It’s that glorious time of year when we make wild and wholly unfounded predictions for the coming twelve months. It is, of course, a totally pointless exercise but good fun, anyway. Here’s my best shot.
First, in the world of music, another young man with a very high voice will release yet another song that sounds like your nan’s wallpaper. He’ll be hailed as The Next Big Thing for an hour or two until it dawns on all concerned that he closely resembles every other male singer from the last fifteen years, at which point there’ll be a collective yearning for a bloke who actually sings like a bloke. When it becomes apparent that there aren’t any in the offing, Barry White and Johnny Cash will once again sell lots of records.
In politics, some people will say some very popular things and then will be called ‘populist’ by people who don’t like them. They will also be called ‘a breath of fresh air’ by people who do like them. Everyone on all sides will subsequently run around with their fingers in their ears yelling ‘Can’t hear you! Can’t hear you!’ until they collapse in a heap, furtively clutching a small screen hoping that one or two people they hardly know will validate their unsolicited opinions and, indeed, the absurd nature of their existence. Well, one or two people they hardly know, or their mum. It’s all the same, really.
Social media, then, will relentlessly offer the modern day equivalent of the tragic Greek tale of Narcissus who fell headlong into a puddle of lager while taking a selfie. Or something.
In the world of sport, footballers will continue to spit copious amounts of phlegm hither and yon ad hoc, showing scant regard for Covid legislation or, indeed, basic good manners. Snooker players will still be playing in empty, freezing theatres wearing layers of jumpers which make them all look like Big Bill Werbeniuk in his heyday. However, the modern chaps will have to content themselves with a Cup-A-Soup and some hot chocolate as opposed to Big Bill’s 417 pints of beer. Per frame.
The economy will trundle on regardless with many countries trillions of euros/pounds/dollars/Monster Munch in debt to many other countries they may or may not have heard of, with no-one actually ever paying any of it back, while ‘expert economists’ proffer vacuous nonsense about GDPs and peaks and troughs to vaguely normal, dignified people who, generally speaking, can’t even work out how the hell that fifty euro note they had in their pocket this morning has miraculously transformed itself into a fiver, a two euro coin and a bus ticket, when they only popped out for a thin white sliced and a tin of corned beef. Or maybe that’s just me.
Anyway, however 2021 unfolds, I hope it brings joy and blessings to all.
Happy New Year.