Every new year brings hope, the prospect of spending more time with your loved ones and less time with your family - if you're into that sort of thing - and the possibility that world leaders may get something right for once.
But every new year has a darker side. A side that says “shut up and give me your wallet.” A side that lurks under the bed, hides in the back seat of your car and fills minutes on 24-hour cable news shows that should have something better to do with its broadcast time.
Every new year gives us another reason to worry.
In recent years we've had Y2K, the Tribulation that didn't happen in 2004, and the UFO behind the Hale-Bopp comet that was going to swoop a bunch of computer programmers up to heaven, or a 7-Eleven, or someplace like that.
What will we worry about in 2006?
Just wait until June, because by June, people are going to get weird. Hunter S. Thompson weird. Madonna being named a Nobel laureate weird. Yikes.
Why's June so special? How about June 6? How about June 6, 2006? How about 06/06/06? Yeah, 666 - the Devil Day is almost upon us.
Oh, yes, the apocalypse is coming. Start hording ham.
What will actually happen on June 6? Eh, who knows? But I guarantee more people will be in church, write books about the end being near and go on Jerry Springer to get hit with a chair.
The number 666 makes people goofy. I once worked with a person who wouldn't give out the office number because it had three sixes in a row. It's just a number. Until the antichrist shows up and forces us all to get the mark, or a chip implant, or a really boss tattoo, 666 is just the number after 665.
Shopping for a barbecue a few years ago, I saw a package of hamburger for $6.66. I bought it and served The Beast Burgers. Everybody laughed and had devils food cake for dessert.
My advice for June 6? Just sit back and watch the world act silly. It'll be a lot like a family reunion, only with less bloodshed.
Oh, and watch out for the antichrist.
I once met a guy who said he was the antichrist. He tried to sell me insurance, so I threw an empty Jim Beam bottle at him and set fire to his couch.
It was the best Christmas ever.