A solitary ray of sunlight cracks through the curtains, penetrating the dank grime of the post New Year’s Eve party carnage, announcing the dawning of a new age. For dramatic effect, Edvard Grieg’s Peer Gynt morning suite is playing in the background. You cast off the filth and scrum of the night before (it was a particularly heavy party, we can assume), and you stand before the sun, naked as the day you were born, sreaming in the face of the eternal, “THIS TIME WILL BE DIFFERENT! I AM THE MASTER OF MY OWN DESTINY!”At least, that’s what a lot of us plan to do, anyway.…