The List archives:

Fat cats: To your gilded litter boxes! We, the sheeple, all 7 billion of us, are occupying these pages!

We're beyond declarations now. We have demands. A whole list of them, somewhere between the number of federal programs Rick Perry would cut and the total population of Ubeki-beki-beki-beki-stan-stan, as plentiful as the overpriced whoopie pies we shovel into our mouths while rummaging through other people's storage units on A&E. Arab spring? American winter? We have treasonal affective disorder. Dictators and madmen fell with the U.S. credit rating, but even Charlie Sheen's self-impeachment couldn't topple "Two and a Half Men," which continues to cripple the soul of the nation in 30-minute increments.

But it gets better! (Ish.) The List makes order out of chaos, democracy out of anarchy, reason out of Terence Malick. And we have a helper this year:

"Siri, please provide some direction."

"Where would you like to go?"

"2012"

"I don't know where that is."

Fine, we'll get there ourselves.