2012 is meant to be the end of the World isn’t it? Didn’t some bloke say it? I’m not sure who. It’s usually a bloke with a beard. Or people from ancient times, because of course they were experts at such things…..
My mad old neighbour down the road (the one that collects newspapers, has hairs on her chin and permenanty smells of chicken) seems convinced that this is fact. 2012 is the year we WILL die. This neighbour in question is about 102 – so I’m guessing her own personal odds are pretty good.
My Dad’s not concerned. “We’ll all die one bloody day anyway” he said matter-of-factly, sucking on his pipe. “What sodding difference does it make?”
Would it be nice if we knew? It’s not like you plan for the end of the world, is it? You can’t really have a party. But knowing this sodding country, we’ll all run down to ASDA and stock up on bread. That’s what we usually do in moments of panic (like when there’s an inch of snow).
What I don’t understand though, is why people feel the need to wear sandwich boards and parade up and down the streets, sharing their message of doom. If they are right, why the fuck would we want to know about it? After all, there’s nothing we can do to stop a natural phenomenon such as the explosion of the sun, or an incoming meteorite – so why send people into mass panic? Haven’t we got enough to cope with in the country at the moment? Aside from the fact that none of us (normal people) have any money, the music in the charts is piss poor, reality TV is taking over and a bunch of tossers are in No 10.
If 2012 is the end, stop bleating on about it. Let us all die in blissful ignorance, watching our last episode of Eastenders and scratching our sad, pathetic bottoms.
I’m sure the dinousaurs did something similar….