We’ve never been so disappointed. December 21st, 2012 came and went like any other day. The world did not end. No earthquakes. No floods. No fire and brimstone from the heavens. The dead did not rise to feast on the living. Nor did ancient Gods lay waste, Godzilla-style, to our cities. We didn’t even catch a cold. It’s enough to shake the very foundation of our faith in numerology.
We assume that Johnny Rotten, the lead singer of the punk band the Sex Pistols, went through a similarly difficult awakening in his youth. He lived by the simple motto: “No future.” It was all so easy and straightforward. He lived his life fully in the present. Long-term plans were irrelevant. Personal responsibility was a waste of time. No future. No future. No future.
Then suddenly, “Bang, Future!” This once great rocker found himself living in a LA suburb and driving his kids to school in a minivan. Nothing in heaven or on earth could’ve prepared him for a transition like that. He’s lucky the shock didn’t kill him.
Like Mr. Rotten, all we can do now is play the cards dealt to us. We drank all the good stuff while preparing for the non-pacalypse. Now is the time for rotgut and self-refection. We’ll be back next week after we regroup and replenish the cellar.
Then suddenly, “Bang, Future!” This once great rocker found himself living in a LA suburb and driving his kids to school in a minivan. Nothing in heaven or on earth could’ve prepared him for a transition like that. He’s lucky the shock didn’t kill him.
Like Mr. Rotten, all we can do now is play the cards dealt to us. We drank all the good stuff while preparing for the non-pacalypse. Now is the time for rotgut and self-refection. We’ll be back next week after we regroup and replenish the cellar.
