Feeling a little sexy about the approaching Apocalypse
End Of World Blues: No one read the book and now, apparently, it's happening. Just don't say I didn't try to warn you.
We're all going to die, possibly very soon. Regrettable, for sure, but not all that surprising. And we do all get to die together. The first time we all did something together and the thing we did was die. I don't know about you, but I like it. So much more appealing than dying alone, randomly, leaving others behind to torment themselves with the unfathomable, unanswerable questions of why him, why now, why, God, why?
On the other hand, all the apocalypse-is-upon-us talk could be nothing more than the usual grim spin of desperate fundamentalists who believe that being literal is a valid alternative to being literate. They read badly and believe everything they read. So let's say there's a chance we're not all about to die. We could be stuck here, alive, for God knows how long? Talk about your unpalatable scenarios. Still, it's not a bad idea to be prepared. If the human race is doomed to survive, there are a few things we can try to do to make life a little more tolerable.
First, everyone needs to be a lot smarter. Okay, probably too late for this. Reading more fiction might have helped, but what's the point belaboring the fact that the majority of humanity doesn't read. Many, of course, due to the deplorable state of education, can't read, so it's pointless to blame them, certainly in writing, anyway. Then there are those who can read, but choose only to read the Bible. Sales of Bibles in the US have apparently risen dramatically since several Mega/corporate, prime-time Christian evangelists have started proclaiming the end of the world. Self-fulfilling prophesy. If enough people are reading the Bible at one time, the world pretty much has to end. From sheer, incomprehensible boredom, if nothing else.
Let's just say that reading the Bible is tedious, at best. Basically, it can put you to sleep, forever. Which, we'll recall, is pretty much what happened to Adam. He fell asleep in the Garden and never woke up. His ongoing dream has turned into the nightmare of what we refer to as life on Earth in the 21st. Century.
I mean, Jesus returns for his advertised second coming and finds everyone asleep. First thing out of his mouth is going to be something like, Jesus Christ, what the hell is going on here?
Don't blame us, Jesus. Blame God.
Who?
Oh my God! Jesus doesn't know who God is. What does it mean?
Second, start having more sex. Now that reading is pretty much passe, sex is really the only alternative to mindless, violent zealotry. Increased sexual activity would also cut down on Bible reading. It would also cut down on visits to the Mall, which, as most smart people already know, leads to a deadening of the senses, a decrease in basic intelligence and an increase in the baser appetites. Sex also burns calories, thereby reducing obesity. Not that Jesus is necessarily going to discriminate against the overweight, but, facing facts, even at the end of the world the laws of physics still apply. The heavier the payload, the more difficult the lift-off. Of course, sex will not help you lose weight or become smarter unless the sex act lasts longer than the current worldwide statistical average for the duration of sex, which, based on extensive research by Mormon missionaries around the world, stands at 11 minutes 36 seconds. Clearly, we all need to slow down, try to stay focused on what we're doing and take sex a bit more seriously. Turning the TV off during sex might also help. I fully realize that sex is no substitute for prime time television, but we are talking about saving humanity here. And it's not as if I'm saying stop going to church in order to have more sex. In fact, you could spice things up by having sex in church. Priests do it all the time, albeit with underage boys. This does not invalidate the concept. Think of it, you're sitting in church listening to a sermon so monumentally irrelevant and dull that, under usual circumstances, would make you wish you were already dead. But suddenly you don't care because the woman sitting next to you, who may or may not be the Pastor's wife, is giving you a hand job. No one around you notices because they've all slipped into a catatonic state that will last until either they get to the Mall, or get home and switch on the TV.
Or it could be your wife. She's busy praying that you will have a heart attack sooner rather than later because you're an emotionally vapid moron who can't even get an erection anymore and all of a sudden you've got your hand up her dress. She, meanwhile, is halfway to asking God to cancel that last prayer, wondering if the hand in her pants is merely the involuntary byproduct of premature senility, or if, praise Jesus, sex is not entirely dead in the world?
It's the uncertainty that makes it so exciting.
Okay, I'm getting slightly carried away, but the point is, God wants us to take a few chances, explore some new options. He or She or Whoever is set to send down the fire and brimstone, possibly an horrendous plague, or, worst case scenario, more CNN news anchors and extreme weather specialists. Not because He's angry with mankind, but because He's so monumentally bored. Can He be blamed? He's sitting there (wherever there is?) thinking to himself, how can these people be so dumb and uninteresting? Why don't they read more? I've half a mind to prove the brain dead, anal-retentive fundamentalists right.
Jesus, prepare yourself. I'm sending you back to Earth.
No fucking way, God, if indeed that is your real name. Once was definitely enough.
Oh all right, I'll send someone else. Go see if Bukowski's busy.
Jesus, says Jesus (odd, granted, but not completely outside the realm of possibility), what is with you and Bukowski?
What? The man's a great poet, not to mention the biggest son of a bitch I ever met. Maybe he can wake the assholes up.
