Witticism in Paradise

Thank god Harold Camping was wrong (twice) or else I wouldn’t be here telling you what the highlights—and lowlights—of 2011 were.

Dictatorial Death of the Year: Kim Jong-Il? Nah. Osama? No-sama. Gaddhafi? Nope. The most notable despot that died in 2011 was Gustavo Fring. I don’t care if he wasn’t a real person. I’ll take a guy whose face gets half blown off, yet still manages to straighten his tie and walk a few steps before meeting his demise. Even if Vince Gilligan was pulling the strings.

Most Warranted Jeer of the Year: Every fan, Nets or not, for heckling Kris Humphries at his games in this young NBA season. The guy got to have sex with Kim Kardashian for a good while, if he’s gonna stop so suddenly, we should be pissed.

Where Were You When of the Year: Had a bunch of these moments this year: Osama’s death (Crosby rehearsal), start of Occupy movement (in my car on the corner of State and Hawley), Binghamton’s new president (in my car, pulling onto Route 80 in a dense fog). It’s nice to still have these moments in the heart of the Information Age where finding things out isn’t as big a deal as it used to be. However, there was one “where were you when” moment that wasn’t as momentous as the rest, which leads me to…

Much Ado About Nothing of the Year: 11:11 on 11/11/11. Let’s face it, this was probably cooler in the year 1111.

Best Services I Did Myself of the Year: Number One is finally going to Israel. That trip was pretty boss. That land was holy, but definitely not holy to the point where I couldn’t walk. The other good service I did myself this year (though on a totally different scale) was taking up Breaking Bad and Mad Men. I have great admiration for fans of the shows who’ve watched them live and have had to endure excruciatingly long off seasons. Now it’s my turn. Fuck.

Favorite Sports Headliner of the Year: The most notable story in sports in 2011 was the NFL lockout. It came, it went and we got a full, exciting-as-always season of football. Even though it took no games away, save for the Hall of Fame game, the prospect of losing a single regular season NFL week had America at its knees. No worries, Mr. Saturday ensured Sundays would be okay.

My Favorite Republican Presidential Candidate of the Year: Come on, it wasn’t gonna be anyone but Herman Cain. Between his smokin’ campaign ads, references to Pokemon and forced playtime with former female employees, this dude stood out from the bat-shit crazy pack of caricatures of people.

What’s in store for 2012? Michael Phelps smokes the competition in London, Obama beats Romney for a second term, Kim Jong-un becomes the butt of a lot of jokes, Everyone realizes Harold Camping was an ancient Mayan reincarnate without a calendar.