End times, or just out of corn, rice, gas and running low on luck?

In the 'living in interesting times' category, I've always had one set of sights focused on December, 2012 as a goal to achieve. That's when the Mayan calendar ends. Unfortunately, for reasons not fully understood, the Maya didn't make it that far. Hopefully, however, many of us around today will.

I'm not sure if the Maya were all that keen on heavenly bodies' motions through the cosmos that so influenced their calendars and the future or if their wisdom was something they may have inherited from their mysterious predecessors. Certainly when it came to things not understood within the framework of European high knowledge the Maya had a lot more of it than originally credited them by their trans-Atlantic cousin invaders. But, as with most conquerors, whenever confronting knowledge of their vanquished they don't understand, it's always best to burn or obliterate it from the face of the Earth apparently.

Mayan calendar. December 21st, 2012 is its end. Was 12/21/2012 the point where they just
ran out of stone on the calendar or, as they were telling us, that's where it all ends? With less
than five years to find the "next page" and, it appearing there is none, some are gravely con-
cerned for our future. (For mankind's at least, hopefully, maybe.)

Well, trying to steer away from current events is difficult, especially when more and more of us are savoring the latest news less and less. Regular readers here know I am not a big fan of the species Homo sapiens. On an endless track to greater and greater mass insanity, I decided to take drastic action Friday -- I went out a bought a new patio furniture set. I would use it to watch events between now and December 21st, 2012 unfold, or until such time that is no longer possible. My own small contribution to the unfolding madness.

Let's face it. Things are never going to be the way they were. The U.S. is diving head first into decline and decay, taking much of the world down with it while global climate and electromagnetic patterns of recent history are becoming increasingly less stable. And with the flux amplifying, the "interesting times" we find ourselves in are exceedingly more so as a result. We're in for a great ride. Coincidence this is all happening as lead up to the point the Maya ran out of stone on their calendar? I don't know.

But now in possession of the biggest, cushiest patio furniture set ever, I'm better prepared to sit out and watch. Why, I've even set up the laptop out there to see where the latest violent storms struck overnight or to check the updated figures on global deaths by starvation or U.S. inflicted wars.

To christen the occasion yesterday eve, I chose an enchilada plate for my first meal outside. Of course, with corn no longer available, the enchiladas were little more than some melted cheese with specks of onion in a red chili sauce. And while the frijoles refridas were there, the rice wasn't. That's gone now too. And, truthfully, I'm more than a little concerned how much longer the excellent India Pale Ale I washed it down with will be available in that the hops and grains used to make it are going into gas tanks instead.

Despite these annoying changes, I noted strong reminders of the status quo still linger however. Like over 100 geese fluidly changing formation patterns from one long vee into three smaller vees and back again as they flew quickly overhead on their way north for the summer. I couldn't quite hear their squawking. That's because of another clue of "normalcy," i.e., the sound of traffic on the freeway only several blocks distant. Sometimes you can not only hear it, but with proper breezes, you can smell it! That is, until - like me on my new patio eating my cornless and riceless enchilada plate - folks up on the freeway run out of gas.

But not to worry. We still have over four and a half years to December 21, 2012. That is, if we're lucky enough to make it that far. In the meantime, I'll be soaking it all in with keen interest from the back patio until compelled to join in a food riot or something. Until then, it's apathetic American status quo out on the cushy patio for me. Two thousand twelve, here we come!

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