Apocalypse Eve, 2012

If the world's going to end tomorrow there's presumably nothing we can do about it, which makes right now pretty much the same as any other day. The funny thing is to get worked up about such an absurd possibility on account of a calendrical oddity.

Perhaps we should examine our preoccupation with the imagined significance of of our arbitrary and artificial calendars' curiosities, but if tomorrow's doomsday we'd have made a wasted effort doing it now. We'd best hedge our bets and wait to see if we get an extension tomorrow.

Should this prove to be my last post, dear reader, maybe I'll see you in Mayan hell.


  1. Mayan hell will probably have some pretty cool creatures. I'm looking forward to it.

  2. At least there will be puppies. OH wait, that's Aztec, maybe Mayans don't do the dog thing.

    Honestly, I think there's a sort of romanticism to the end of the world, and that's why people love to hang on to silly predictions like that weird Christian guy's last year, or the misinterpretation of the end of a Mayan b'aktun. I actually just wrote a long piece in my journal about how I almost wish it would happen. There's something just so pleasing about looking at the end of things- an end to strife and problems, a reason to get your shit together and to tell the secrets you would regret to die with, should you have them.

    "When the sun burns out, will any of this matter?"