The End of the World, Take # 479, Pragmatism Has Its Advantages

goodinbed

I was fortunate enough this weekend to pretty much not have to do squat.  So I didn’t.  It was lovely.  I missed seeing my granddaughter, but I had such a horrific headache yesterday that it was good for me to simply stay in bed.  After awhile I felt better and figured since I pay for premium cable (mostly because Jerry has to have all those stinking sports channels I don’t watch) I might as well watch TV.  The only thing that sucked is that it seems right now everything on TV is all centered on the same theme- that 12-21-12 is going to be the end of the world.  Never mind that the Mayans, while technologically advanced, were superstitious enough to pull beating hearts out of live humans, to sacrifice to demons.

sacrifice

I really want to trust my apocalyptic timing to guys like that.  I think that the whole Mayan calendar thing is sort of the same concept as going through the calendar on my cell phone and coming to the conclusion that the world must end on December 31, 9999 because no programmer thought it necessary for there to be a provision for a five-digit year. Never mind that by the time the year 10,000 rolls around either a.) all the humans will be dead, or b.) if there are humans they will be using different technologies than we use today.

People have been trying to set a date for the end of the world for forever.  Odds are they’re wrong this time, just like they were back on May 21, 2011.  And all those other times too.

the-end-of-the-worldIs this the End of the World- or just Detroit?

Let’s face it, the odds are against the date setters, and if I were God (good thing I’m NOT) I wouldn’t let them have the satisfaction.  I’d pick a day and a time that’s completely off the radar and surprise everyone which is exactly how God said He’s going to do it:

(Jesus said-) “Therefore keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord will come.  But understand this: If the owner of the house had known at what time of night the thief was coming, he would have kept watch and would not have let his house be broken into. So you also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him.” – Matthew 24:42-44 (NIV)

I don’t know when the End of Days is going to be, and I’m not really that worried about it, because it’s one of those things I can’t change, but I could almost bet it won’t be on December 21.  Maybe whenever it is, it will be at the end of February when the world (at least Central Ohio’s portion of it) is at its most dark, dreary and depressing.

There are, however, websites devoted to Doomsday 2012  who claim true believers with all the credibility of Britney Spears.  Yeah, the crazy chick who went nuts and shaved her head.  I’ll believe it when Ozzy endorses it.

ozzy

Ozzy Rocks!  Never mind he’s the same age as my Dad.

I just don’t see too many believable authorities giving the 12-21-12 doomsday theory much credence. Unless proven otherwise, as far as I’m concerned, the doomsday sayers are simply modern-day Millerites.  We’ve all heard that noise before. NASA has pretty much shot down most of that hoo-hah.  I figure if these guys could send people to the moon and get them back then they probably know a thing or two about stuff that’s going on- or not going on- in outer space.

Speaking of outer space, you really don’t hear much about UFOs anymore.  I mean, they’re sort of in the same category as Bigfoot.  I’ll believe there’s such a thing as Bigfoot when someone can either capture a live one or find a carcass.  How can a giant ape live in the forest without ever leaving a dead body or even scat?  I mean, bears live in the forest and they leave carcasses and scat.  People catch live bears too.  It would be as if someone is alleging the existence of redneck men but can’t provide evidence of beer cans, Hershey splatters in the toilet bowl, and a trail of cigarette cellophanes and dirty clothes behind them.  Redneck men exist.  Even should they try to hide, we can prove the existence of the redneck male by virtue of all the PBR and Natty Lite cans and Slim-Jim wrappers they leave behind, as well as all the fudgy whitey-tighties.

rednecktatooUnfortunately, most rednecks are not shy.  Even when they should be.

I think I should have some sort of celebratory “The World’s Still Here” party on December 22.  Then again, that’s the day I will probably be at CVS around midnight, buying all the candy my sisters don’t want my nieces and nephews to have.  This year I am really only bothering to buy the good stuff for my granddaughter.  Steve-o has already gotten a high dollar pair of shoes and a car seat to put in his car- early- so I’m not getting him anything else.  I got Mom a velour sweater that isn’t fugly, and I got Dad a gag calendar (so far) that has Toilets of the World on it.  I’ll probably also get him some socks and some long johns or something.  It’s hard to buy for the man who has a taxidermied squirrel on a skateboard.

toilets-of-the-world-calendar-2013-5239-0-1345046806000At least Dad appreciates my humor.

