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2001: FAST FORWARD
Year in preview
Anyone who thinks that the first year of the new millennium is over is wrong. Yes, wrong. Here is why: The year "0" cannot be counted, as it did not exist. There was 1 B.C. and then 1 A.D. At the end of year 1, there that was the end of the first year of the current millennium. Doing the math should lead you to realize that the millennium did not end until the end of the thousandth year, the year 2000. Welcome to the New Millennium. That said, here is what the new year has in store for us: The Aughts. How great will it be a few years down the line when we can reminisce fondly, "Ahhh, back in Aught One, it was still legal for people to train bulldogs for blood sports." January: An important month to get the year and Millennium off to a good start. My brother has a birthday. There should be some decent movies coming out, or still playing in order to get a good last-minute Oscar buzz. January is a cool month because it's a cool word. Say it out loud, slowly, and away from other people. Jan-u-ar-y. Cool. January 2001 is, simply, a cool concept. February: Not my favorite month, as it's so short. A couple of friends have birthdays. February of 2001 will be slushier than January, and Valentine's Day is generally as disappointing as New Year's. Presidents' Day will carry a special sting as we are reminded of how bad a president can be. I mean, what was Harding thinking? Really! March: The vernal equinox of the new millennium could potentially be one of the best ever. I would conjecture there's a high probability that there will be fire and magic on this day. St. Patrick's Day will come and go as usual. The Oscars are usually pretty compelling, no matter how much I disagree with the choices, and no matter how often I yell at the screen. I love March weather. The worst thing about March is it's the first month when people begin to say, "Is it March already? I can't believe how fast this year is going!" April: Taxes aside, a good month. Spring is terrific. I am excited for April Fool's Day, as 2001 will surely see the most advanced and futuristic pranks ever devised by man. What will those wonks at MIT come up with? My birthday rolls around. I predict that by the end of the month 17% of humans will live in space stations. I am willing to bet that there will also be a pretty amazing full moon at some point this month. May: Shortly after Mother's Day, the percentage of space station dwellers will rise to 36%. Many of them will be Asian. Some rich, eccentric people will have space stations of their own design. There will be a mall on the moon. Someone named Lisa will be working there, either at the Gap or at one of those music box stores, though I guess maybe oxygen outlets would be popular, too. Memorial Day will honor the recently dead soldiers who were casualties of the Great Intergalactic War I ("The War To Begin All New Wars") against the Gloojuns of the Perspedia Chain. June: The crazy blossoming of science and industry as a result of the war will lead to the latest breath-taking technology in flag-raising, just in time for Flag Day. Someone named David will come down with some sort of a cold, even though he was sick just in March and can't believe he's sick again, especially now that the weather's so nice. Another sheep will be cloned, sending waves of panic through the other people who are working to clone another sheep on their own. The Sheep Cloning Gap will affect the Association of Woolwrights, who will soon relocate their headquarters to Triton, moon of Neptune. Union members will abandon wool and work with on a soy-based substitute for pleather. I must remember to get something nice for Dad for Father's Day. I am late on a phone payment because I simply forget to send it in. Fires are mysteriously set all throughout Texas, but, much to general consternation, the state endures. July: The world will be rocked by the discovery of Jesus living on the Yxtlarp planet in the Srapler Quadrant. He will have difficulty remembering Earth at first. He will eventually recall it with the words, "Oh yes, that noisy planet." July 4 will be celebrated, with the addition of Quebec, who will have formalized its independence from Canada. Businesses will recognize Shirtless Fridays, a result of extreme global warming. President Bush (yes, yes, I know) will be injured when his air scooter is hit by a Vershang tradeship. The government is not affected, as it has been run by his handlers since Day One. Heroic vigilantes begin a campaign in which idiots who ride their bikes on sidewalks are pulled off and beaten with said bicycles. Playstation 16 is introduced just days after editions 13, 14, and 15. In an agreement according to the Pact of the Milky Way, the fresnet of Euripides is recognized as the legal currency of the United States. The exchange rate with Quebec is 7:1. Blue Whales become extinct. Bluish Whales are brought in from Alpha Centauri to replace them. Pravinson: The traditional calendar is abandoned as it is discovered that our solar system is in fact orbiting a larger one that has meaner people who demand it. The number of people living on space stations stabilizes at 39%, as the stations are unwieldy and tend to be sucked into the sun. Coincidentally, this