By Patrick La Roque
The year of Trump and Kander's visual riposte, inescapable. The year of my mom's slow and painful passing. The year of Tokyo and Cologne and Brussels. The year of old and new friends. The year of Bowie and Cohen and Brubeck and Prince and Glenn...newsreels and soundtracks grinding to a halt in fits and starts and bitter scratches. 2016 has been a year of paradoxes: taketh, giveth, taketh away again.
Well, fucketh.
Below are the ones that matter, the things that bring me joy, the big and the small. As we wind down the year I'm standing defiant, right here, my feet firmly planted on these quaking grounds. I'm looking tomorrow square in its face, ready to begin anew. Ready to fight 'til my fists turn bloody and my legs give way.
What we love is all we have.
What we love is the ultimate celebration.
