So, it's almost the end of the world, huh? Being the skeptic I am, I can't actually remember what date that's supposed to be because--well, because it's bull, and I don't tend to put a lot of effort into committing bull to memory. But December, right? Maybe the 21st, right around the solstice? Or maybe some other date? The 12th? Hell, I don't remember.
What I do remember? Is being in high school when one of these dippy "end o' the world" things hit. Pat Robertson blathering about having a heart-to-heart with his deity, who let him know about a war in the Middle East that would begin by the close of 1982, eventually leading to world-wide economic collapse and political upheaval giving rise to "God's Kingdom." When his dippy prediction failed to materialize, he changed it to 2007. Again, no joy. That people still send that charlatan money astounds me.
Anyway, so there it was, the end of 1982. New Years Eve. Last day for the Amazing Mr. Robertson to be right. Being teenagers, we were thrilling to the idea of an apocalypse. You know, the same way kids bungee jump and drag race--it's exciting to be scared. Bio-chemically rewarding. One of my closest friends (at the time--that ship sank a long, long time ago) and I decided to smoke weed (NOT advocating such things--twas a long time ago and smart wasn't my thing back then) and stay up all night playing five card draw--what better way to go out than playing cards and laughing entirely too much? Playing poker with Lou (so nicknamed because of a Lynyrd Skynyrd song) was always an adventure in rule bending, misdirection, and plain ol' cheating. You could always tell a game with Lou--half the danged deck was "wild." One-eyed Jacks, suicide Kings, twos, nines--she'd call as many "wilds" as she could, and when she still didn't have anything in her hand, she'd pretend she'd also called tens, or fours, or Queens. Even with her creative methods, I won. Twelve straight hours of poker, and I won. The prize?
Her firstborn child.
No worries, we knew we were kidding. Or at least I knew we were kidding. Lou? Might just have tried to collect if she saw some money in it.
The practical upshot of this trip down memory lane? GROW UP! If the world "ends" any time soon, it'll be because of food shortages, overpopulation, and temperature increases, not some God whispering in some con artist's ear. Heck, even at 17 years old, I knew this sort of thing was a sham--why else play poker for a prize not yet born?
If you really believe that the world is coming to an end next month, please, I beg you--max your credit cards with cash advances and send the money to ME. Hey, it doesn't matter, right? We'll all be dead next month anyway, so why not? If you believe there's a giant, invisible, rogue planet catapulting our way, just take out a second mortgage, send that my way, too! And won't you have the last laugh when you're right and I have no use for all that cash?
Yeah.
If you laughed at the Hale-Bopp crowd in 1997, if you pointed and giggled at the Richard Noone doomsday prediction of 2000, if the 2008 debacle of God's Church/Ronald Weinland didn't sway you, then what on earth is wrong with you now? Some ancient civilization that believed in killing animals and letting blood to appease ghosts in the sky doesn't make a calendar that's FOREVER, and you think that means we're all going to die? These people used to sacrifice humans when the crops went south, and you want to lend this much weight to a calendar they made? You think a 1,300-year-old fear of some invisible planet is enough to base a life-plan on? Why stop there? Why not embrace all the dippy crap humans believed centuries ago? You know, like ill humors, comets and eclipses being signs of some deity's displeasure, women's bodies determining the sex of offspring, moles and physical ailments being indicative of witchcraft, little baby girls being born sinful, and holes being drilled into folks' heads to release evil spirits.
Seriously, why not?
Well, because that would be stupid.
Right?
So relax. The world's not going anywhere next month, we're all going to be paying off those Christmas bills, and that "Fiscal Cliff" is still going to be looming around the corner. And if that doesn't warm your heart and make you glow with optimism, I don't know what will.
What I do remember? Is being in high school when one of these dippy "end o' the world" things hit. Pat Robertson blathering about having a heart-to-heart with his deity, who let him know about a war in the Middle East that would begin by the close of 1982, eventually leading to world-wide economic collapse and political upheaval giving rise to "God's Kingdom." When his dippy prediction failed to materialize, he changed it to 2007. Again, no joy. That people still send that charlatan money astounds me.
Anyway, so there it was, the end of 1982. New Years Eve. Last day for the Amazing Mr. Robertson to be right. Being teenagers, we were thrilling to the idea of an apocalypse. You know, the same way kids bungee jump and drag race--it's exciting to be scared. Bio-chemically rewarding. One of my closest friends (at the time--that ship sank a long, long time ago) and I decided to smoke weed (NOT advocating such things--twas a long time ago and smart wasn't my thing back then) and stay up all night playing five card draw--what better way to go out than playing cards and laughing entirely too much? Playing poker with Lou (so nicknamed because of a Lynyrd Skynyrd song) was always an adventure in rule bending, misdirection, and plain ol' cheating. You could always tell a game with Lou--half the danged deck was "wild." One-eyed Jacks, suicide Kings, twos, nines--she'd call as many "wilds" as she could, and when she still didn't have anything in her hand, she'd pretend she'd also called tens, or fours, or Queens. Even with her creative methods, I won. Twelve straight hours of poker, and I won. The prize?
Her firstborn child.
No worries, we knew we were kidding. Or at least I knew we were kidding. Lou? Might just have tried to collect if she saw some money in it.
The practical upshot of this trip down memory lane? GROW UP! If the world "ends" any time soon, it'll be because of food shortages, overpopulation, and temperature increases, not some God whispering in some con artist's ear. Heck, even at 17 years old, I knew this sort of thing was a sham--why else play poker for a prize not yet born?
If you really believe that the world is coming to an end next month, please, I beg you--max your credit cards with cash advances and send the money to ME. Hey, it doesn't matter, right? We'll all be dead next month anyway, so why not? If you believe there's a giant, invisible, rogue planet catapulting our way, just take out a second mortgage, send that my way, too! And won't you have the last laugh when you're right and I have no use for all that cash?
Yeah.
If you laughed at the Hale-Bopp crowd in 1997, if you pointed and giggled at the Richard Noone doomsday prediction of 2000, if the 2008 debacle of God's Church/Ronald Weinland didn't sway you, then what on earth is wrong with you now? Some ancient civilization that believed in killing animals and letting blood to appease ghosts in the sky doesn't make a calendar that's FOREVER, and you think that means we're all going to die? These people used to sacrifice humans when the crops went south, and you want to lend this much weight to a calendar they made? You think a 1,300-year-old fear of some invisible planet is enough to base a life-plan on? Why stop there? Why not embrace all the dippy crap humans believed centuries ago? You know, like ill humors, comets and eclipses being signs of some deity's displeasure, women's bodies determining the sex of offspring, moles and physical ailments being indicative of witchcraft, little baby girls being born sinful, and holes being drilled into folks' heads to release evil spirits.
Seriously, why not?
Well, because that would be stupid.
Right?
So relax. The world's not going anywhere next month, we're all going to be paying off those Christmas bills, and that "Fiscal Cliff" is still going to be looming around the corner. And if that doesn't warm your heart and make you glow with optimism, I don't know what will.
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| Some Mayan-ish thing I discovered on the craziest anti-Jew/Lizard People/Chemtrail/conspiracy website I've ever seen. |
We're going to be in L.A. getting new. shocks put on the RV. Hope it isn't a wasted trip! :-)
ReplyDeleteBoy, aren't you gonna be mad if it . . . hang on. You won't know, the world will have ended. LOL, drive carefully!
ReplyDeleteIt seems regular people are taking the Mayan thing as a joke, thankfully. I remember Y2K being taken much more seriously.
ReplyDelete