Post-Apocalytpic Musings

20121223-143604.jpgThursday night, December 20th, I arranged a camp chair to face the front door and sat. A six-pack of beer at my feet, and my Dad’s hunting rifle laying on my lap. I wasn’t sitting there because I actually believed the world was going to end. No, I was being cautious. It was the other nine-hundred and ninety-nine thousand people of Calgary I worried about forming looting parties and bandit clans prematurely. I believe people are that gullible.

It wouldn’t take much to set the population off into a doomsday mentality, and the streets becoming littered with shattered glass, Molotov and blood. All the power companies would need to do is turn the grid off for a minute. The radios could lie claim they saw the moon’s face in the east and a man in a mask willing it closer. Or they could play a radio drama similar to War of the Worlds. If the news station wanted to be in on it too, they could easily play the Phoenix Lights footage.

More dramatically, who the Government calls the enemy could play off the gullible minds of North American and launch their nuclear weapons, annihilating western civilization. Those who managed to survive would argue whether the nuclear holocaust was a planned attack or not, and if the Mayan’s actually predicted the end or if it was just a coincidence– after all we cannot perceive the world as anything but western civilization.

If the world were to truly to end, then I vote for it to be the result of genetically engineered, man eating plants and wide-spread blindness. But as long as it doesn’t end to a zombie outbreak then I’ll be ok with it because a zombie outbreak would satisfy way to many gullible peoples’ wishes.

The fat fuck upstairs blasted “It’s The End Of The World As We Know It”. How original. I shouted from my balcony that the world isn’t ending till the man comes around with a million angels singing amongst the pipers and trumpets. Better end of the world song, gullible people.

After taking the evening to think about it, if the surface of the world were to be stripped away until it’s nothing but a wasteland by nuclear weapons, or even curry flavored meteors, and we all emerge from our vaults, every person would believe them self to be the special one. Invincible, heroic, and possessing this uncanny ability to avoid all mortal inflictions. Truth is, the end would be just like every day life, in the sense that the probability of being maimed, crushed, shot, run over, electrocuted, choke on peanut butter, taking an arrow to the knee, poisoned and/or growing a tumor is still pretty high, if not higher because it’s the wasteland and now you’re worrying about bandits and looters too.

Let’s not forget about the other crazy theories of how the world will end. Global warming. Mass floods. The next ice age. Nanobots taking over. Birds. The singularity. Viral Pandemic. Solar flares. Black holes. CERN. Alien invasion. Nibiru. A Resonance Cascade. The second coming. Rapture. The programmers finally decide they’re bored and pull the plug.

Honestly, it’s too exhausting to list all possibilities, and such a list would wrap around the world a few times while still missing the point: we’re doomed no matter what. Nothing lasts forever. Us, living in the present, we’re all gonna die at some point. We’ll face an infinite, inescapable blackness where no thought exists, no sensations, no emotions, no perceptions. That’ll be the end we experience, so who gives a shit about the end because it’s inevitable. And the real end, if there is such a thing, we’ll probably never see it.

Friday morning, December 21st, I woke up to the sun in the correct position in the sky, and weather that was just too god damn cold. Which is all right i guess because I didn’t wake up to looters.

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