New year’s resolutions and the apocalypsePosted: January 2, 2023 Filed under: Brief...therefore witty. | Tags: Culture, Humour, Mayan, Zeus Leave a comment
I’m not the sort to bask in the failure of a long-deceased civilisation, but I’m not half pleased that the Mayans were off the mark with the missed prediction of 2012.
A famous miss, quite the ‘swish’ to echo through the eons.
Perhaps, it’s an error in translation? Rather than ‘apocalypse’ – they meant ‘low chance of showers’? In which case, they were bang on – as I distinctly remember that there was a low chance of showers that particular year.
It’s also a fantastic way to stay relevant – doom braying.
And that’s what I’m bringing to 2023 – predictions for the end.
So here it is.
You’re all going to die.
So you’d better put the cat out and leave a note for the milkman or the paper boy – or any other 1990’s chores you choose to turn to in your time of time-cessation.
Of course, most of you will have realised this years ago, which is nice, but you forgot to keep yourself relevant by reminding people.
It’s not just for selfish reasons that I do this though, as a healthy dose of daily death can be invigorating. Very.
Knowing you’re going to leave life inevitably, and potentially suddenly (especially you), should influence your actions. It might not, but it should – because you’re going to die.
And it’s best not to be religious about this, even if you use that to guide your morality. Not just because I’m agnostic, but it’s hard to play the odds well in picking one God out of the thousands there have ever been – you’re likely to choose the wrong one and then comes heavenly vengeance – just like what presumably happened to the Mayans.
Zeus is the only God I’ve seen mighty evidence for, thanks to all that lovely lightening, but I don’t want to believe in him because if I could impress and terrorize the world with tempests and lightening, maybe I’d want to fuck a fish too since, at a certain point, humans won’t cut it any more when you can seasonally fuck the sky. I don’t know how that could guide my morality, but I know I don’t want to fuck a fish this year.
A new year’s resolution is dandy, good for you and yours, but you were supposed to die via apocalypse (or potentially a dangerously low chance of showers) over a decade ago.
You were mortal last year, and it’s the same again this time.
Remembering this, and that it might happen at any moment, is a fantastic way to start the year.
To die preferably is all we can aim for, really.
That being said, Merry Christmas! May Zeus be with you (but not standing too close).