Tomorrow is the last day of 2014. The year was, by turn, “turbulent”, a year of “tragedy, crises and hope”, a “year of mysteries” the “year of the unthinkable”, and of course, a “delectably good year for sleaze“.
But after all the reviews, analyses, photo-galleries, critiques, and head-scratching about the past year, lets just leave it to John Oliver to sum up.
Finally, it would, of course, fall to the very end of the year to offer a story so heartbreaking it almost defies the telling. But perhaps the saddest thing of all is that it will, without a shadow of a doubt, be far from the last story of its type.