Staff Reports
Every January, journalists and their allies in the perpetual cycle of doomsaying and head-scratching predictions come forth with their annual lists of forecasts. With a fervor matched only by their own boundless arrogance, these projectionists turn their gaze towards politics and culture. They weave tales of gloom and hope that somehow reflect their fondest desires and worst fears, giving the world a blueprint for everything that won’t happen.
But here lies the rub: nobody knows what the future holds. Like Doris Day famously quipped in that bizarre film involving kidnapped children, assassins, and screeching singers, the future’s not ours to see. One usually needs a few doses of reality—unlike some of our left-leaning friends. So why not take a sharp, conservative jab at this annual tradition and define the year ahead with a dose of humor and a sprinkle of the improbable?
In a stunning act of altruism and homeopathic troubleshooting, let’s imagine our dear President Trump, clad in emerald-encrusted titanium, bravely facing off against a monstrous tarantula threatening to envelop New York in its eight-legged fear. It’s a sight to envision—a true blockbuster scene. Almost certainly, the Democrats would rush to rally for the spider’s rights, while lamenting Trump’s gallant rescue as yet another violation of some obscure arachnid amendments. Sadly, these entanglements run deep—all the way to the cocktail lounges where they hold parties for the lightly bruised.
As the culture war rages on, Netflix is bound to descend into further virtue-signaling chaos, with new mandates for mixed-race couples and a child cohort that defies all prior convention. Inevitably, when audiences tune out, will the executives blame their slipping numbers on viewers’ inability to see their brilliance? Why, of course! The audience simply got smaller. Or perhaps that staircase optic and the subsequent mental institution due to a tick too blend into the political absurdity of our times?
Back in the realm of politics proper, while states smolder and scandals unfold, perhaps some leaders might take a moment to ponder truly returning to basics—such as letting people keep more than half their fruits of labor or, say, not paying the neighborhood arsonist to build the local fire department. After all, rebuilding cities just to watch them metaphorically burn might not be the best endorsement for leadership.
In this wild world, who even doubts that Democrats might flip the House with every intention of impeaching a President responsible for too much peace and prosperity? It’s a fever dream where the villains and heroes blur so frequently, hardly anyone knows which end is up. What is certain, though, is that whatever curious spectacles politicians and entertainers conjure, the steadfast laws of common sense and wit will always prevail—every now and then, at least.
