Excuse me people, I’m really out of touch. I think it was the Mayans who predicted the end of the world in the year 2012. Maybe it was the Incas. It could’ve been the Amish – I just don’t know and I don’t care to Google it right now. I’m sitting in my kitchen while my house and town are lashed by the early stages of “Frankenstorm”, a.k.a. “Hurricane Sandy”, a.k.a. “Rainy-Days-and-Mondays-Always-Get-Me-Down”. Maybe thumbing my nose at the end of days isn’t such a good idea under such conditions – but dammit all to hell, I’ve got to write! (plus, there’s not much on TV).
Pop culture gurus and doomsday types have latched onto this whole 2012-end-of-the-world thingy. It’s interesting that they waited until like 2009 to do so. I guess that’s because up until then, everyone had predicted 2000 – or “why-too-kay” – to be the finale. One thing is for certain, if the world’s going to end, it’s going to be due to some catchy-named package. Anyway, now that we’re closing in on 2013, they’ve all quieted down a tad.
It’s funny, but my impression of those ancient civilizations didn’t include their understanding or acknowledging our current calendar, so I don’t quite get how they picked 2012. I’m really hoping the true translation wasn’t “2012-ish…you know, give or take a couple of cycles from Ix Chel, the moon goddess.”
At any rate, it’s typical of modern society and Hollywood to embrace the end of the world part of the prophecy, but ignore the rest of the ancient culture. They conveniently left out the sacrificing of virgins to Xyl-Chtep the Sun God and the regular interpretation of chicken innards to predict the coming drought and baby genders.
No, no, ancient cultures, it’s NOT okay to kill people to appease Xyl-Chtep, and it’s certainly not politically correct to single out the virgins. The Sun God will have to go without an offering this week. If you’ve got a problem with old Xyl-Chtep, I’d suggest a little something with an SPF over 30.
As for reading chicken guts, we prefer Kindles and Us Weekly for gossip about people called “Kardashians”. Also, while we accept your thought that the world will end in 2012, we reject using corn husks to wipe our heinies after we drop a deuce out behind the pyramid. This isn’t Survivor – we prefer our Charmin 2-ply and a nice porcelain throne. A little privacy would be nice, and the latest National Enquirer if you have it, I need to catch up on what Britney’s doing these days.
So anyway, I wrote those paragraphs unaware that within a few hours I would be plunged into darkness for a week or so. No sooner had the lights come back on then I flew out of the country for another week. Now I’m finally back, with electricity and half an idea as to what time zone I’m in. It’s been a short strange trip.
I’m only posting this to prove to my loyal readers – both of them – that I’m not dead or a Power Ball winner – though I’m bound to be at least one of those two things eventually, and you don’t need an ancient culture to predict that!