Another brand spanking New Year, an excuse for first footings, new beginnings, reappraisals of all that transpired before in a vain attempt to correct erroneous happenstances and be as sparkly as a newly unboxed pin. Such is the mission, playmates, if you feel equipped to take part, to dream such impossible dreams, to imagine life a fair and even playing field, where right always come out on top and all things nasty and unpleasant are guaranteed to fail miserably.
Great Expectations, apart from a wonderfully hopeful novel, with an exceptional tale of a ne’er-do-well making good in the twilight of his existence, written by that paragon of Victorian virtue Mister Charles John Huffam Dickens, a nomenclature he acquired quite inappropriately considering his fascination with all things seedy and questionable, are a hope most praiseworthy in any soul. Anticipation of better things to come is after all the bedrock of most of humanity, even though year after year the baby is most decidedly cast away with the sudsy water.
Profound aspirations perfuse you all!
