Imagine if the mighty stream of history, like a river striking an obdurate rock, might be divided in twain. In one universe, perhaps, events as we know them have taken place, but in the nearby parallel universe, Mr. Spock has a goatee and everything good and normal in our native timeline, there, in the negative universe, is backward and bizarre.
Once, perhaps, this concept of a divided timeline was the speculation of physicists or the plotline of science fiction shows. But in 2017 we saw this in stark reality.
It is customary for pundits and windbags to pen a year-in-review column in the last week in December, as this is a magical time, a twilight zone, between year and year, when it is proper to take the measure of how far we have risen or fallen. It is a time to laugh at fears now proved to be false fears, and to dismiss as vanity hopes now proved hollow. It is also a time of year when it is proper to remind ourselves that man is mortal, and our years on Earth are numbered and known, and shall not come again.
But I will pen here no year-in-review, because, believe it or no, two years just went by, not one.
The year that went by for me, in the universe I share with conservatives, libertarians, and true Americans was one of unparalleled triumph, victory, and gains so grand I fear we shall grow tired of winning.
The year that went by in a strange parallel universe, isolated by the gulf of alien dimensions from us, as foreign as the timeline where George Bailey never lived, was a year of unqualified misery and woe, and the tears of the self-righteous never ceased to flow.
Normally, it would be impossible to see from one self contained continuum to the next. The laws of physics prevent it. But, in this case, thanks to a phenomenon stranger than the quantum entanglement or the paradox of the Einstein Rosen Podolsky spooky action at a distance, we all were able to see and read newspapers, news broadcasts, and hear editorial commentary from the strange creatures inhabiting the antimatter universe.
For the sake of convenience, and in honor of the season, let us call our universe Bedford Falls. And let us call the bizarre antimatter universe Pottersville.
Let us next list the events of the year, pop-cultural, social, economic, cultural and political.
Pop-culture
In the Potterverse, 2017 saw the unveiling of the long-awaited Star Wars: The Last Jedi loved by all for its strong trans-feminist message, its portrayal of men as toxic oafs easily beaten by untrained girls and browbeaten by blue-haired harridans, and it affirmation that the past must be burned in order to make way for Year Zero. There are no heroes. Nothing in life is worth fighting for. 93% of reviewers agree.
But in the Bedfordverse, Social Justice Wars: The Last Film in the Franchise was a middle finger from the ungrateful, peevish, grinch-grinning filmmakers as the sole repayment to a fanbase remaining fanatically loyal for forty years. All the mysteries and plot threads were answered by the film equivalent of telling us to bugger ourselves, the various plot holes were stupid, and beloved characters were desecrated, humiliated, and killed, and no actions had any consequences. 55% of filmgoers agree.
It goes on in like vein. I enjoyed writing it, and hope you enjoy reading.
