Rest in piece

Life in a permanent state of emergency is tiring, yes — but it’s only ever a snapshot in the long roll of history.
A step into the future? Physically impossible, say the physicists.
And stepping back into the past? Equally off-limits. It exists only in memory and photographs, with a red warning sign at the entrance:

“Enter at your own risk.”

A useless sign, really — since the past can’t be entered at all, only remembered with that slightly awkward look of regret.
Still, for some, the temptation to return to familiar times remains strong — to live in the comforting spiral of repetition until the end of days.

So here we are again, at “The End Is Near.”
And with it, the old rituals step back into the spotlight:
New Year’s Eve - or Sylvester - without Stallone, but with the usual mix of reflection, regret, and premature excitement for an already overburdened 2026.

Changed? Of course. Every year feels changed — mostly because we are.
My memories of New Year’s parties have always been mixed, and they still are. A celebration of the past 365 (or sometimes 366) days is, after all, a sentimental gesture — a toast to time itself.

Just before midnight, we whisper our tidy little wishes to the new year, hoping it behaves better than the last.

But before we look ahead, let’s dare a look back.
Fair warning though:

“This content may not be suitable for the overly sensitive, the cultish, the extreme, the slogan-addicted, or the eternally stuck.”

Because 2025 was hot — too hot.
It boiled its way to the top of the climate charts.
Normal became “state of emergency.” Floods, wildfires, droughts — the perfect storm of irony.
At least it raised pressure to politician for stronger environmental protections and renewable energy.

As for the COP 30 in Belém, Brazil — it doesn’t even deserve a line.
It achieved about as much as its carbon footprint suggested: nothing.

And democracy? It’s no longer quietly slipping into fascism — it’s galloping there in broad daylight.

Was there anything good in 2025?
Surprisingly, yes — though you might need a microscope to spot it.
Some politicians are rediscovering creativity and courage.
Citizens are getting louder, braver, more critical — and, thankfully, still peaceful.

Hope — still coughing, but with colour returning to its cheeks — has climbed out of bed.
She’s back, holding hands with that beautifully clumsy spirit of résistance that refuses to die.

As waiting for 2026?
Waiting is not on my list.
This beautiful blue planet is far too crooked to allow for idleness.

Recently, I allowed myself a short trip back to the 1970s — and my mood lifted instantly.
History, it seems, loves to repeat itself — probably due to a global shortage of imagination.

I remembered the protests in the streets. I was there for some of them.
Kaiseraugst never got its nuclear plant.
Two Schwarzenbach initiatives against immigrants were washed away down the Rhine.
And those tram sit-ins — long-haired, peaceful rebellions against the nonsense of the day.
Even the student protests for more democracy in schools had style.

Demonstrations are a fine invention — a people’s tool for tapping politicians on the fingers when they forget who they serve.
That’s why “demo” remains the living core of democracy.

So yes, I’m optimistic — and curious about 2026, with all its coming storms and surprises.
For now, I’ll get to work on my grassroots action plan for 2026 – proudly made in Canada.