If new years are like decks of cards, Members, let’s all get our cartomancy on in 2020. With a little divination and Surrealist rearrangement, 2020’s 52 weeks can provide egress from binding suits of hacked tropes and boorish one-eyed royals. So last year is the violence of clubs, the greed of diamonds, the over-emoting of hearts and the wearing grooves of spades. No longer will courtesans colonize us into two-dimensions. 2020 demands nothing less than finding the flames, stars, wheels, and locks that guide our genius, our siren and our magus. And in order to make an alchemic leap from playing cards to reading tarot, you will need to get guerilla. You will need to find the enigmas. You will need a Pancho Villa revolutionary vision to flip what seems gravitationally stuck. If you draw a sinogram too many, shuffle your hand and discard whatever seems like a character too many. Whatever the mantras that moor you, use the mirror of magic and mix that shit up. Squawk and gronk away; there are no wrong notes, only mothers from another planet. Though surreality can make for some free-floating tomographic disorientation, its hyper-dimensional pataphysics also promises the imaginary solutions of ubu roi to ubu cuko to ubu enchaine to ubu sur la butte. So act the anagram and riddle yourself a new year. Indeed, if all anagrams lead to rearrangement, and all years lead to the future, be the laminae glue rings. Be the airmail glee guns. Be the guerilla. Be the enigmas. Going forth into 2020, remember, you are a member and poetic ferns cruise forks.