This column originally ran Oct. 22, 2009.

Well, it’s that time of year again. With too many midterms and not nearly enough sleep, let’s focus on something bigger than you, me and our Facebook relationship status.

That’s right–it’s time for New Year’s Resolutions. But wait, you say–aren’t those for January? Technically, yes, in the Oprah-engineered world of self-fulfilling goals and 12-step happiness via intellectual euthanasia schemes. I’m not talking about those kinds of resolutions. Rather than focusing on some abstract notion of “self-actualization,” try thinking about it in a tangible, evolutionary sense. In the grand Darwinian scheme of life, you should be using your energy to improve your relative sexual fitness. Your success, indeed, should be as flashy as a male peacock’s turquoise plumage. There’s no better way to win at resolutions than giving yourself ample time to (1) tilt the game in your favor, (2) modify implausible goals and (3) fabricate results, if necessary. In this, you have an admirable predecessor: Karl Rove.

Yes, yes, the former special advisor to the president; he’s on your side in one of his more artsy columns in The Wall Street Journal. Apparently, he and W. each read 96 books or so during the presidency. Now, my putative occupation is reading and learning, or so a man at JJ&F’s claimed when he saw me at one of the outside tables with a textbook (little did he know it has a secondary function as a napkin for cranberry sauce). That being said, I certainly am not reading more than one book a week. So, since Karl asserts these are neither books on tape nor the abridged versions of childhood favorites like “Goodnight, Moon,” I’m not sure how the Commander in Chief managed to squeeze this in while running the country. Maybe Cheney really was in charge. Or, Karl Rove is…exaggerating. Never saw that coming.

Now, the usual resolutions are pretty cliché and boring, and saying you plan on exercising more everyday won’t wipe the smug look off that girl from your high school’s face. Your goals need glamour, sex appeal and, above all, must seem exquisitely esoteric. To this end, I will humbly make a few recommendations based on my own observations:

Learn a foreign language, but be sure to pick one spoken by less than 100,000 people who have little to no contact with the outside world. This will avoid any nasty confrontations in which some woeful inadequacy on your part might be revealed.

Start wearing existential black turtlenecks and use the online Postmodernism Generator to establish your opinions on cultural matters. It’s a healthier way to be cool than smoking.

Become a Southern Baptist. Putting the fun in fundamentalist since 1845!

Feature yourself as a “classy drinker.” No Malibu.

Win a few Nobel Prizes. Take it from me–the first time is always awkward, but it gets better.

Buy some Aqua Velva. It’s like a liquid pick-up line!

Stop watching The Hills under the pretense that its artistic integrity has been compromised by Lauren’s departure.

These are just the tip of the iceberg, and there’s a whole world of outlandish commitments you can make if you put your mind to it. If these aren’t exciting enough for you, go find inspiration by putting things in perspective at what I like to think of as the birthplace of un-civilization: Las Vegas. Imagine what all your friends will think when you come back and tell them you married the guy with hair gel who beat you at blackjack twice in a row.
Like most people, you’ll probably be sick of your commitment after two to four days (see: the divorce rate, circa now). At the same time, you don’t want the Republicans playing pin the tail on the flip-flopper with you as the main roast. This is where the real genius comes in–you deny that it was a resolution at all. It was made before all the facts were in, so be pragmatic–it’s not all about winning; it’s about cutting losses, too. Make an appearance on SNL, if you must, to appease the proles. Will a few folks call you flaky? Sure, but a commitment is only ever as good as what you’re committing to.

Emily Hulme stands by this column still. Email her at [email protected].