In the year 2010, we didn’t need to tell the truth, tell no lie — everything we’d do, think and say, was in the little pill we took today.
Or perhaps you were trying with all your might to forget 2010 entirely, likely by doing upside-down funnels of your carefully hoarded Four Loko stashes. Well, you’re shit outta luck, redsnouts. Because here is a whirlwind tour of 2010, the year wind broke.
There is, after all, great value in Remembering: as F. Scott Fitzgerald said, memorably, as he was throwing up on a misfortunate bellhop, “so we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.” By which he meant, remember that stupid shit Chuck Norris said eight months ago? That was some stupid shit!
January. The Harold Ford campaign juggernaut is derailed by an uncharacteristic gaffe — a bizarre refusal to urinate on Staten Island, making him seem even less appealing and intelligent than Susan Molinari. Ford’s NY Senate campaign would eventually fizzle, thus proving conclusively that the United States Senate is no place for entitled idiots with no discernible use besides pompous bloviating and an ability to get paid by virtue of personally knowing a lot of other rich shits. The Republic is saved!
February. The greatest Conservative Rap Song in History is released. (Warning: may cause blindness or death.)
March. The Church in its Majesty.
April. Jonah Goldberg replies to charges that conservatives make shit up by booger-flicking and saying “oh yeah, well climate scientists are doodyheads.” Goldberg then farts contentedly, inhales fumes with pleasure.
June. Chuck Norris demands the federal government ban football and capitalism! No really!
July. The Real Victim of the Shirley Sherrod Scandal, Andrew Breitbart, receives an apology. The racial scars of a nation begin at last to heal.
August. Andy McCarthy wets himself, triumphantly.
September. Who can ever forget… Dildo Boat?
October. Damn, I miss Carl Paladino…
November. WHACK WHACK.
December. The Douchepocalypse.