That's going to hurt....
Well, we're two years and counting from what some would suggest to be the end of the world. Doomsayers will have you believe that the Mayan calendar has the world coming to an end in December of 2012. Not so doomsayers will point out that the Mayan calendar only comes to one end before starting another. And hack filmmakers will make the most of it.
The prophecy zealots will have you believing that oceans will rise, cities will fall, mountains will tumble into each other, dogs and cats will be living together in sin, and Washington DC will be obliterated from the face of the earth. Scratch that last one. It's Secret Protocol #33 from the Tea Party's To Do List. Oh, and lest we forget, John Cusack will be driving away from calamity at top speed, wondering whatever happened to the days when he played interesting, professionally fulfilling roles.
Remember all that fuss over Y2K? The computer glitch that might cast us all back to the Stone Age? Well, at least until that particular fuss completely fizzled out. I thought of all those survivalists who were proclaiming the end of the world, heading off into their customized bomb shelters to wait out the apocalypse. Wouldn't it have been perfectly ironic if their shoddy construction (can't trust a government certified construction company to do the job you can do yourself!) had failed, causing their deaths? In those last seconds, the survivalists would have thought this is it! The end of the world! And they would have been crushed to death, never knowing that no, in fact, the world hadn't come to an end.
I would suppose all of this doomsday talk is at least understandable. After all, we've got a complete idiot thinking she can run for President... in 2012. Doomsday zealots would surely tell you that's a sign of the apocalypse, right? At least a sign of doom for rational thinking.
I think some of the blame must go to Nostradamus and the nutbars who buy into anything he says. Have you actually read anything by this man? It's all so vague and metaphorical that you can interpret it any way you see fit. In fact, I would suggest that all of his visions might well have been inspired by his marijuana habit. Come on, people! A weed addiction would at least explain it! I submit to you that we have to dig up whatever's left of Nostradamus, cremate it, and mix it in with the weed his current day believers are smoking. It's only fitting.
Which brings us back to the Mayans. Why should we take their word for the end date of the world? These people couldn't even predict their own demise! I remain dubious of their prediction skills if they didn't see the Spanish coming.
Allow me to suggest this scenario. It's 1488. No, in the common calendar, not the Mayan calendar. In the grand plaza of Chichen Itza, the Mayan people are going about their business on just another typical day. And walking about on the plaza grounds, wearing a sack cloth and looking perfectly crazy, is a Mayan carrying a sign. Repent! The Spaniards Are Coming!
His fellow Mayans will look at him the same way you and I look at any such contemporary nutcase carrying a sign down Madison Avenue reading Repent! Mel Gibson Is Coming!
"That crazy old Biff. Always going on about one thing or another. By the way, what's a Spaniard?"