Winter holds us fast in his grasp. 2011 breathes its last.
2012 is upon us. A new year, rising from the ashes of the old. I have little doubt that it will be only a little less apocalyptic than the Maya foretold. But we shall see. I make no predictions tonight, other than this: whatever darkness lies ahead, there will be another dawn. It may not be sunny to some, but dawn it will be.
I vow to see it.
"Last of all Hurin stood alone. Then he cast aside his shield, and wielded an axe two-handed; and it is sung that the axe smoked in the black blood of the troll-guard of Gothmog until it withered, and each time that he slew Hurin cried: 'Aure entuluva! Day shall come again!' Seventy times he uttered that cry..." -- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion, Chapter 20: "Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad"
Wassail, friends, and Happy New Year.