(sips liqueur) I predict that Something is going to happen Somewhere tonight. There. I've said it, and I'm glad.
Prognostication is an ugly sport. I've read enough Nostradamus to know that prophesy is in the eye of the beholder.
Unless one starts naming names, that is. Early in 2006 on Internet Infidels I predicted the death of Slobodian Milosevic, and I was right. I also made some other, more vague predictions and scored about 67% overall.
Which brings me to... Confirmation bias.
We tend to remember the hits and overlook the misses, unless someone is keeping an honest and objective count. Most of My hits are items that I can see impartially. Most of the misses are things where I got my hands dirty. You see, if I *want* something to happen, it turns into a kind of full-contact Jeopardy as I word My desire in the form of a prediction.
It doesn't work. For one thing, it's conflict-of-interest. For another thing, it tips My hand.
So don't expect me to tell you what I'm really up to.
Other than finishing this glass of Chartreuse, that is.