Party-ocalypse!

I should throw a huge party on the night before Dec. 21, 2012.  Invite a bunch of conspiracy theorists, end-of-the-world nuts and every major psychic in the country.  There's going to be a huge kegger and we're going to an end-of-the-world movie marathon: "2012," "Armageddon," "The Day After Tomorrow," etc., etc.  The next morning I am going to nudge them all and ask, "So, how was that apocalypse?" while winking slyly.  "You know, the one that never happened!"

The Germans have a word for the kind of kicks that I would get from that.  It's called "Schadenfreude" or "shameful joy," taking delight in the misfortune of others.  I think of it less as a feeling of shame but rather of gratitude in the fact that the logic portion of my brain hasn't shriveled into the grey matter equivalent of the appendix. 

I can't even keep track of how many times I've heard about the approaching apocalypse.  I say "the" like there's only one version floating around.  I honestly don't know what to expect.  It's like a restaurant menu, except instead of being stuck on whether to order steak or shrimp I have to decide whether I'd rather be skewered by demons or take part in a real-life multi-million dollar disaster movie blockbuster.  

Should I buff up on church and watch a lot of Kirk Cameron flicks or maybe read the entire "Left Behind" series while I'm at it?  Of course, I don't know how I'm going to tell who the Anti-Christ is.  People have been pointing fingers for 2,000 years but it doesn't seem like the world has ended yet …  unless hell is slumming around with a bunch of people freaking out about an impending apocalypse.  If that's the case, I've been here all along.        

Maybe I should be sacrificing the hearts of virgins because apparently Mayan deities are crazy about that sort of thing.  Hearts are like Big Macs for them.  When the police book me I can say, "You'll be sorry!  Boy Scout motto, man …  Be prepared!"  It seems like the 2012 "prophecy" is the current Armageddon du jour; maybe I should roll with it. 

There have been so many close calls with disaster that amounted to absolutely nothing. I almost wish Y2K would have blown us all up so at least so at least everyone wasn't running around like chickens with their heads cut off for nothing.  Of course, it's precisely the fact that it's for nothing that makes it so amusing, if not maddening. 

For a species that is so dead-set on living no matter what the cost, we sure have a morbid fascination with how everyone is going to die.  What shames me is that just hearing about it plants the smallest seed of "what-if" in my head, even though I know nothing will happen.  I guess people like Nostradamus (more like Nostra-DUMB-is) got kicks and giggles out of it.