Saturday, December 22, 2012

Seeking a Blog For the End of the World Post-Mortem

Ah, the title is almost as long as the blog: seeking a blog for the end of the world post-mortem. I woke up yesterday morning at 3:30 for the end of the world, which was scheduled to occur at 4:11 Mountain Time. I mean, I was awake, and I was at work when it happened -- or didn't, depending on your point of view. The world ended at 4:11 am -- or didn't. I was not sure which clock to watch -- there were four at my workplace, all with different times -- so while I debated and went about my work, it suddenly was 4:13. I took my first sip of coffee and the world began anew. But if the night crew had not set up the coffee pot for me, I would have suspected that I and all humanity with me had slipped into hell. I had spent the prior evening feeling a bit envious, thinking of time differences and realizing my family in Holland would be enjoying a lovely luncheon when the end time came, while most Americans would be sleeping through it. Was I disappointed that the world didn't end? That I had to go ahead and clean the toilets at Joe Blogz again? Did someone get the time wrong? Multi-year calendars are tricky to figure out, after all. So I set my mind to the task of predicting the true end of the world, and my guess is just as good as anyone else's besides Douglas Adams, and he unfortunately is done with such nonsense, passing the mantle to much less adequate prognosticators such as myself. But here goes: in the year 2442, on the 42nd day of the year, which will be February 11, at 42 minutes after midnight Greenwich Mean Time, a golf ball the size of Mars, errantly sliced to the left of the fairway, will collide with the Earth and end all reality TV shows forever. And on that day, I shall mourn.

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