peace of mind being in the gravest danger of losing everything else. Few will be safe from mental, financial, or legal persecution. No living creature will escape unscathed as we all are carried inexorably on this wave of complete ruin.

I’m pretty smart, but not smart enough to discern and point out each and every esoteric political signpost presented to me in order to write about it in a way that will seem mildly – let alone admirably, amazingly – prophetic.

I no longer have the good health or stamina to protest by marching or by occupying hostile space. In fact, even circling the middle of a “free speech zone” while holding a sign scrawled with some scathing indictment of the system would be too taxing after an hour or so. Forming a well-regulated militia is also out of the question, as I hate guns (and I feel no great fondness for militias, whether they’re well-regulated or vortexes of chaos).

Let’s face it: we’re all going to be looking for something to lighten the mood in the days and years to come. Donald Trump is going to make it difficult to laugh. (And if laughter is too often elicited at his expense, he may try to make jokes illegal.)

Ugh.

Despite the fact that I am a woman, one thing I do know how to do is be funny. I stand by this. It might be the only thing for which I would also gladly sit down in a jail cell. Which could very well happen one day.

Who gives a shit?

If I can’t find it in myself to be funny, I will always look for humor in some of the darkest, most hideous corners of life.

To this end, as I’ve said before and will say again and again, especially, now, when it means infinitely more to me: everything should be hilarious.