Thursday, December 20, 2012

The Eve of Destruction

Here we are at last. After decades of dire warnings and preparation it is finally the eve of destruction. Well at least it is according to more than a few people who have been able to divine that bit of information from the Mayan long count calender. The calender ends tomorrow and so, these prophets say, will life on the planet earth.

Panic buying of doomsday supplies are being reported both in China and Russia. It would seem the Chinese were inspired to this panic by the 2009 disaster movie, "2012" starring John Cusack. Apparently it was a big hit over there because in the film the Chinese military builds a few high tech arks which saves the the worldly elite and a few commoners who manage to stowaway on them. In fact there are accounts of con men in Shanghai working the elderly crowd, asking them to hand over their savings in one final act of charity. Why the con men, or charities would need the cash if the world is going to end hasn't really been explained, but hey, who cares about details when you're staring into the gaping black maw of Armageddon.

In Russia a newspaper article, purportedly written by a Tibetan monk, confirming the final curtain has caused a rush on everything from candles, to flashlights, to salt. Over in the French Pyrenees the mayor of the village of Bugarach has put the mountain, Pic de Bugarach off limits to outsiders. The word on the street is that the flat topped peak is in truth an extra terrestrial airport: that the ET's who walk among us are going to flee the doomed planet from the summit taking along a lucky and no doubt chosen, few humans.

The cause of our demise is a bit fuzzy. Some believe the mysterious and undiscovered planet Nibiru, aka Planet X, will come crashing into us. Others say it will be a comet that has been stealthily lurking behind the sun. Then there are claims of vast solar flares wrecking havoc. I personally blame it on the reality TV show "Here Comes Honey Boo Boo," but that is just me.

Also unclear is what time the catastrophe will occur tomorrow. There has been a shocking lack of concern about the exact hour and time zone. I mean I want to know if it is going to happen at say one minute after midnight, or noon. I have a bottle of fine Irish whiskey ready to go, but I want some heads up before I twist off the cap and start to dance a jig. Coping with Gotterdammerung and a killer hangover all at the same time will simply be too much to handle. Indeed, I want that perfect buzz, that sharp cutting edge of both impairment, yet complete awareness when my species takes its final bow.

In the end, as it were, I beg your indulgence. If no one is going to be around to read this blog after today I feel editing and spell checking are both exercises in futility. Besides I've always been a bit lazy when it comes to such drudgery.

It was all fun though, at least most of the time anyway. And now comes the moment to say good-bye. Unless, of course, all these idiots are wrong and tomorrow is just another cold windy December day here on the southern plains. But that couldn't be could it? After all plans have been laid, supplies bought, and mine shafts occupied. Some even have their passports handy so that when they get to Saturn there won't be any hold ups at customs.

No, this is it. It has to be. Too many insist the end is well-nigh. Government denials are just a cover up. 

So, see you on the other side. Don't forget to bring your toothbrush.

Mr. Scott, one to beam up.

Over and out.


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