It’s law in most Western countries that, just before the end of the year, every magazine must run a piece about the dos and don’ts of Christmas parties, the year in review, New Year’s resolutions, or a twelve-month retrospective on must-have party dresses. Similarly, in January most magazines are required to include at least one article that makes predictions for the year ahead.
These year-predicting articles are lazy and usually a true sign that the author has nothing of substance to say, or a shallow (at best) understanding of politics, sociology, and the human condition.
MY PREDICTIONS FOR 2013.
The Prime Minister will announce something the government will call an ‘initiative’. The Opposition will vehemently oppose this initiative, either claiming that the original problem was better handled under the Howard government, or that they themselves have a better initiative. The Opposition will not explain what their alternative initiative involves, because they prefer to save that kind of information until after they’ve been elected. Just trust them.
Tony Abbott will mention his daughters.
Alan Jones will be a bit of a dick, and it won’t make a single jot of difference to one person.
Bindi Irwin will finally rebel against Terri, wearing full-height stiletto heels made of crocodile skin.
The dollar will become so strong that we’ll start shipping entire department stores in from the US, including the carparks.
The number of asylum seekers arriving here by boat will remain steady, but the government will propose to put all legitimate refugees to work as carers for the disabled. The proposal will be rejected for being too practical and ‘problem-solvy’.
Star Wars will suck monumental arse.
Somebody will make a musical about Schapelle Corby called Bali High and one of the songs in it will rhyme ‘weed’ with ‘freed’. The character of Renae Lawrence will be rewritten as a helpful parrot that visits Kerobokan prison to lift Corby’s spirits with motivational chit-chat.
There will be days that are colder than usual and days that are warmer than usual, so everyone gets a chance to claim that their climate theory is the correct one.
All Australian domestic flights will be free of charge, however it will cost one thousand dollars to get the sliding doors to open at the destination airport. You’ll basically be able to see any airport you want to in Australia without payment, unless you want a coffee, which will cost you the usual eighteen dollars fifty.
Electricity prices will continue to increase, forcing people to use less electricity and subsequently lessen their impact on the environment, the bastards.
Bored feminists will lobby for it to become illegal to use any of the phallic-looking letters of the alphabet.
Kanye West, still raw from the breakdown of his relationship with Kim Kardashian, will start dating Marilyn Monroe, the re-animation of whom is made possible by proceeds from his new album ‘Kanye, Kanye, Kanye, Kanye Kanye’.
Cricket Australia will introduce fifteen-minute matches, in which players have time to walk onto the field, scratch their balls, spit on the ground and then leave again with their bats in the air, acknowledging the crowd. Points will be awarded for speed, technique and distance. Alcohol outlets at match venues will sell quadruple-strength beer in order to reach the customary quota of streakers and Mexican waves within the reduced timeframe.
Women’s cricket will not be televised much.
Lindsay Lohan will be arrested for not fulfilling the main requirement of her most recent court order, which is primarily to avoid being arrested.
Bill Shorten will take his surname literally and ask to just be referred to as ‘B’.
Cardinal Pell will announce that the Catholic Church has found a hitherto undiscovered passage of The Bible that mostly talks about how awesome keeping secrets is, and that the statute of limitations on crimes committed by priests is fifteen minutes.
The popularity of ‘Mummy Blogs’ will wane, being replaced by an enthusiasm for blogs about executives, blue-collar workers, and unwitting government patsies. As the children of the mummies who started the original mummy blogs reach puberty, their blogs will almost universally become known as ‘Drinking Blogs’.
Same-sex marriage will edge ever closer to becoming a reality, with the Australian government allowing gay couples to register for gifts at David Jones, Louis Vitton and Chemist Warehouse.
The Block, Masterchef, Celebrity Apprentice, The Voice, and Australia’s Next Top Model will all merge to become one giant reality show, to find out who in Australia can most melodically vomit up a commercially viable tarte tatin into a toilet they built themselves.
The next Big Pop Music Sensation will be five auto-tuned foetuses all stapled together and dunked in glittery wax.
It will become a jailable offence to show more than four of the seven signs of aging.
Plastic surgeons, not satisfied with making merely obscene amounts of money, will start spreading rumours about how embarrassing it is to have an old-looking ribcage or tired-looking ears, and offer painful but effective corrective procedures.
Dick Smith will become so incensed at the thought of any Australian dollars ending up offshore that, more often than not, you will find him waiting for you outside your supermarket with a calculator and a shotgun.
The Liberal Party will discover from secret, faceless sources that as a child, Julia Gillard once stepped on a crack. They will start a campaign demanding she be sacked for showing gross disregard for the safety of her mother’s back.
Taylor Swift will have a failed relationship, but will just shut the fuck up about it.
After watching a re-run of Grease, Clive Palmer will abandon his plans to build an Australian Jurassic Park, and focus instead on building an exact replica of Rydell High, complete with animatronic Sandy, Danny, Kenickie and the gang. Gina Rinehart will seek to hold a minimum of three seats on the board of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, with the aim of using the Sorting Hat to tell her children that they’re “getting nothing and that’s final”.
A new food allergy will emerge, striking down thousands of sufferers who are sensitive to the over-use of adjectives in food. Affected people are advised to avoid health food shops and the menus of hatted restaurants.
Q&A on the ABC will change its name to just ‘C’, as Tony Jones eliminates both questions and answers, deciding instead to just take everything as a comment.
By law, cigarettes will be packed in actual human lung tissue, and will only be sold to customers who can solve Sudoku puzzles at the counter. The really hard ones.
Natural disasters will be outlawed for the entire year to give everyone a chance to rebuild their homes and dry their carpets out. Any natural disasters found to be breaking the embargo will be given a terrible name and/or be subjected to woeful puns in newspaper headlines.
There will be eighteen days during 2013 that the Mayans predict will be the end of the world. Doomsday soothsayers will start announcing that the end is nigh on erasable whiteboards, just in case they’re wrong again.
Finally, close to the end of the year or the beginning of the following one, someone will trot out a list of meaningless predictions in lieu of actually writing something.
Because they can.