(Gentlemen of this Omega-Level circle: Before we count down to the inevitable ball-dropping that lies ahead of all our lives, let us first be resolved to kick off the new year the right way: by not letting the new year kick us down where it really counts, because when after all is said and done, and this beloved touchstone of yours truly is beheld and registered, we will assuredly have the drop on fate if we each hold dear to what is most true about ourselves.)

Every man has been there before: toppled over in anguish, made nauseous from a strange throbbing tinged by an existential crisis over his safety in this chaotic world. Left prostrate, the man can’t make any sense of it, his groans the primordial questions to the universe: Why does this have to hurt? Why do I have to suffer so much for something so absurd? And as the pain gradually fades away and the man tries to move on, the questions remain unanswered, the memory lodged in the back of his mind to feel out another day. It’s one of life’s greatest mysteries for mankind—getting hit in the nuts.

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