Reflecting on the Mayan Prediction and the End of 2012
The Mayan prediction was incorrect. Well, either that or we interpreted it all wrong. It was most probably the latter. Y2K, 2012 Doomsday, Zombie Apocalypse, we as a society praise the end. We wait upon it more than we do the return of Christ. We as a whole know that we’re in the wrong–we have been so for about 4 decades now–and all of us want to see this goddamn smog-filled shithole go up in flames, and righteously so. There has not been a time in history with more information being fabricated, passed off as truth, and pounded down our hearing holes than now. The end hasn’t arrived and the world hasn’t been cleansed, but looking around I can see that in many ways this day does mark the end of a civilization.
Single handed massacre in the school yard; multi-purpose wars blaring on every edge of the map; governments’ success in putting a shoe in every pie-hole that doesn’t sing their anthem with one hand on their heart and the other on their semi-automatic assault rifle. The land of the free leading their captured souls into the darkest depths of blue and white hell. And you can’t disregard reality as a conspiracy theory any longer. We don’t need crazy, concocted theories, we have the strong, hard facts right here glaring us in the eyes. But just as the sun has the power to keep us from staring straight at it, so does the truth. You give the truth seekers a black President and turn the Middle Eastern Muslims into the new N****rs. And the African Americans are so happy that they no longer have to take crap, that they goddamn willingly go along with whatever the Whites say. Divide and conquer.
Politics isn’t even the topic I wanted to get into here. I wonder who would ever publish this? Any “respectable” newspaper would stop in their tracks after the first paragraph and discard it as rubbish. “Too controversial; too close to home; too intense for our readers.”
Don’t come at me with your flowers, come at me with guns blazing. If the guns lock up, come at me with your pharmaceuticals. Infect my friend with Colitis from acne medication, use him as a test subject for a year straight, pumping him with Remicade and Corticosteroids. One’s to battle the ulcers while the other to battle the previous drug, and the third to restore him from a close-to vegetative state so his parents don’t die from heart attacks. Then surgically remove his colon as a last resort, having finished using him as a lab-rat. Thanks, Doc.
The slogan “Give me Liberty or Give me Death” has transformed to “Let me keep whatever I have left and I’ll stay quiet.” And if someone steps out of line, we’ll lobotomize them, crucify them, and let ’em hang for the others to see and take example. I wonder what Dr. Hunter S. Thompson would have to say on this whole degraded reality we so-called ‘live’ in, or merely exist in. He took his own life for a reason. The plane has crashed and the ship has sunk, and though survivors are still here, heaving for air, the life boats and life jackets have been dispensed among a handful–a tie wearing, balding, pale skinned handful.
If the Mayan prediction has given us anything, it is that we should see this day as the end of a one-dimensional plain of thought and a time to open our eyes and our minds to a world where freedom is not just a word and a person’s life-worth is not measured by the amount of coins jingling in his pocket.