The fireworks explode in the sky, sending their flares to smolder out another year. People drink their drinks and embrace their wicked passions should old acquaintance be forgot. On TV, the ratings skyrocketed as the militia moved into the country. People forget who they are sometimes. The hopeless have their gods and fictions to order their lives. “Here’s to the new year,” they raise their glasses and drink in the spirit of the age. “Let it be better than the last.” Yet, every year they curl up in fetal position and bitch about how the year was horrible. “But this coming year looks promising.” In the country of misleading constitutional propaganda, apes were ushered into the capital to make the rules for the less fortunate.…