It’s been said that to expunge an abstract yet malicious force, one must give it solidity.
A name. A face. Something solid to drive the stake through and end it, right and proper.
Such is the case with 2016, a year that’s best described as “a flaming clown car of misery”. We’ve spent a good chunk of the last 365 days trying to anthropomorphize this particular chronological cycle as some kind of metaphysical horror-movie slasher. Well, we’re nearing the end credits, folks, so before it gets one last swing in today, I’ve been working on a solution.
See, I’ve given 2016 a physical form, and a name to bind it to this plane…and we’re going to kill this motherfucker before he gets a chance to sabotage 2017 before it even starts.
This is Emmex Vei. The year, made tangible. And you’re going to help me kick him square in the balls and out the door.
Here’s the gist:
Having channeled all the hate, fear and tragedy of the past year into this well-dressed and infinitely vicious piece of shit and branding his real name on his head , I came up with the follow-up plan to thus destroy him. But Emmex is a strong and persistent malignancy, so it’s going to take more than I’ve got here.
Here’s where you come in.
I need you to print this effigy of pen/ink/Photoshop and defile/destroy it how you see fit. Light it on fire. Tear it to shreds. Grab a handful of crayons and cover him in crudely drawn penises. Whatever it takes to diminish and weaken him before you strike the final blow.
At the very least, it’ll be cathartic. There isn’t a person I know who hasn’t had an especially rough time of it this year, and I’m no exception. There will be no resurrections, no sequels, no carry-over into the new year. If we’re going to get the fresh start and the tiniest glimmer of hope… Emmex Vei/MMXVI/2016 MUST FUCKING DIE!
And maybe, just maybe, we’ve got a fighting chance starting tomorrow.
Happy New Year, one and all. May the fates protect us.
Share the hashtag. Put this fucking monster in the ground.