Nina In New York: It’s The End Of The World (Again) (Maybe)
A lighthearted look at news, events, culture and everyday life in New York.
By Nina Pajak
Finally! After much hemming, much hawing, and many, many false starts and alarms, it’s here: It’s the end of the world.
I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “Ho hum, been there, done that. How many fake apocalypi can one world entertain in the course of a year?” I know, I know. But think about it.
Zombies are, like, totally made up. And that other end of days was just the ramblings of one, mathematically-challenged cult leader. This isn’t fiction come to life, nor is it even in any way religiously affiliated. This is the Mayans. The Mayans! They invented the calendar, and a whole bunch of other very useful modern concepts like a formal writing system, math, building techniques, and chocolate. So what I’m getting at is that they’re legit.
They developed the system for passage of time as we understand it. You don’t think they didn’t know when it would end? Ha. I highly doubt that.
This is not some lone wacko promising salvation for those who believe in him and the second coming of Jesus or the messiah or reptilian shapeshifters. This is an agnostic apocalypse. All-inclusive. Probably, you’ll be better off if you’re Mayan. Which is to say that we’re all screwed.
Of course, when I went to Mexico last year and visited Chichen Itza, the Mayan city, our tour guide was very clear in his assurances that the Mayans absolutely did not intend to predict the end of the world, it’s just that their math got a little fuzzy at some point and they couldn’t figure out how to account for something something carry the one, add a zero, blah blah blah numbers.
I’m not buying it.
I found this site 2012hoax.org which debunks all the science surrounding the 12/21/12 doomsday theories, which would be convincing were it not for one hole. They claim that everyone promoting said theories are out to scam
suckers believers out of money. And I am not after anyone’s money. I barely know how to monetize what I already do for a living. Nor am I prepared to give anyone any of the money I do manage to keep in my pocket in order to learn the secrets of surviving the apocalypse. First of all, I’m quite certain that the point of an apocalypse is that hardly anyone survives. Second of all, while I’m not particularly keen on dying, I’m not sure I like the idea of being the last woman on Earth. Then you get into all sorts of uncomfortable repopulation scenarios in which you’re forced to truly assess the statement, “I wouldn’t have sex with you if you were the last man on Earth,” and even though I’m pregnant and already have a head start with a chosen partner, that seems like a pretty unpleasant hazard, too.
I’d wind up like that actress in that movie I didn’t see where she’s the only pregnant woman on Earth and everyone wants to steal the baby or kill her or whatever. I don’t know, I only watched the commercials. Plus then my child would be born into a post-apocalyptic world, and those are never very pretty or fun. It’s always dirty and bleak and lonely and everyone winds up really mean and venal and callous. And don’t even get me started on the post-apocalypse zombie virus. It always happens. No, I think if it comes, I will just accept my fate gracefully and spend my final hours pooping myself and weeping in the company of my most beloved friends and family.
Then again, if you’re reading this, we’re likely all still here. And if you’re not, I’m not sure why I bothered spending a precious REDACTED minutes writing this on my last day on the planet. But assuming we do survive the day, I think perhaps we should cool it with the doomsday talk in 2013. We tried, we failed.
Let’s move on to another thing next year. Like, I don’t know. How about alien invasions? That’s fun and scary and probably won’t happen but maybe could. I’ll start brainstorming.