Happy N-ewe Year!

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I wish I had thought of making this image at New Year’s when the time was right. Oh well, never mind.

But really, what is this about the year of the sheep? The year of bland conformity? The year when the corporations win their fight to turn us all into obedient brainless automata that will obey, believe, work, and go shopping?

We should be afraid. Very afraid.

I checked online to see whether this really was the year of the sheep — or the ram or the goat, but even the people who think up these things didn’t seem to know. The exact species of animal kept changing with every site I visited.

It seems to be the year of the non-specific bovid.

Or perhaps I’m looking at it the wrong way. Perhaps there is some association with sheep, rams, goats that I’m missing.

Got it!  It’s the year of the kebab. That sounds a lot better. I’ll go with that. Chilli sauce with my 2015, please.

Belated Happy Year of the Doner to everybody!

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About chrispagefiction

Author of the novels Sanctioned, Weed, King of the Undies World, and The Underpants Tree; also the story collection Un-Tall Tales; editor, freelance writer and all that stuff. At heart he is a London person, but the rest of his body is a long-term exile in Osaka, Japan.
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