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| From the other day |
Anything that swivel-eyed, radar-eared, Bible thumping, Pilkington taste tester in the US can do, I can do better. My own research, or rather accidental discovery, into the date on which the world will come to an end suggests that it will take place on New Years Eve, 2030. The year, that is, not half past eight. In fact it'll all happen just as we're doing that thing with the hand holding in a circle and singing something only Scottish people can do properly.
How do I know? My evidence for this? Well, I admit I'm not absolutely sure it's much more reliable than interpretations of various ancient texts that were written by different people living centuries apart, but which these days are usually found in a single volume translated from ancient Hebrew and Aramaic into archaic styles of English via Greek and/or Latin. By all means play at interpreting that if you wish, but at least what I'm interpreting is a hell of a lot more up to date:
only the actual bloody internet!
Blogger, which has recently been spookily prescient with the word verifications it's been making me do when commenting on other's blogs, seems to have foreknowledge of the end of everything as well. While saving a draft blog post for a few weeks ahead in order to keep it at the top of the list I accidentally set the year to 2031 and a little message popped up to tell me that dates could not be past the year 9999. Thing is, it wasn't, was it? But Blogger wouldn't permit it anyway. Some further experimentation revealed the limits of the dates Blogger will accept, and it seems to believe that despite being nearly 8,000 years short of its limit it's not worth it's while accepting anything scheduled for midnight on January 1st 2031 onwards.
See? See? It must know something we don't. The bad news is that I have no evidence at all for any kind of salvation. No being beamed up, no motherships, not even a bloke from Betelgeuse who can get you a ride on a Vogon constructor ship. So my advice for dealing with what appears to be the last New Year's Eve ever is have some good sex - put some Viagra aside now if need be - and then get as pissed or stoned as you both possible can. If the world does end it's best you have some fun before getting too wasted to be concerned, and if the next day does dawn after all you won't give a rip about anything more than getting some headache pills.
I like to think of this blog as offering a service sometimes. You can thank me in 2031, or not as the case may be, and in the meantime credit card donations to the usual place so I can afford all the advertising.