OK, I’m very nearly over this whole apocalypse guff. Just as well it’s nearly over, right?
But let us muse for a moment on why the hell we find it all so fascinating. Human beings love to predict the End Times. It’s our thing. We like to riff on doomsday, chatter about eschatology, get our Armageddon on. We wait for the second coming when technically there wasn’t even a first coming.
It’s a fundamental part of religion, the idea that at some point this will all come to a crushing end, those of us who picked the right God and wore the right shoes will be elevated to a higher plane while those with dud tickets suffer for eternity.
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Ron Hubbard is building plush bomb-proof survival shelters to save people from tomorrow’s Mayan Apocalypse, when a planet name Nibiru will smash into Earth and wipe out humanity.
I KNOW! WTF? HIS NAME IS RON HUBBARD!
The rest of the guff about the end of the world is pretty much accepted now. People have stocked up on Spam, they’ve planned their doomsday attire, they’re going to party like there’s no tomorrow.
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