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Tales from Exit 22, By Al Batt

I opened the door and a robed visitor accompanied by sitar music walked in out of the dimming twilight. The renowned mystic from the Far East part of the township, the fabled soothsayer, the seventh son of the seventh son of the seventh son, the oracle from just down the road; Swami Davis, Jr. stopped by to give me his predictions for 2021. He knows little but suspects a lot. He excels at predicting everything but the future. Swami can see around corners, but on his way in he stepped in an enormous pile of steaming 2020.

The Swami has been indwelled by a spirit of divination and is a muse of unearthly clairvoyance. The Swami sees all, knows all and reveals all to those who proffer tribute. A savant of such gifts that within his psyche lie the limits of human understanding. As a fearless, feckless and foolish seer, he is without peer despite being hampered by unreasonable zoning laws discouraging the ancient Roman practice of haruspicy (divining the future by examining the entrails of recently slaughtered beasts). In an uncertain world, the Swami brings more uncertainty to light. He’s been called a bum seer and a purveyor of impaired prognostications, but his mother declared him “uncannily accurate.” Swami is a reader of palms and tea leaves, taking an orange pekoe at the future. His crystal ball is back from the shop after having its foreteller replaced.

“Swami Davis Jr., who illuminates the dark corners of our culture, whose knowledge is beyond compare. By contrast, Nostradamus was a flawed speculator. Oh, wise Swami, thou vessel of infinite wisdom, who is omniscient, omnipotent and omnipresent, tell me, your humble implorer, what the future holds,” I entreated, knowing that most of my future lies ahead. I was atwitter with anticipation.

Swami is a cowboy who rounds up predictions. He sees into the future by turning his car’s rearview mirror backward giving him a Magic 8 Ball in the corner pocket. Even though he believes you can’t handle the sooth, here are his bold, yet intentionally vague, predictions for 2021.

Rod Serling (creator of “The Twilight Zone”), who directed 2020, won’t be directing 2021, which diminishes a snowball’s chance in hell.

Pink Floyd builds a wall around Washington, D.C.

Future solar and wind farms will be built on golf courses.

The stock market goes up, down; like a merry-go-round and ‘round.

HBO produces a series featuring flying dragons with vaping habits.

Stalactites found to be petrified cash register slips from drugstores.

The Loch Ness Monster is seen, caught, photographed and fried up in a nice batter by a walleye fisherman from Minnesota.

Charlie Brown is elected to the NFL Hall-of-Fame.

A politician runs on the platform to raise taxes on the stupid and receives 100% of the votes.

Conspiracy theorists take a day off. The world flattens.

2021 will be called 2020 so people can forget last year ever happened.

Punxsutawney Phil is accused of being fake news.

Your pedantic brother-in-law will explain once more why you are an idiot. Brother-in-lawsplaining is worse than normal mansplaining.

Remote learning leads to remote forgetting.

Law passes requiring atomic wedgies to be performed only by trained professionals.

The success of cardboard cutout fans leads to cardboard cutout players.

Investigators investigate the investigators who were investigating the investigators.

The Cleveland Browns admit they haven’t played a game in four years. No one had noticed,

Outraged Republicans claim Democrats are outraged. Outraged Democrats claim Republicans are outraged.

Tom Hanks plays Meryl Streep in a movie of her life and Tom Hanks in a movie of his life.

The Minnesota Vikings claim they won every game and ask for point recounts on each defeat.

As a show of unity, no two members of Congress will agree on anything.

A potato chip maker admits to putting microchips in vaccines.

A new species is discovered in a local school’s lunch program.

TV shows will have 10-minute episodes to match our attention spans.

Wile E. Coyote and the murder hornets receive presidential pardons.

The Big 12 Conference drops to 8 members and the Big 10 expands to 16.

No statue of you will be taken down.

The internet catches on.

Amazon builds distribution centers on Jupiter and Saturn.

The team with the fewest COVID-19 cases will be declared the winner of the Super Bowl.

Shoveling, plowing and shivering make winter crabby.

What went around will come around. Tomorrow will be another day — probably last Tuesday. The good times will roll. Onward and upward. Excelsior!

Al Batt’s columns appear every Wednesday.