same month, the Intergalactic Entertainment Committee names the inside of the sun the Galaxy's Loudest Place. Gravity is introduced to Uranus, bringing a fortune to those entrepreneurs who've invested in ball bearings and other friction-reducing devices. President Bush will be impeached for Compromising National Security through "Rank Idiocy." Al Gore is imprisoned under a new law forbidding "General Smarminess." I learn how to breathe underwater (hopefully). An adult human, Eve Doe, is successfully cloned. An air scooter accidentally kills her as she crosses the street upon leaving the laboratory, proving nature vs. nurture in learning to look both ways. The Association of Woolwrights is destroyed, as they did not realize that the moon Triton was inexorably spiraling into the Neptune, as it has been for thousands of years. September: The traditional calendar is reinstated, as it becomes hard to keep track of birthdays and when rent is due. Also, the meaner people of the Outer System are destroyed in the Great Intergalactic War II ("The War To Continue All Wars"). Bicycles become obsolete when a certain Dexter Sopko discovers a cheap urine-based fuel that lowers the prices of air scooters. The August Brigade, composed of people who had birthdays in the forgotten month of August (including both of my parents), stage an uprising demanding that August be held. They are quickly subdued, as it is really too hot to fight, and people on space stations tend not to pay all that much attention to months anymore. Oddly, it is revealed that 67% of people born in August or Pravison live on space stations. My parents resist the trend. The French try to purge their language of foreign words. They are subdued embarrassingly quickly by a single platoon of soldiers from Planet Nirthia, who just seem not to like them. The autumnal equinox is an inexplicably chilling event -- just one of those vaguely, really unsettling days. October: Bush beats the impeachment because, let's face it, he's really rich. A big month for the Reds, who go on to win the World Series in six games over Chicago. Magloxma is the first Jupiterian to play professional baseball. A cathode ray gun is developed but quickly abandoned as being "grossly ineffective." In this month, I truly have a hard time believing how fast this year is going, thereby joining millions of others who have felt this same way since March. I am excited when I receive a raise on the ninth, my sister's birthday. I must remember that Geoff and Jen celebrate their first anniversary on the twenty-first. Halloween is a ho-hum affair, as freaky-looking aliens have become a part of everyday life since the First Great Intergalactic War. Scientist Jergen Gruffhauser discovers how to keep the leaves from changing. The same Nirthian soldiers that invaded France beat him senseless, as they have no patience for this kind of nonsense. November: Coca-Cola introduces a new carbonated soft drink, Chomayo, which combines the taste sensations of chocolate and mayonnaise in a cola. It is an abysmal failure on Earth and in space stations. Coca-Cola's stock takes such a nosedive that the whole planet's economy is in turmoil. Luckily, the general stability of the fresnet in foreign systems saves us all from ruin. Greg has a birthday. I give him a six-pack of New Coke, which we both find funnier than it actually is. I blow a little bit of snot when I laugh, but it doesn't faze Greg, because we are good friends, and that's how friends should be. I reflect that it's the little things in life that make this world worth living, no matter how crazy things get, even with the Great Intergalactic War III ("The War To End The First Great Intergalactic War") and all. New York remains relatively dry, which is nice. Air scooter traffic mucks up the Thanksgiving commute, so Americans vote to ban the holiday. People begin to wear futuristic unisex, monochromatic unitards with little emblems on the left breast. Boots remain popular footwear. Merchants who put up Christmas decorations before December are drawn and quartered, using air scooters, as horses have become extinct. It seems as though horses are the main food source for Bluish Whales. Ostriches are bred to replace horses, but they just don't have the pulling power needed for a good draw-and-quartering. December: Daily disposable computers are the gift craze this Christmas. Carrot Top retires, causing millions of people to yawn in unison. This sudden change in air pressure causes ocean levels to rise, finally washing much of Florida and California to a watery grave. A whole generation of children is deafened when the yawners stop to pop their ears, post-yawn -- the result being that MTV is doomed. This fine publication celebrates its first year with financial gains of over 42 million fresnets. Humans learn how to fly, but it's just so cold it's not worth it. Viacom buys a controlling interest in Christmas. Jesus is "disgusted by the whole thing, really." I have to work between Christmas and New Year's, which is just silly. Still, I do not complain, as it is the season to be thankful for what I have (especially since Thanksgiving has been dissolved). I get an air scooter for Christmas. The future is bright, indeed.
By Brady Richards
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