A Conversation on the Eve of Apocalypse

As I noted in Will to Die, Part 1, People are becoming zombies in the face of their death, their own upcoming suffering, not to mention the death of all life on this planet. And, Do an internet search on Apocalypse and note how little, if anything, is posted about the urgency or emergency of our current situation.
It comes across as a big party on a South Pacific Island in a hotel that everyone there knows will not survive the incoming tsunami or killer hurricane.

I want to add that other takes on the apocalypse have machismo aspects to them. Indeed, most sites about apocalypse have that common message.
No shit, you’re not going to believe it, but check it out: The theme – now look deeply, if you’re not used to picking up on people’s motives off hand – goes something like this:
“Well, folks, we’re all gonna die. But big deal. I’m so fucking macho, I laugh at death! Here, let me prove it to you. Come here, death, right up to my face! See, everybody how I look directly into this face, this face of death! Now watch, watch as I spit, spit directly into this face. Ptoo. (spits). See that, so who cares!? Not convinced? Then watch and I’ll show you. See the face of death that I’m holding and facing. Watch as I laugh in its face, laugh directly in its face. HA! Hahahahahaha! See, told you.”
 
So, dear listeners, were you able to see the motivations beneath such efforts. Granted, that they are worthless as to either reversing apocalypse or even showing some sort of inspired vision in which it can be made acceptable or noble if not avoidable. For those who don’t see it yet, in this audio clip, I try a little fantasy dialogue to bring out what I think is going on, much of the time, and keeping us from acting rationally about this imminent emergency of all dire emergencies possible. Witness me as I trip over in cyber land to something I call Amalgamated Macho-Apocalypto dot com. I’m about to go over to him in imagination and, well, just run a question or two past him. Tune in and catch what ensues. It should be revealing. So you click on the gadget, while I fly myself over there. See you there!

Ok, I’m here. Hey, yo dude, deathface spitter and laugher!

“You… You know me…”?

“Heck yea. You’re in Google, you know. I understand you’re surprised because believe me, tagged with apocalypse, like you, well, let’s just say I don’t have to lock the doors either. But there’s probably more interest in you than what I do.”

“Really, more interest in me? I like that! What do you do then?”

“On my site I tell the truth: you know, tell them that it’s very very bad and looks impossible unless people wake up on a massive scale and decide unequivocally to live. Stuff like that.”

“Ha. Hahahahaaha.”

“Ok, but just no spittin. I’ve seen your routine.”

“No, no. Nothing of the sort. No, really, I thought that kind of stuff died in the Sixties with all the “kumbaya” and “we shall overcome” baloney.

“Well, not that it’ll make a difference on you, but yeah, I’m that old and have had many high moment of unity in among the angels of Humans coming forth to reunite – what you refer to as kumbaya – and by the way, I like the song, I like the Lord, what’s everybody pissed at? As for the other, we overcame. I’ve really dug being me because I’ve had the pleasure of being part of the things that made the world better; and I can’t imagine a better high or feeling of fulfillment.
But I’m not here to dispute with you. I’m an old fart who got to live in rich times and participate in them. You’re a young, well, younger than me person, who was apparently born at around the time all the things my kind were working for were deemed a threat to the status quo and so they created the misinformation, scapegoating, slander, and machismo cynicism with its connotation that it was better than feeling life, and those who experienced life, as opposed to those who accepted their prepackaged attitudes of cynicism and mean-spiritedness, were wusses, saps, effeminate, feminate, and all that.
So, sorry, that our threat to the moneyed powers was so scary to them that they reacted with the all out effort to create a generation that would be the opposite of us, and so you were brainwashed and misinformed and lied to. So very sorry. I wish I could say, “my bad,” but well it was “our good” that resulted in “their bad,” and I don’t want to be like them and continue to uphold their matrix of misinformation. So, anyway, sorry.

“Well, I shoulda Tivo’d that for later. That was waaaay too much and too many twist and turns for me to follow. But you called yourself an Old fart, that part I got, so since you’ve placed yourself below me, I guess I’m at ease with your being here, whatever it is.”

“Well, your Dudeness, your Fearlessness Most Strong and Mighty, I have a few humble questions to ask of you.”

“Ok, old fart, go ahead.”



Subpages (1): The Will to Die, Pt. 1: Zombies and the Sad Proselytists