The End of the World According to elysianhunter, aka: the Bucket List Condensed

Well, well, our friends the modern-day Millerites are here to tell us that the End of the World is upon us tomorrow, so I better get busy on that bucket list.  May as well go out on a limb and check out the street fair on Morse Rd.!  Go for a whirl on the “Ring of Fire.”  Snarf down greasy sausage and funnel cakes and chili-cheese fries, cholesterol and trans fat be damned!   Of course the odds of the date setters being right are pretty slim, so I think I will follow that self preservation instinct and stay away from the street fair.  If the cholesterol and trans fats from the greasy fair food or the hazards of riding on or standing near shoddily assembled rides that date back to the 1960’s don’t kill you, the drive-by shooters likely will in that area.

I’ve never been terribly impressed by armchair eschatology.  End of the world prognostications have been going on since the beginning of time.  I’ve come to the conclusion that regardless of when the world ends nothing I’m going to do will change the timing.  So if it’s The End across the board, or just my personal end, it really doesn’t matter.  The number one rule of humanity is that death is inevitable.  Physical death is part of the package.  Whether I expire all by myself, or in a blaze of glory with the rest of the world, is immaterial at that point.

It smacks of hubris to claim you know the day and time the world’s going to end when Jesus Himself said He didn’t know.

(Jesus said:) “No one knows about that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.” Matthew 24:36 (NIV)

I really don’t think it’s a good idea to claim you know more than Jesus does.  Just saying.

I asked Clara her opinion, and all I got from her was her WTF glare.  Malinois are probably one of the most intelligent dog breeds, but she’s still a dog.  She licks her own butt- and she’s not above crotch sniffing, but I will give her credit for knowing her limitations.

Movies with the apocalyptic theme are ever-popular, whether they be based on the 2012 Mayan calendar hoo-hah, deadly plagues, alien invasions, or asteroids.  That genre is getting a bit tired, although I did enjoy the book version of The Stand.  Personally, if I want to be scared by a movie, give me an old ’80’s slasher, or dig out the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

Tomorrow I am not going to do anything differently.  I need to take Sheena to the Vet (not looking forward to that) and get Steve-o’s tags for his dune buggy (the BMV on a Saturday- joy!) Then my plan is to come back home, do more laundry, and possibly watch the Journey Live in Houston 1981 DVD and crank it up really loud because Jerry won’t be home.

If the world would happen to end and the last thing I see is Steve Perry in 1981, at least it would end on a pleasant visual for me.


Just watching the wheels go ’round.  I wish I could.  At least if the merry-go-round collapses nobody should go airborne.

Here lately I have been busier than I care to be at work.  I like being busy and I like the overtime, but I really don’t like coming in on Sundays.  Thing is, if I don’t get something accomplished over the weekend I will be so buried by Monday that I will never catch up.

If there is a Monday (he-he.)

Murphy’s Law will almost guarantee it.  The world won’t end at a convenient time, and the apocalypse won’t be some sort of deus ex machina that will magically aspirate my carcass out of the latest shit pit.  If the End comes during my lifetime, Murphy’s Law would dictate that I would be in the middle of something either pleasurable or interesting.

Examples:

Coming and going at the same time (as if I would be lucky enough to get lucky…)

The world ends suddenly upon receipt of the winning $5,000 Target gift card up for grabs in the sweepstakes I enter probably three times a week.

The world ends suddenly upon the discovery of an affordable and effective method to permanently remove superfluous body hair.

The Apocalypse will likely not occur when I’m already being tortured and sudden death would be a preferable option.

I can assume the End will not commence whilst I am:

At the BMV

At the Dr.’s office

Enduring one of Jerry’s drunk and stupid late night rampages

When I’m getting chewed out (deserved or undeserved)

No deus ex machina for me.

BTW- don’t cancel your plans for Memorial Day Weekend just yet.

Lilo is watching you.