We're all going to die, possibly very soon. Regrettable, for sure, but not all that surprising. And we do all get to die together. The first time we all did something together and the thing we did was die. I don't know about you, but I like it. So much more appealing than dying alone, randomly, leaving others behind to torment themselves with the unfathomable, unanswerable questions of why him, why now, why, God, why?
On the other hand, all the apocalypse-is-upon-us talk could be nothing more than the usual grim spin of desperate fundamentalists who believe that being literal is a valid alternative to being literate. They read badly and believe everything they read. So let's say there's a chance we're not all about to die. We could be stuck here, alive, for God knows how long? Talk about your unpalatable scenarios. Still, it's not a bad idea to be prepared. If the human race is doomed to survive, there are a few things we can try to do to make life a little more tolerable.
First, everyone needs to be a lot smarter. Okay, probably too late for this. Reading more fiction might have helped, but what's the point belaboring the fact that the majority of humanity doesn't read. Many, of course, due to the deplorable state of education, can't read, so it's pointless to blame them, certainly in writing, anyway. Then there are those who can read, but choose only to read the Bible. Sales of Bibles in the US have apparently risen dramatically since several Mega/corporate, prime-time Christian evangelists have started proclaiming the end of the world. Self-fulfilling prophesy. If enough people are reading the Bible at one time, the world pretty much has to end. From sheer, incomprehensible boredom, if nothing else.
Let's just say that reading the Bible is tedious, at best. Basically, it can put you to sleep, forever. Which, we'll recall, is pretty much what happened to Adam. He fell asleep in the Garden and never woke up. His ongoing dream has turned into the nightmare of what we refer to as life on Earth in the 21st. Century.
I mean, Jesus returns for his advertised second coming and finds everyone asleep. First thing out of his mouth is going to be something like, Jesus Christ, what the hell is going on here?
Don't blame us, Jesus. Blame God.
Who?
Oh my God! Jesus doesn't know who God is. What does it mean?
Second, start having more sex. Now that reading is pretty much passe, sex is really the only alternative to mindless, violent zealotry. Increased sexual activity would also cut down on Bible reading. It would also cut down on visits to the Mall, which, as most smart people already know, leads to a deadening of the senses, a decrease in basic intelligence and an increase in the baser appetites. Sex also burns calories, thereby reducing obesity. Not that Jesus is necessarily going to discriminate against the overweight, but, facing facts, even at the end of the world the laws of physics still apply. The heavier the payload, the more difficult the lift-off. Of course, sex will not help you lose weight or become smarter unless the sex act lasts longer than the current worldwide statistical average for the duration of sex, which, based on extensive research by Mormon missionaries around the world, stands at 11 minutes 36 seconds. Clearly, we all need to slow down, try to stay focused on what we're doing and take sex a bit more seriously. Turning the TV off during sex might also help. I fully realize that sex is no substitute for prime time television, but we are talking about saving humanity here. And it's not as if I'm saying stop going to church in order to have more sex. In fact, you could spice things up by having sex in church. Priests do it all the time, albeit with underage boys. This does not invalidate the concept. Think of it, you're sitting in church listening to a sermon so monumentally irrelevant and dull that, under usual circumstances, would make you wish you were already dead. But suddenly you don't care because the woman sitting next to you, who may or may not be the Pastor's wife, is giving you a hand job. No one around you notices because they've all slipped into a catatonic state that will last until either they get to the Mall, or get home and switch on the TV.
Or it could be your wife. She's busy praying that you will have a heart attack sooner rather than later because you're an emotionally vapid moron who can't even get an erection anymore and all of a sudden you've got your hand up her dress. She, meanwhile, is halfway to asking God to cancel that last prayer, wondering if the hand in her pants is merely the involuntary byproduct of premature senility, or if, praise Jesus, sex is not entirely dead in the world?
It's the uncertainty that makes it so exciting.
Okay, I'm getting slightly carried away, but the point is, God wants us to take a few chances, explore some new options. He or She or Whoever is set to send down the fire and brimstone, possibly an horrendous plague, or, worst case scenario, more CNN news anchors and extreme weather specialists. Not because He's angry with mankind, but because He's so monumentally bored. Can He be blamed? He's sitting there (wherever there is?) thinking to himself, how can these people be so dumb and uninteresting? Why don't they read more? I've half a mind to prove the brain dead, anal-retentive fundamentalists right.
Jesus, prepare yourself. I'm sending you back to Earth.
No fucking way, God, if indeed that is your real name. Once was definitely enough.
Oh all right, I'll send someone else. Go see if Bukowski's busy.
Jesus, says Jesus (odd, granted, but not completely outside the realm of possibility), what is with you and Bukowski?
What? The man's a great poet, not to mention the biggest son of a bitch I ever met. Maybe he can wake the assholes up.
posted by Bruce Leigh at 11:47 PM
3 comments
