I hope this letter finds you in good health - these are uncertain times after all. Very much uncertain ...or, at least, uncertain for you. Mahaha! While you have fettered away the last year with this charming little blog, Gorka been busy. For you see, not even a pandemic of - ah, unknown - origins can halt the Vitézi Rend. So won't you join me, Mr. Chapo, in toast to an eventful year!

I am not so vain that I cannot commend the skillful moves of an enemy. Early in the year, your Mr. Sanders performed admirably, considering the hand he was... given. Not that victory in the primary would have made a difference against the backdrop of my machinations! The presidency, Mr. Chapo, was always a red herring! It matters not who sits in your elliptical office; Biden, Harris, Vermin, or Sanders - pah! Even my use for Mr. Trump has wained. The levers of power that govern your nation are but a child's plaything to The Dragon of Budapest!!

But I owe you another admission, my dear Mr. Chapo. A master strategist must recognize the hand of fortune when it graces his plans. A lesser man would call it "fate". But not Gorka! No, to curry such luck requires action beyond that of mere mortals. Aha, so it would seem to a fool, of course. You cannot tell by the text of this letter, but I am winking.

And so, as your leaders gnash teeth and wail over petty stocks, I leave you with this:

Pray for luck, Mr. Chapo - as The Game lives on!

AHAHAHAHA!!!