Pauls Valley —
Ever since man first learned to appreciate the world around him there has been someone there to try and kick dust in the eyes. For some reason, through legitimate science or just self hate, select individuals have been determined to find as many ways we could collectively shuffle off this mortal coil as possible.
The frightening possibilities include a comet, second ice age, Yellowstone park or possibly too much exposure to Wal-Mart’s labor saving products. We just don’t know and that absolutely drives end of the world theorists nuts because so far their record on picking the right day to say so long and thanks for all the fish is about as successful as OU’s men’s basketball team this year. I have to give them credit though for having the dedication to inspire so many terrible movies.
One of the most popular doomsday creations to get an awful film adaptation is the theory that the Mayans predicted that the world would suffer a fate most foul in 2012. Nevermind that the calendar that has unearthed so much paranoia wasn’t so much an end to existence, but of a cycle before a kicking party, we instead must find a depressing way to get ourselves ready for more disappointment.
The problem is that if you happen to pick the actual date of ultimate demise is that the award ceremony for being right doesn’t give you much company to celebrate the feat with. It’s not like picking a Super Bowl or World Series winner where it might matter to people if you could spend the winnings you bet. Besides, I doubt even if humanity survives such a bummer of a experience that people are going to spend every day going, wow that guy sure is a hero for having the right guess about this one.
I also have to wonder if there is some sort of retirement plan for those who spent their lives telling us they knew how the final curtain would go down. I don’t see why the government couldn’t fund and set up a home for end of the world fortune tellers.
Can’t you picture the thrilling dialogue from “Boy I tell you I predicted a real doosy when man dropped the bomb” or “Please Mr. Ricky take your medicine, you can continue your man eating poodles story after nap.” I mean what else do you have to look forward to if you can’t quite get over the fact that maybe your time could have better been spent living for the now. However, we might want to keep those cult guys out of group therapy.
It’s not that I think that the world will remain forever intact as it is, I simply don’t see myself adding any more stress to my daily activities than what occurs naturally. If I knew things were coming to a close in a short amount of time I wouldn’t spend it trying to make sure everyone freaked out about it.
I’m a lot more concerned about making sure I pay my bills or maintaining an awesome beard than thinking about how I can stockpile canned sauerkraut and processed cheese. And if I’m a man who enjoys heaping on preservatives when grilling season starts. Now quit your depressing spiel and pass me the ballpark franks.