This is May 20th. It's about 9:30 PM, and if you believe it, two and a half hours from now the last good day ends - well, it ends for the believers. The rest of us sinners - yes, I'm afraid I happily sin with free abandon. Anyway, the rest of us sinners have to ride a roller coaster planet until August. I can't remember what happens to us. Whatever happens, we're fucked.
The good guys - the believers, will be in heaven. I'm not sure what heaven is exactly. But, my childhood indoctrination gave me a picture of an old, very clean village with streets made of gold - gold bricks, probably. It sounded extremely well managed - sort of like an army base. I can remember wondering who ran this well organized place? Was it all Republicans? But, foolish me, I then realized it had to be God. Not just any God, but one bad ass God. Mess up and you're out of here - back to that rock and roll planet with all those sinners. HELL!! Scary shit, and it has been since John the Baptist predicted the end of the world. Of course, he thought it would happen in his life time, and maybe it did for him. He died.
In my life time alone I can recall a rapture days. It seems there was one in the 70's, one in the 80's - they must go in ten year patterns. But, you have to give the believers credit for dogged determination, because, if they don't get this one we have a bumper crop of Armageddons this decade. Next year the Mayan calender brings its five hundred year charting to an end, and, of course, the end of the world once again.
Have you ever seen the Mayan calender? It's a circular stone disc with so many symbols you couldn't get another chisel mark on it. We don't even make five hundred year calenders. I mean, who cares what's happening five hundred years in the future. We won't be here. The calender had to end somewhere.
The amazing thing about the believers faith in the Mayan doomsday prediction is that it's based on the beliefs of a culture that killed people to appease their God. I'm pretty sure that places them in the heathen category, even though they were probably God-fearing people. I know I would fear a God to whom some dude would slice my heart out and let me watch as he held it to the sky and my blood flowed out of me down stone gulley's to feed a ravenous God. We don't do that. We're civilized.
We also have God-fearing people. I don't trust a God that I have to fear. He sounds too human - not all knowing and wise - not one who would look on his creation as just that - his creation, his expression. It is what it is. An all knowing God would accept that.
I keep thinking about those streets made of gold. That sounds so materialistic. It symbolizes wealth. Wealth is a concept of man on an earthly level, and I prefer the disorganized organization of a forest to a military clean village, if I have to choose an earthly setting to spend my death in, that is. If I have a choice, though, and I'm pretty sure that I do, I think I would like to be where ever living soul is, since that is what I am, and part of. You may not call that a God. I know that I don't. It makes no demands and accepts me as I am. If offers no mysteries and makes no threats. It doesn't get pissed off at you. I have different names for it - depending what I'm writing; Great Spirit or the Ancient Ones, when I'm writing with an Indian flavor, Soul, Living energy, Black energy, from a scientific perspective, as that energy flows throughout the universe and they don't have a clue what it is. They can't see it but they know that it's there, sort of like living energy, which is the most profound element on our planet, yet, unlike everything else, no elements of the planet can create it. It doesn't exist, but you're proof that it does.
Boy, did I wander off track. That's what happens when you write stream-of-conscious.
So, if any of you believers are wrapping it up for the big day, and you own a BMW Z-4, or a Honda S2000, I'd be glad to take it off your hands for you. You won't need it where you're going, and if I'm destined to hell, I want to get there in a nice sports car.
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