Now that the Sydney Sweeney blue jean advertisement (which was also my Halloween costume) has faded from the national discourse, it's safe to say that we've healed as a nation. The political divide is no more; the left and the right are dancing with each other in the streets, and everyone is happily sitting around the Thanksgiving dinner table discussing the latest Jimmy Kimmel monologue, and laughing among each other without name-calling or yelling.

However, even as we approach the event horizon of a unified nation, one thing still seems to divide the aisle. I am, of course, talking about PornHub...

How does someone sell a year to another person? How can we explain the events that occurred for roughly the last 330 days and still make it sellable? Was your previous year of life worth rehashing and remembering? Do you enjoy going through the photos you took or the saved events in your calendar? Do you remember the majority of them? Even after this, do you think you could sell your year to someone, and make them want to do a Freaky Friday with you, swapping bodies for that year? Have them saying, “Man, I wish I had been you this year!”

If your answer is yes, congrats. I'm happy that at least one of my readers out there did something fulfilling with their time. You deserve the champagne and kiss at midnight on New Year's. If your answer is "No...WTF?" then welcome, fam. May my year in review be something you can either live vicariously through or be happy you weren't there to be a part of. Do make note that these memories should absolutely feel slapped together like Elmer's Glue on a kindergartener's piece of "art," because they are all coming from my phone's photos, screenshots, and calendar events. I've also provided one highlight of that month, so we can compare to see whose month's highlight may have gone better. I'll let you decide...

Sorry folks, no comedy this month. No listicle. More of an obituary, really. While Monqui and AEG break ground on this "mid-sized" venue in Lloyd Center, smaller…I guess "micro-sized" venues? How 'bout "nano" venues are shuttering left and right. Apparently, Crystal Ballroom and Revolution Hall are "small-sized" venues, so what I'm referring to are essentially bars with stages. However, these…"mini” venues are the entry points for basically anyone trying to begin their live music career. To say they’re essential is an understatement—and they can't seem to hack it.

Earlier this year, St. John's premier local live music spot—The Fixin’ To—didn’t close, but it did shut down its stage and replaced it with an arcade. The official reason was operating costs. I attended one of the final performances with Rayon and The Fur Coats. Fantastic show, but obviously the mood was somber. I could never get the straight story, since I'm not in the inner circle, but like always, the culprit was money—not enough of it. Betty kept hammering the point home that you gotta go to the venues if you want them to survive. Don’t eat before the show; venues have food in Oregon. Eat there. Get more drinks, damnit. Pay the cover. Etc...

Bah. Humbug. I know it's popular to hate Christmas, but for most, it's not hated for the right reasons. Formerly a celebration of the birth of Jesus of Nazareth, ya know, that guy who got nailed to a big "t" and became a symbol of divinity, as a result of Roman carpentry mishaps. However, it has turned into an absolute steam engine of crass consumption. I can get behind hating it for that, but we're going to explore exactly why it should be disliked in greater depth than obligatory gifts and greeting cards. There's a lot of history here, and no matter your religion, let's unpack it. If you love Christmas, that is fine. I'm not taking a steamy dump on the premise of the holiday; it's just the equivalent of that guy at work who rubs you the wrong way, despite never personally doing anything to deliberately mess with you...