Don't bring a gun to a snowball fight

Ah, the air is thick with a pungent fresh aroma that can only be classified as New Year Smell, a blanket of slush partially obscures all the sins and filth of the previous decade and we march boldly forward into what for this grumpy curmudgeon is indelibly labeled "the Future".

New Year's Eve was a more social event than in many recent years, with both food and good company at multiple remote locations, culminating in an impressive snowball fight that began with scarcely fifteen minutes left on the 2009 clock and ended with but seconds to spare before the future became the present and the present became the past.

Thus far our shiny new decade is still looking remarkably like our tarnished old decade, the skies yet undarkened by flying cars, our bleached white skulls relatively uncrushed under the feet of our robotic overlords, and nothing wonderful has happened as of yet in the frozen oceans of Europa.

Still, 9 years 363 days to go to we hit the cyberpunk years of the 2020s, and a lot can happen in that time.