It's that time of year again. The time of year when everyone and their dog waxes nostalgic about all the shit nobody cares about from the year past, and stupidly predicts the next year in the grim knowlege that when the next New Year comes along nobody will remember that the dumbass predicted a bunch of foolish shit that turned out to be complete and utter balderdash. I might as well, too. Just like I did last year (yes, a lot of this was pasted from last year's final chapter). But first, the yearly index:
A strange discovery
I've been working on this book all year. It started with a single, very short story. By the third story I started thinking "book". Originally the book was titled Everything You Know Is Wrong but the title changed. I'd say it's maybe half done.
Little Green Men
The Death of Two Protohumans
It's the end of the world (but I feel fine)
Terry and the Nac Mac Feegle
Not a ghost of a chance
The Time Triangle
The Zeta Reticuli Incident
Everything You Know Is Wrong
War of the Worlds
Venus and Mars
Ford and Gorn
Last years' stupid predictions:
Someone will die. Not necessarily anybody I know...
SETI will find no sign of intelligent life. Not even on Earth.
The Pirate Party won't make inroads in the US. I hope I'm wrong about that one.
US politicians will continue to be wholly owned by the corporations.
I'll still be a nerd.
You'll still be a nerd.
technophobic fashionista jocks will troll slashdot.
Slashdot will be rife with dupes.
Many FPs will be poorly edited.
I think I'll keep those predictions for another year.
I'll finally get that book in paper form
Sigh. Not yet. I hope to get it out shortly. I'll go ahead and predict that again, too.
I had thought that this December I would be eligible to retire, but I made a math error -- I'm already eligible. Too bad I won't be able to afford it until I can collect Social Security. Imagine how much more I'll be writing when I no longer have to work!
Happy New Year! Ready for another trip around the sun?