Good Riddance, 2005

And I say that with all sincerity. Good motherfucking riddance. There has been little to recommend about this year. Very little that I would miss were 2005 to be erased from my memory.

Tsunamis, earthquakes, and hurricanes (oh my!). A malignant chimp in the White House. Avian influenza. And, of course, there are my personal problems. I'm not going to go into details in this public forum (semi-public, really, since the 20-or-so people on my mailing list are probably the only ones who read this). Anyone who knows me knows exactly why this year has been shit, excrement, mierda.

So is there a silver lining?

There's always a silver lining. It's just that you have to be really creative sometimes. I have never read the book myself, but Kahlil Gibran's The Prophet has a comforting answer, a silver lining to a year marked by misery. From part 8, On Joy & Sorrow:

My capacity for joy is going to really kick ass in the future.

I think there's another factor in play, here. Sorrow doesn't just increase capacity for joy, but also tolerance for future sorrow. It has a protective, numbing effect after awhile. I remember reading about hopelessness in psychological experiments, using dogs. The dogs were placed in electrified cages that would shock them at random intervals. At first, the dogs yelped and jumped at the shocks. Eventually they gave up hope, and just lay there and took it. The pain was no longer so startling, and there was no way they could avoid it. I don't feel completely hopeless, but I do feel desensitized. And that's a good thing, because no one can bear constant, uninterrupted pain. No one. Electric shocks are nothing. That pain is physical only, trivial in comparison to psychological pain. Trivial compared to what can go on in the confines of a person's own mind.

I'm going to lose my tiny audience if I keep talking about pain and suffering, so I'll try to move on to something else. Any other silver lining? Anything else about this year that I don't want to wipe from my memory? I can think of a few things.

First, I believe my cooking has greatly improved this year. In an effort to keep my mind from torturing me, I've tried to distract myself with way too much television. One show in particular that I've watching this year is the Food Network's Good Eats with Alton Brown. I don't take everything he says as gospel (in particular, I grimace whenever he uses shortening, because there is never a good reason to use partially hydrogenated vegetable oil), but I have learned a lot from his show. Each ingredient has its own personality, and must be treated accordingly. I'd heard rumors about how tomatoes are not to be refrigerated, but now I have a scientific reason why (cold permanently shuts down certain enzymes). I learned that I have been overmixing and overcooking certain ingredients. I've purchased several pieces of kitchen equipment that I don't know how I lived without, and there are several more I'm drooling over. Especially the Thermapen. I am also a more organized chef these days, tending to do more prep work beforehand. So thanks, Alton, for being one of the few highlights in 2005. Even though half the shows I've watched were filmed 2-3 years ago.

Second, I've been able to listen to a lot of music. Some people always talk on their cell phones. Not me. I always listen to music. I like to have a running soundtrack to my life. I like the structure, the rhythm, the melody, the lyrics, everything. I love music. There's no way to state that strongly enough: music is medicine for me. It keeps me sane, keeps me happy (or at least less miserable), and fills some of the emptiness that would be otherwise occupied by self-defeating thoughts. I generally don't read poetry, but song lyrics speak to me the way poetry speaks to other people. Being able to listen to my music is like charging my batteries. I do have one small complaint regarding music, though: about half of the stuff I listen to is Brazilian, and there hasn't been anyone around I can speak Portuguese with for a long time. So it's very lonely, feeling moved by song lyrics but unable to share that with anyone around me. My bastardized translations certainly don't cut it. But that's a minor complaint, really, like saying "I really wish you could taste how good this ice cream sundae is." I still get to enjoy the lyrics (or sundae), and they aren't any less sweet just because I'm the only one.

Third, I have a network of friends and family that really do care about me. I have a dad, which is almost weird these days. And I don't just have friends, I have some really old friends. As in, friends for many years now, not elderly friends. So many people go from one superficial friendship to another, without really knowing any of their . . . acquaintances. That's what a superficial friend is: an acquaintance. There are a handful of people I've known for over a decade and still talk to every month or two. As I mentioned by in August, my long-suffering grandfather died this summer. His death could have been a completely miserable experience, but it was quite the opposite. So many people showed up at his memorial service. People I hadn't seen in ten years, and I don't mean just family, although they were there too. It made me feel very connected, in a way I hadn't felt since . . . ever, I think. I know he would have been glad to see us enjoying ourselves, celebrating his life and his legacy. That event showed me some of the less tangible benefits to being a good person and helping others, and was a much-needed inspiration in the midst of what has been, as I said, a very shitty year.

Fourth (and this is a mixed-bag), I have been proven right over and over again in my allegations against the aforementioned chimp in the White House. I kind of wish I had been wrong, since all the events I foretold were pretty awful. On 11 September 2001, I went to history class where we had recently been discussing Pearl Harbor. Our professor recognized this day was of similar historical magnitude, and we spent the whole class in discussion. In that discussion, I remember saying that I was worried this event would be used as an excuse to squash our civil liberties. Man, I wish I'd been wrong about that one. You know, I used to carry a knife with me all the time, and it was very useful. I used it all the time. I carried in on airplanes. I was never given a hard time from airport security. And you know what? If I had been on one of those flights that got hijacked, there would have been a few dead Saudis and a whole lot of living passengers, since a box cutter is no match for a decent knife. If you rely on other people to protect you from harm, you'll end up dead. But most people are sheep. That's another prediction of mine that unfortunately keeps being reinforced. So, if in the future I'm on a flight that happens to be hijacked by a bunch of insane Saudis, I won't have my knife. I'll still try to fight back, but I'll probably just end up bleeding to death before the plane rams into the Statue of Liberty. What an appropriate image--Liberty being destroyed by fearmongers. That could be the theme for the Bush regime. So all in all, I wish I had been more wrong, but it's good to know that I'm not crazy.

Fifth, there have been a handful of instances this year where the Bad Guys have been caught. Those are moments I really stop to savor: Tom DeLay having to step down because of his racketeering. Jack Abramoff being indicted. The Dover school board getting first sacked, then called out as the fucking hippocrites they are by the judge that threw out their voodoo science. It makes me giddy to think DeLay might actually go to jail for his gerrymandering in Texas, but I don't want to get my hopes too high.

I'm out of here. May 2006 be less shitty.