It's the end of the world as we know it

A small post about all things apocalyptic.

Nibiru. An artist's interpretation, not a photo. Sadly some people - usually the ones who think the moon landing was faked - probably think this is an actual photo.

On Wednesday the 12th of December (2 days away as I write this), we have been told that according to the Mayan calendar, or due to the death-comet Nibiru, or the culmination of Terence McKenna's Timescape Zero, the world will end. Some say it is a fiery space-rock death, others point to McKenna's death of novelty. Others helpfully point out that while the Mayans say that the age of 'Macha' will end, 'Pacha' will conveniently take over.

Why do we want the world to end? Why do Christian millenialists and eschatonics of all stripes almost rub their hands with glee at the thought of a rapture? Why do some zealots think that nuclear fire eliminating nation X or Y will usher in Armageddon, and that boy howdy is that an awesome thing?

I'm boringly practical when it comes to the end of the world. If there was an extinction space rock called Nibiru we would have seen it by now. I pretty much think that time doesn't stop when you throw out the last page of a calendar. As much fun as I think a zombie apocalypse would be (what's that? The Liberal Party are all zombies? Where's my boomstick!?) I also know that it is unlikely to occur outside an HBO series or Romero movie.

Why do we need the excuse of the end of the world to do things? Woot! The end of the world! Now I can get drunk and have heaps of orgies! some loudly shout. Some point to an Armageddon as a vindication of their belief - 'While Satan is sticking a pitchfork up YOUR arse, I'm gonna be in heaven being an ungracious winner and pointing and laughing at your torment.

I like to think that these apocalypse scenarios are something we use to be honest. If the world is over, then our little daily lies and pretenses are kind of irrelevant. People want to take drugs and get drunk and have orgies if the world is going to end, likely because it's what they'd do if they didn't have to go to work tomorrow, or in fact ever again.

To the faithful, the end of the world is an anxious, heart-wrenching time. 'Oh my poor sibling/friend/parent/boss/neighbour! I get to go to heaven because I'm nice and Jeebus loves me, while they are an evil sin-riddled fuck who'll roast in hell!'' Why not just say you hate that person, and you think you're the bees knees? Rampant egotism and a complete lack of compassion may not earn you friends but at least you can stop lying to yourself everyday.

Every age has seen a doomsday scenario, we wring our hands as a species constantly bemoaning a destruction of the world we know. Even the current bugbear of climate change elicits the same reaction.  Just for the record, I accept the reality of climate change. I don't think the world will go all Alderaan to the Death Star of climate change, but I don't think it's going to be a bundle of laughs either.

Every historical doom scenario has fizzled out to nothing, despite our best efforts. We could have had a lethal nuclear war, but didn't. Y2K could have reduced us to savagery but didn't, so why do we keep coming up with new ones? Why this global lustmord? Why this Emily Dickinsonian being 'half in love with easeful death?' (and if it wasn't auntie Em, then fuck it, I'm trying to make a point here and I dropped Lit at uni).

Maybe we want change, but we're afraid of giving up our comfortable patterns. Maybe we yearn to let the worst elements of our personalities run rampant, but want a justification to do so.

We embrace the fictional yet ignore the real in our search for catastrophe. A meteor named Nibiru makes more sense than having a hostile climate. Angels blowing trumpets is easier to justify than a globally terminal nuclear war. If we wanted to end the world we could have, a dozen times over. All we needed to do was listen to the cranks. Ban all immunisation and vaccination, so we sicken and get decimated. We could have believed Ronald Reagan, that all Soviet Russians were Satanists and we could have nuked the crap out of them, understanding that the nuclear bitchslap goes both ways. Maybe we'll have an opportunity to sit back and let Iran and Israel nuke each other, knowing we could have stopped it, but we had to be nice to one side and nasty to the other because we kinda sorta had to, because that's what all our friends were doing.

Essentially, I think that as a species we're all pretty fucking stupid. Why make up an apocalypse, when we've been writing a lot of good material for our daily lives? So basically fuck Nibiru, the Mayan calendar can suck my balls and McKenna, may he rest in peace, was just a dude with strange ideas and altogether too much lsd/peyote/etc.

I put it to you, o human race. If you want the ride to stop and get off, then by all means do so. But you don't get to make that choice for all of us. There's a lot to hate in this world, a lot that frustrates us and makes things worse just because there are some people who are just too lazy or fucking stupid to try and make things better. But we don't need to fabricate an apocalypse, we do well enough on our own by being the barely evolved dumb-ass simians we are. And you know what? If the end comes, it won't be on some neat scheduled timeframe. The Christians like to say that 'ye shall know neither the day nor the hour' while frantically trying to find the day and hour like the well-meaning but ultimately gullible tykes they are. They are right of course. If this pretty blue/green/white marble spins off into the corner pocket of galactic clusterfuck, we won't be able to blame it on space rocks, machine elves or inscrutable ancient civilisations that may have shtumped aliens. It'll just be us, being stupid, at some weird random time, on some weird random channel.

So, this Weds the 12th, by all means do what you want to do - mutter prayers on your knees or invite the hot neighbours over for a good deep dicking. It makes no difference really, other than what kind of hangover you want when you turn up vaguely frustrated and sheepish for work on Thursday.