So, this is the end of the world. Not as bad as I had expected. The bagel store was out of pumpernickel this morning but I stiffened my upper lip and carried on – the coffee wasn’t that great either.
From what I’ve been hearing all this year I think most people have a misconception about what the end of the world really means. They seem to think that the Earth will be hit by an asteroid or there’ll be some apocalyptic event and we’ll all be fighting over the last gallon of gas or can of Cling peaches on the Path-Mark shelf, but they got it all wrong. If that happened and if there are any survivors, it won’t be the end of the world – it will just be the continuation of the same world. There’ll just be fewer of us.
We’ve been greedily fighting over the world’s resources and killing each other ever since we came onto the scene. Man’s inhumanity to man has been going on since … humanity.
And that’s another thing. Our world was here about 4 billion years before we were, and I suspect it will still be here 4 billion years after we’re gone. Whether we’re taken out by some great natural disaster or, more likely, by our own hand, scraping and clawing at each others throats for some yet unswallowed bits of Cling peaches, the world will keep on spinning, blithely indifferent to our existence as it always has.
I would prefer the former. I want us all to go out together. Not a beating heart or selfish soul to wander the planet wistfully searching for someone else to talk to, that special, human companionship missed so dearly, someone to break bread with, share their stories, their feelings … And then slit their throat in the middle of the night for that Three Musketeers Bar they were hiding in their back pocket.