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The New Decade Actually Starts Next Year Because There Was No Year Zero vs. Yeah, You May Be Right, but You’re Still a Nerd

Written by: Aniela Drumonde


The New Decade Actually Starts Next Year Because There Was No Year Zero

By Blake Bierbaum
Future Ph.D, MS, BS

I’ve noticed something particularly erroneous in the everyday colloquialisms of my fellow classmates. Though not a very large discrepancy, I believe it ruins the verisimilitude of what the year truly and obsequiously is. To put it plainly, as a self-professed finder of panacea, a locator of the lamentable, I have taken a dogmatic pledge to dismantle all forms of embarrassing incorrectness. As you fellow quixotic intellectuals may have already guessed, I seek to make known the incorrect framing done by non-enlighteneds (this is what I call those not in the know [this has only caught on in the most discerning of groups]) noting this year, 2020, to be the start of the new decade, when the start of the new decade will obviously be next year.

I nobly hope those reading this will realize the error of their ways, lest they lead myself and my fellow brethren into another 2010 scale fiasco. Thank you and you’re welcome.


Yeah, You May Be Right, but You’re Still a Nerd

By Yasmin Prentiss
Officially Tired of Your Shit

Do you feel special? Do you feel smart? Is your thesaurus app the first thing Siri recommends you use every morning? Come on, I don’t even think you used even half those words correctly. Let people have some semblance of fun in the face of their dwindling futures. If people want to call this year the start of the new decade, I have some advice for you: literally this does not affect you. At all. Show some tact and ignore it.

Seriously. I’m all for correctness, but if you make someone feel bad for having any kind of relief over the idea of new beginnings — over having more motivation for fresh starts and feeling hope for the first time in a long while — what you’re doing isn’t for their sake, it’s for yours. You need to get a grip. I understand that your fear of the unknown has you latching onto any kind of control you can reasonably use to feel like you exist in any way that matters to other people, but I’m too numb from everything else going on right now to even feel sorry for you. Time isn’t even real. Fuck off.

EIC Elect at The MQ

Former Editor-in-Chief. Like an ouroboros, her jokes consume themselves until no one knows whether they were ever funny. But they are.

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