The sheer number of opinions I've formed over the course of a lifetime is beginning to feel burdensome. I'm going to have to cut this number down, get rid of some, do some year-end winnowing. Then I can go into the new year with a more manageable quantity of opinions, streamlined, so that at the very least I can remember what my opinions are when called upon. In the future, any new opinions must displace old ones, so that the overall load is kept stable and opinion bloat is deferred if not arrested. If at some point I come to a conclusion about, say, the films of Alexander Payne, that assessment will require me to give up my judgment concerning the novels of Paul Auster. If someone were to notice the Paul Auster books on my shelves and ask me what I thought of this Paul Auster guy I'd have to simply shrug and smile in a tight-lipped fashion to indicate my neutrality on the matter. This won't be as big a problem as some people might imagine. For many people the idea of being opinion-free on any subject under the sun is an utterly unthinkable notion. Many people apparently believe that things, people, and situations exist solely to furnish opportunities for the creation of more opinions in their delightful brains. Some opinions aren't worth bothering with because they are so common, one more voice isn't going to make any difference. Did the world change when, after months of thoughtful consideration and long ruminative walks by the ocean, I came down firmly and publicly against child abuse and email spam? Some opinions are more trouble than they're worth because they go so completely against the grain of what is considered reasonable. Did the world change when, after months of thoughtful reconsideration, I came down decisively in favor of child abuse and email spam? What are opinions for, in the final analysis, in the possession of people who are powerless to impose them on others? If an opinion is commonplace then why bother to express it, and if it's going to get you into trouble or even force you to articulate your reasons when you could be making chocolate fondue then why bother to express it? Or sweet potato pie for that matter. What would you rather cram down someone's throat, some fleeting whim of an opinion about reproductive rights or a delicious morsel of homemade sweet potato pie? People should hoard their banal opinions and their morally questionable ones, and the rest—the teeming middle ground of inoffensive sentiments about things that don't really matter anyway—should be doled out in moderation and only to captive audiences, like loved ones and students and non-union employees, people who basically have no choice but to sit there and listen and pretend they're interested.

I'm going to fiddle around a bit before I settle on a final number, a maximum number of opinions I'll allow myself going forward, but I can tell already that while some painful losses are in store there will also be ennobling benefits. I might have to lose my positive regard for Balthus, for instance, but at the same time I can rid myself of my distasteful bias against all women, instead becoming merely indifferent to them, but also, alas, indifferent to Balthus. Definitely a bittersweet situation.