By Josh Willcocks
To paraphrase NASA: If you’re reading this then then your pathetic existence must be on-going – the Mayans were wrong and the world didn’t end… and if you thought it would you’re a goon. Let us rejoice in the obvious outcome: our continuation!
You will undoubtedly think this subject done to death and consequently I must offer you my in-sincerest apologies. If every other regressed troglodyte is able to spew their two cents into the virtual cesspit then I see no harm in crapping mine in along with them. What better way to celebrate the festive season than with a frank look at planetary obliteration and total human extinction?
I’m sure you spent the moment of supposed annihilation on the big 21.12.2012 watching TV or tweeting or ankle deep in some other inane occupation; quite a different scene from that in which most of our American counterparts probably partook – 40ft underground, amid a Himalayan prospect of canned goods, clutching an automatic rifle – how ridiculous our ‘prepper’ friends must now feel!… That is until the next prophecy comes to light. I myself spent the minute quaffing a shot of premium vodka; only to aid combustion when the infernal fires rose from the ground or when the fabled alien death rays vaporised me (I think it okay to drink in the morning if the world is reaching its conclusion).
Disregarding the fact that this whole charade was debunked well in advance of its fruition, science apparently still took a backseat to superstition – in many parts of the world at least. Here it seems we went about our business quite as usual, our instinctive British stoicism ensuring our acceptance of the end, should it happen. The morning was far too nice for doomsday anyway, and I was halfway through a book; a clear signifier that the end was not nigh.
The amount of people who believed in this prophecy would have entirely squared its occurrence with me. I don’t want to seem too disgustingly sentimental about human life, but maybe the universe could have done without the excess of dolts our kind supplies – I would have happily succumb to the prophesied terrors if it meant everyone else went the same way. I mean, when there are stories of people selling their possessions because the world is going to end you have got to wonder whether humanity really deserves a spot in the cosmos.
Had the world actually ended it would have been such a spectacle; an event of such magnificence that it would have been worthwhile in itself. Being born is old news; people have been enduring that inconvenience for thousands of years. How many of them got to see it all end though? Admittedly we haven’t yet either, but say it had, you would have been one of a select 7 billion who got to see our species’ demise. Surely that’s enough to make you feel special!
There is no denying that ignoring evidence has been a human forte since time began; I could go on about various scientific matters and religion but I fear that would put a dampener on the jovialities of tomorrow. It will have to suffice then, that this pre-Christmas farce, conjured up by two hippies on mushrooms in the 70’s and supported by nothing other than the end of an ancient calendar – which coincidentally spoke nothing of death and destruction – further illuminates our medieval susceptibility to rumours and nonsense. There was an infinitely greater threat from gun-toting wing-nuts than from asteroids, rogue planets, aliens, Satan, black holes, exploding suns, volcanoes, mutant woodlice or any other irrational garbage that could be thought up.
A part of me is glad we’re still around to witness a more realistic apocalyptic threat – not one plastered together by some chemical ridden egotists. I guess there is also a chance, however small, that the Mayans were actually right and we just got the dates wrong. Here’s hoping!