The year 2024, a period in which human folly reached new heights—or should I say, plummeted to new depths - served as a testament to the enduring spirit of humanity, especially in the face and spirit of absurdity. It was a year of a veritable parade of human ingenuity, where we all collectively decided that if we couldn't make things better, we could at least make them more ridiculous.
First, we had the elections, a global carnival of democracy where the voters, ever the masochists, were left with the unenviable task to choose between potential leaders either with the charisma of a damp rag and the moral fibre of a chocolate éclair whose primary qualification was their ability to look confused in front of a camera.
Kamala Harris promised to solve homelessness by giving everyone a free tent and a map to a nearby woods, after taking over the Democratic nomination from Joe Bien, who had promised to solve climate change by issuing a stern tweet at the sun. Meanwhile, Trump promised to end poverty by suggesting everyone should just "try being rich". Trump, in true reality TV fashion, clinched a second non-consecutive term in the White House, proving once again that politics is just another form of entertainment.
In the UK, the political landscape was so bleak, you'd think the weather had finally won. The new PM, Sir Kier Starmer, elected on a platform of "vagueness with a hint of confusion," pledged to solve the housing crisis by suggesting everyone should just share beds in shifts.
Starmer managed to make the country's exit from the European Union look like a masterclass in organized chaos. Brexit was finally "done," in the sense that it was now an ongoing, perpetual motion machine of bureaucratic bungling. The grand plan for Brexit was to keep on "exiting" until everyone forgot what it was they were actually exiting from in the first place.
This year, economic analysts predicted a boom in toilet paper stocks due to the sheer volume of crap we were dealing with. But, in a twist no one saw coming, the market was flooded when it was revealed that most of what was being produced was actually being used by politicians for their speeches. The result? A toilet paper surplus so vast, we started using it as currency in some places, leading to the world's most embarrassing inflation.
In Europe, the political scene was a comedy of errors where leaders competed to see who could ignore the climate crisis the most creatively. One suggested a "carbon footprint reduction" strategy that involved everyone moving to the moon, because, clearly, space is the new green.
On the international stage, summits turned into stand-up comedy shows where world leaders took turns promising peace while secretly plotting to outdo each other in hypocrisy. The UN became a platform for nations to compete in the "Least Action, Most Talk" awards, where the winner was the country that could say "we're doing something" with the straightest face, while doing absolutely nothing.
In health news, we saw a surge in diseases we didn't know we had until influencers told us about them on social media. "Chronic Instagramitis" became a real thing, characterized by the inability to post without a filter, leading to a national shortage of duck faces. Meanwhile, the latest health craze was "quantum detoxes," where people paid top dollar to sit in dark rooms, convinced they were expelling negative energy. Spoiler: it was just gas.
On the technological front, AI continued its inexorable march towards rendering humans irrelevant, except, of course, for providing the raw material of human error for AI to correct. We saw the launch of "AI Politician 3000," which was so advanced it could predict when you were going to sneeze but couldn't understand why humans continue to elect absolute clowns, and although it was unable to lie convincingly, it at least managed to mimic human indecision with startling accuracy. One AI even ran for office in a mock election, proving to be more honest than most human candidates, though, tragically, it lacked the essential trait of all great politicians: the ability to lie with a smile.
So-called "Smart Homes" got smarter, the only difference being your refrigerator now being capable of arguing with you about your choice of breakfast cereal while your toaster judges your life choices. Space exploration took a hilarious turn when Elon Musk announced the first Martian housing development. The catch? No gravity meant your furniture floated, leading to the world's most expensive game of "catch the sofa." The first homeowners association meeting was held in zero gravity, where everyone agreed on one thing: no more floating pizza parties.
The entertainment industry, never one to be outdone in the stakes of surrealism, gave us films where the premises were so convoluted, they made quantum physics look like a nursery rhyme. One particular blockbuster involved time-traveling dinosaurs who, for reasons left unexplained, were running for mayor of New York. We were treated to films that had budgets larger than some countries' GDPs for stories less believable than a politician's promise, where the plot was so thin you could read a newspaper through it.
Reality TV shows continued to show us that the only reality was how low humanity could go. One show, "Who Wants to Be a Political Figure?" featured contestants doing absolutely nothing for weeks, mirroring actual politicians rather accurately, as well as "Survivor: The Office," where contestants competed to see who could stay awake the longest during a Zoom meeting.
Environmental news was dominated by the Great Barrier Reef's latest press release, stating it was considering moving to the moon for a better chance at survival. This, after the ocean temperatures decided to flirt with the boiling point, leading to a new trend of having more "Green Fridays," where everyone wore green to work, completely ignoring the fact that their commute involved fossil-fuelled vehicles. Climate change, in response, decided to escalate from "annoying" to "apocalyptic," but hey, at least we got some great social media posts out of it.
And in the realm of culture, we witnessed the phenomenon of "quiet quitting" evolve into "silent resigning," where people simply forgot to show up to work, hoping their absence would be taken as an artistic statement on the nature of employment in the late capitalist era. "Art" simply became whatever you could sell to someone with more money than taste, which culminated in the art world embracing "conceptual nothingness," where the concept was to charge exorbitant prices for absolutely nothing. One artist sold an empty gallery space for millions, arguing that the art was "the absence of art itself."
And so, as 2024 fades into the annals of history, we're left with the bitter realization that our political leaders have turned governance into an art form of incompetence. Here's to 2025, where we can only hope the political jabs become less satire and more reality check. But let's be honest, that's probably as likely as finding integrity in a politician's soul.
Happy New Year Everyone !!