Monday, March 12, 2007

I drove 42nd Street/ In my Cadillac.

Good car to drive, after a war.

Courtesy of the always-interesting growabrain, an old Wired piece on a subject near and dear to the coal-black heart of your friend Gleemonex: the end of the world! Specifically, 20 ways the world could end, from the sudden-global-death variety (e.g. giant asteroid) to the slower-but-sure (superbug that kills all the humans).

Young Gleemonex, having spent her formative years in the benighted time in America’s history known as the Reagan presidency, developed quite a taste for apocalyptic and post-apocalyptic scenarios, Armageddon, the big kablooey, Global Thermonuclear War, what have you. The goddamned Weekly Reader fed that shit to us every Tuesday (in addition to telling us about Samantha Smith, and urging us to narc out our parents for toking jays) — what else were we supposed to think? We got a faceful of
The Day After when we were nine, we got WarGames and the killer bug AIDS and Ol’ Grandpappy Reagan telling us we might get vaporized by the Rooskies any minute now, maybe even tonight while we were watching That’s Incredible!, but don’t you kiddos worry — we’ll empty the holes on our side too, so NOBODY makes it out alive.

This has led to a lifetime of being way into stuff like
Ebola, On the Beach, the Chicxulub Crater, The Stand, Alas, Babylon, Battlestar Galactica, Ray Bradbury, Terminator — even stupid shit like Deep Impact. If it’s fiery and/or involves the destruction of the entire human race (except perhaps for a hardy, ragtag band of survivors, natch), I’m all for it.

Yeah, so, like — happy Monday, y’all!



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