What Ever Happened To […] #1020

[Hey! We’re all still alive today! So, welcome to BJF–and I mean, REALLY Bad Joke Friday. Damn Mayo (Mayonnaise?) peeps had us BS’d for over a thousand years. Or, something like that. Of course, I’m 800 and don’t remember. I never did pay any mind to “Mayans,” although methinks someone just re-minded that “Maya” is the people, while “Mayan” is the language. Very good! But they’re both still full of sh*t. Today I wish to point you to this…

…which is a composition composed by a talented friend I know, who’s actually put some time in on allah dys end-of-the-world baloney. Click on that link (or copy into your browser) and enjoy!]

The King William I “The Conqueror” Administraction Presents…

WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO [The End of The World] ?

Even HE (King Bill the First) got it wrong. And no, “The Doomsday Book” had nothing to do with it.

That’s actually a misspelling of “Domesday.” Once William the Conqueror conquered England (in 1066 A.D.) and EVERYTHING we know and love today changed forever, he commissioned (no, not a ghostwriter like me) a frickin’ tax collector to make a record–called “The Domesday Book”–of his entire kingdom for tax purposes.

Right.

So, what ever happened to HIS “doomsday” which was supposed to have happened waaaaay back, probably on January 1, 1000? The, uh, original Y1K day.

Add another millennium, and we suddenly had Y2K–and none of us were supposed to survive THAT either.

Then, the Mayo or Maya or Hoo-ever peoples got involved in calendar-fixing, and betting parlors have gone off the odds charts ever since. So, what ever happened to Mayo? (Besides growing rancid in our fridge.)

Obviously, the world did *not* end at Y1K. Nor did it on Y2K. And not even–according to some whacktoast minister in Fooledyou, Caliphrenia–on May 21, 2011. This same whacktoast, by the way, had also previously predicted the planet’s demise on: September 6, 1994; then September 29, then October 2, of that same year; and also on March 31, 1995.

And, ya know, for a really REALLY interesting and remarkably full list of ALL the predicted Ends of the World throughout history, dig this…
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_dates_predicted_for_apocalyptic_events
…and be amazed.

But, doggone it, “they” just don’t give good Ends of the World anymore. There used to be sackcloth and ashes, medieval wailing and gnashings of teeth, “raptures,” whacked-out dweebs in white robes on mountaintops (besides at the Leadville Trail 100 😉 standing transfixed with their arms up, just waiting for Cheeses and the Risen Crust.

Even shortly after The Crust died, Pisa’s most fervent followers expected a second coming. Then, a thousand years later, biblical scholars (if not short-order cooks) predicted that 1033 would be The End. In the 1960’s, The Doors put out a song about it. But none of this, of course, had anything to do with good Italian food, nor even with The Guy who died in 33 A.D. somewhere in Israel.

What ever happened to good Apocalypse? And, no, we’re not talkin’ about that old Francis Ford Coppola flick, the one about Vietnam with Marlon Brando hiding out in the sticks. Literally, the bamboo sticks. Living like Yoda in some kind of swamp. That was years ahead of the Jedi and decades behind what DIDN’T happen today, December 21st, 2012.

Didn’t we imagine waking up today (or, perhaps, NOT waking up) and seeing stuff like what that silly “2012” Hollywood movie tried to show us a year ago? Earthquakes, tidal waves, cities going up in flames (something like what Sherman did to Atlanta under Lincoln, which is now yet another Hollywood movie, eh?) and on and on and on. Were we or weren’t we prepared today for some real tragic type stuff to REALLY mess up our run this morning? Probably we were prepared for… mourning?

No matter. Didn’t happen. Pope Sylvester II and his minions failed in their attempts to scare the bejesus out of my ancestors on January 1, 1000, (never mind that the new year used to start on March 25th) and, once found to be wrong, his minions tried again on December 31st. And then, lo and behold, “1001: A Spacial Oddity” came and went even without Hollywood noticing.

Next up, my own generation thought the Antichrist would glom on the scene in 1184, and then again in 1186–because of some other weirdo, John of Toledo’s calculations about weird planet alignments, which was probably due to Chuck of Cleveland’s bad math. During those years, my entire beloved mid-evil era was to reek of rapture and be sucked into judgment.

No can do. No could did! Once again, Did NOT Happen.

Whatever happened to Chuck of Cleveland anyway? Probably croaked mid-rapture in bed with his mistress on February 30th. As I said, he wasn’t very good at calculating stuff.

So what if they gave all these predictions of The End of The World and nobody ever came? Never mind mid-rapture, how about NON-rapture? Nuthin’! Nix, nil, nihil, nunquam, da nada, zippo, zilch. The problem is inherent in the dufuses doing the math. Ain’t a god among ’em. Things like The End of The World are more likely determined, and calculated, by such beings as started the World in the first place. And none of my relatives, or me–as old as we are–were around when that happened.

I’ll tell ya what happened. And here’s why today’s End of The World DIDN’T: There needed to be a permit, and it wasn’t applied for in time. Every runner on the planet, for example, just automatically knows you can’t have a race end without proper certification, insurance, and permitting. And this includes The Human Race. There is no “rapture” or “judgment” or “testing for blood doping” of every single Human in the Race unless ALL this paperwork has been taken care of in advance, specifically by The Race Director who is… who?

Ya see? If we can’t decide who our Human Race Director even is, how in heaving’s name is he ever supposed to get all our Race’s paperwork in to the USATF, the IAAF, the IOC, the IAU, the AUA, or even the BAA in time to certify the one true correctly calculated and exactly measured finish of our Human Race?

My Gawk! It’ll be argued for epochs.

( O_O )

Yours troubly,

The Troubadour
“your mid-evil lute-plucking finish-line-hoping-for slow-as-molasses sometime runner who’s been spectating species in races for 800 years”

Yankee Folly of the Day:
Ho ho ho. It’s Christmas. And the only thing the Scribes and Pharisees are very, very sure of is that Cheeses did not just suddenly appear on Christmas Day.