Rabbit, Rabbit!!!

hello, 2010.
happy new year.
it's officially the future.

2010.

o1-o1-10.

now that's something.

a skaldic stanza of binary business.

a space odyssey serenade.

a whole world of possibilities,

but also just a number.

y'know,

it's what you make of it,

and the time you take with it.

fortune still favors the bold.

so be that.

***********

we all chimed in with a good-luck salutation to the newborn baby year.

rabbit, rabbit-

two times. in a row.

once for the new year, once for the first of the month.

we said it proud and out loud,

beseeching the secret universal plan to shed a favorable light,

and blow a favorable wind in our direction.

aesir aegis accolades for the first full year ahead in our very own place.

it's good to be nestled in, looking out onto the soft snow,

from the hearty hearth of a happy home.

midnight at the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress was pretty quiet,

but everybody stayed up anyway to ring in on the big momentous minute.

...as if i'd had a choice;

the large daybright night circle in the sky left me no other option.

sleep is elusive when the lycanthropic gravity of the big cheese wheel up there

pulls and provokes the agitated energy of the beastly war drums in my heart.

plus,

even with the big downy flakes falling,

and the complete cloudcover,

it was light enough outside to read by.

a new year.

a new decade.

a new day.

today.

it's the big day.

just like every day.

resolutions?

to remain resolute in the just-be-dopeness of Folk Life worthy really-real living.

i mean,

what else is there to do?

***********

ya'll ninjas may not be keeping count,

but today is also another 'nother milestone.

what else could be going on besides hangover remedies and sleeping in?

well,

this is the hard-style woodsly goodness, yeah?

we've got the berserker bedlam,

we've got the barbarian bonfires blazing,

and we've got non-stop bloody battle being brutally blown about.

all of that.

normally,

if you think you've got my number,

you probably already know what number that is;

(eleven, obviously.)

but today's new year blog post puts the HELL in hell yeah.

it marks the rise of the beast.

by brewing it with burly burning brimstone;

we're kicking off the new hottness

with a shout at the devil;

you know it:

this is my 666th chronicle of really-real rural reality.

six hundred and sixty-six documentaries of worthy warrior poetry.

today really IS the day.

maybe i should've said 'rabid, rabid' when i woke up?

so that's what's happening.

really.

i can't imagine a sophisticated mephistophelical method

for making this one any fresher.

no faustian fey pact to usher in a beelzebubbly barter,

no satanic sanctions or luciferocious financing

to strike a crossroad crossword accord a la robert johnson.

this is as good as it gets.

another year older,

another year wiser.

ugly, broke, broken, and dope.

the man i've become is the man i always imagined.

happy new year;

never quiet, never soft.....