When I open any reputable history book, the first thing that strikes me is the names of people who have existed and made an impact in history. There is an old quotation of unknown origin that says “May you live in interesting times”. Certainly, there have been those that have fulfilled that saying to its utmost.
While I occupy what is a very small space in the world of mass communication, and despite the fact that my science-based belief system automatically precludes me from thinking that my words have very little long-term impact in the grand universal chaotic scheme, I am ready to make the following pronouncement based on facts in evidence.
I do not live in interesting times, for fascinating eras cannot possibly contain this many stupid people.
Unlike all of the promising black-and-white documentaries of yesteryear, where the future promised technological convenience, helicopter commuting to work and (in general) faster ways to become as least as smart as the briefcase-carrying regional sales manager of 1954, the modern times that have appeared in front of me features a cornucopia consisting mostly of dullards, the willfully ignorant and neo-neanderthals of every size, shape and creed.
I am far from my idealized world of Buckminster Fuller, populated by efficient 3-wheeled cars and modest housing that allows everyone to live in a confined space comfortably and equitably. I am in the opening scenes of 2001: A Space Odyssey, where the lead Cro-Magnon finds a bone and instead of using it as a rudimentary tool to grind corn into flour, can only think to use it as a truncheon to beat the life out of his enemies on the other side of the creek.
In the past, I could ignore this empty-headed herd for two reasons. First, in days gone by, these people usually congregated in places where I never appeared, such as drunken bar fights, floating crap games and (such as those that occurred around the corner from my house in a public park in Wilmington, North Carolina in 1974) cross burnings. Second, I slept fairly well at night, believing that there existed reasonable people to show us that there was indeed a common good worth fighting for, despite the randomly spewed venom of the wrong-headed minority.
In 2011, we showed no promise of cultural evolution to a higher standard. Instead, as a society, we stood and watched as the rightfully maligned slack-jawed yokel of yesteryear grabbed the keys to the car, passed out drunk from moonshine and drove the Car of Country off a cliff.
The end of December is usually a time when the news reflects on the twelve previous months of the year, marking seminal milestones, important events and offering a final toast to those who have gone. It is enough to make the modern network news anchor, complete with high, wavy hair and a teleprompter full of words he or she can read but cannot comprehend, a little misty-eyed. Does anyone else remember when Ted Baxter was the parody of an anchorman and not the shining example?
There is absolutely no reason to miss 2011 if you live in the United States. To begin with, no one in power, or for that matter anyone currently seeking either to keep it or obtain it for the first time, is representative of the term “reasonable”. A large swath of the voting public began the year by inviting roughly 200 barefoot ignoramuses into the halls of power in Congress fresh from some far-flung philosophical manure field. That same voting public is now stunned to discover that the carpets are indelibly ruined. This is the Spalding Guide demonstration of the idea that people get the government they deserve.
I usually cover health care issues in this space, so I cannot possibly complete my thesis on mass inanity without giving a mention to Medicare Administrative Contractors and the blind stumblers in a roomful of rearranged furniture that are the Recovery Audit Contractors who attempt to fix their numerous mistakes. Then there’s the American Medical Association, who decided that nearly three years after the issuance of a Final Rule on ICD-10 from CMS was the perfect time to fight for a different implementation date. Finally, let me raise a glass to all the Medicare crooks that have been nabbed by the HEAT teams this year, for these people suffer from an acute infection from a special mutated strand of the Idiot Virus known as the Thieving Moron Flu (scientific designation: URTM-1).
Tomorrow night, I am not going to tearfully say goodbye to 2011 as if I was attending a wake. I am going to be home with my wife, eating the last bad food of my life before attempting once again to lose my extra 35 pounds of body weight beginning on Sunday, drinking well-chilled beers from my refrigerator and spitting on the grave of 2011. This past year was neither interesting nor memorable. It should be held up as the shining example of everything you can do wrong to a society and its people. It should be mocked, stripped naked and kicked out the door for these last hours to perish of frostbite as it wails and gnashes its teeth.
To paraphrase Bette Davis’ comments upon hearing of the death of Joan Crawford, you should never say bad things about the dead. You should only say good. 2011 is dead. Good!

