If you are reading this then some stoner ancient Mayan nerds, after quaffing one too many kegs of a brew of toxic psychotropic green honey called Balché, were dead wrong when they declared the world was going to be serious toast on 12/21/12.
This miscalculation by a culture that carved highly accurate astrological equipment out of rock instead of something light they could wear as bling reflects a fatal flaw in their intellect including a propensity to be mystified when party time rolled around and there was a sudden dearth of sacrificial virgins available within a five hundred mile-radius of their temples.
Admittedly, thousands of years ago they were able to calculate the length of the lunar year as 329.53020 days, missing it only by 34 seconds but they never learned to lay off the bee sauce so here we are.
For those of you who delayed paying your bills and ran up huge Visa charges betting on being atomized on twenty-first, there’s still hope something might be out there that will clean your slate and your clock at the same time.
Sun Storms are cranking up and may bring more than rockin’ auroras. A few scientists (no relation to the snookered Mayans) believe that we are in for some hits of radiation energy that will knock out power grids, trash satellites and microwave our food sources while popping the human race like a cosmic batch of kettle corn. These solar storms are cyclic and some nasty ones are due toward the end of the year just about the time our congress (obviously not sober) may throw us off the fiscal cliff. At least the astral cookoff will be quick and those clowns will share the same popping cauldron.
There is a bright side though. 2012 has been a bit of a clunker for a few ultimate doom scenarios.
The mega 27-kilometer tunnel they built in Europe to house the world’s biggest particle accelerator was fired off without creating the miniature black holes that some worried would have sucked the earth down to size of a crushed hockey puck. The only thing smashed was the NHL season resulting in a few bruised egos and unemployed players signing up for cage fights in hopes of bringing normality back into their lives while snatching a few bucks for a beer run.
Things are also looking weak for a few religious sects that still believe that Armageddon is set up for the final battle between good and evil prior to New Year’s Eve which will result in the ultimate fireworks display.
Interesting enough, the Chinese Book of Changes as well as a few Hindu teachings agree that something may be in the wind that’s bigger than a biker riot in Sturgis.
Don’t get too cocky. If we make it past 2012, there is always the charming super volcano in Yellowstone National Park. It is way overdue for a major dust up that will block the sun with atmospheric ash resulting in the Earth experiencing a 15,000 year-long winter. This will immediately spur the EPA into issuing emergency regulations limiting volcanic eruption emissions and perhaps reconsider its stance on global warming causing Al Gore to pout.
Let’s not forget a pack of physicists at Berkeley who have nothing else to do but play with numbers and look thoughtful. The product of their specific ponders continues to predict that we are on the fast track for a catastrophic event.
Could it be a change in the magnetic field that shields us from the sun’s radiation if solar storms don’t put us on broil first?
If you were not aware of the fact that the magnetic poles like to switch places every 750,000 years or so, you are now. We’ve past that milestone by 30,000 years. When the switch occurs we will lose our UV shield for an elongated period of time and “deep fried” will become a skin condition.
And so it goes. There always seems to be some natural disaster scenario out there that’s hypothetically going to put all of us on puree any day now.
As for me I don’t worry about it much especially when the holidays roll around.
Nothing in the universe is going to stop Santa from coming to town. Plus, all of the downer prophesies give me an excuse for a huge glop of extra ice cream on a piece of my bride’s pecan pie along with a fine adult beverage after dinner.
Come to think of it, I might just make that a double shot of Balché then if things blow I won’t care and if they don’t I might catch a glimpse of what the Mayans foresaw; kind of like reality TV, only a lot less mind-numbing.
Nick can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org if he isn’t standing on a hill somewhere mumbling something to someone no one else can see.