What's going on here? An edition on December 29, one today and a forthcoming one on January 5, 2004... Don't you guys ever sleep? you'll ask. We do, but poorly of late, we'll answer. It's just that the calendar is what it is and our traditions are sacrosanct. To paraphrase Hermann Hesse, you have to be serious with what's worth it and laugh at everything else. So, here is our eighth rendition of Swans' Infamous Predictions™. A caution to the stiffs out there: You do not have to read. We'll be glad you do not -- and keep your kids on a leash. You don't want them to blush, do you?
To all reasonably sane people out there -- where is there? How sane can one be in a time of increased reactionary politics? -- enjoy the work of a few dedicated oddballs.
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Swans: 2004 Predictions
"What provokes your risibility, Sir? Have I said anything that you understand? Then I ask pardon of the rest of the company."
--Samuel Johnson (in Memoirs, 1807)
Fine, we know, the nabobs of negativism pointed out that last year's Infamous Predictions™ were way off-mark, particularly that of the DOW, which we forecast would close below 6,000. Well money's never been our forte, so give us some slack. But we did predict matter-of-factly that the rich would get richer and the poor poorer... Okay, that was an easy one; but what about "Gray Davis's colorless features [making] one long for Arnold Schwarzenegger?" We did utter those words then and see what we got now! Better be careful what you ask for...
We also received notice from the Office of Public Morality that a forthcoming Executive Order would outlaw sex except when done to procreate unborn fetuses and that prurient predictions -- we've been known for those -- would not be tolerated any longer. So, prurience won't be at the rendezvous. It's not been a sexy year, anyway -- just a glance at Laura Bush would make spending a night with Michael Jackson a delightful experience! -- and from our reading of the tea leaves there is nary a prospect for improvement in 2004. With the bushes filled with flaccid dicks and virgin chicks, humor in America has been exiled in no-child-left-behind orphanhood.
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