A journalist's New Year litany:

From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggety beasties, and things that go bump in the night, especially Carl Sagan's redundant warnings against nuclear weapons and nuclear winters,

Good Lord, deliver us.

From all media managers, admen, political consultants and other assorted straphangers and horseholders (and their eager collaborators in our own ranks) who are poised, even now, to launch the 1988 presidential campaign at least a year too soon, in this your year of grace, 1986,

Good Lord, deliver us.

From all pet peeves that sour and annoy us; from loan sharks and used- car dealers who fly oversized American flags as advertising devices, and from hooded churls who wave the banner of Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson; from the cynical ignoramuses in Hollywood and New York (or wherever) who mangle the noble history of this republic in "docudramas," and especially from sequels to "North and South,"

Good Lord, deliver us.

From all the jargons that encrust our lovely and supple language, from parameters and inputs, and especially from your "being there for me" or my "being there for you,"

Good Lord, deliver us,

From all yuppies, muppies, buppies and puppies (except, of course, the real ones), from Gary Hart and Claude Pepper and all who make a cause and cult of the body clock in politics, young, old or in-between; from all cultists and merchandisers of ethnic and sexual differences and distinctions,

Good Lord, deliver us.

From further movies about Santa Claus or spies; from further suggestions that the late Orson Welles, genius though he was, knew how to act or film Shakespeare; from imitations of or sequels to "Ghostbusters," and indeed from the thing itself; from further tours de force in broken English, whether Polish, Danish or otherwise, by Meryl Streep,

Good Lord, deliver us.

From all "updatering with some of his work.