The Real New Year.

Somehow it hit me today - while watching Jon Stewart's Credits for the Last Eight Years and reading Vanity Fair's Oral History of the Bush White House - that this is what I was subconsciously waiting for to consider 2008 over: the inauguration.  In a strange way, the year was a spectacular crescendo of those eight years, so it felt like it was still lingering until that presidency was finally over.  So, here's to a belated New Year.

Frankly, the inauguration doesn't make me as emotional as do the memories of the last eight years, triggered by the VF article linked above.  The period just ended and it's already so unbelievable what happened.. that it happened.  Some of it had already faded quite a bit, so reading about it is almost like catharsis of a long forgotten trauma.  More than anything, it makes me hope that the desire to move on and go forward doesn't triumph the crucial need for examining, investigating, and, yes, prosecuting.  

On an unrelated note, go see Justin Bond at Le Poisson Rouge.  As I was listening to him on Sunday, it occurred to me that in the event the world suffers from the vanishing of creative inspiration that the W presidency gifted the arts, the crappy economy, gender politics and ethnic wars will surely pick up the slack, so, you know, phew.  Not that any of those are particularly important in JBo's performance.. more just a random thought.  And in case you're wondering, that dress is made of pieces of tranny porn, courtesy of Machine Dazzle.