Leonard Bernstein!
This is late. My oldest had the day off from school today and Mrs. Pops took the day off, so we've been busy. But I'm here now, so everyone remain calm.

I've got some news that may strike some of you as something of a downer: The Apocalypse Is Upon Us.

Again!

Can you believe it?

No seriously, this time I have proof. Two items of proof, actually. Two proofs. Prooves? Proofses? I don't know. There are two of them.

First, it is raining in southern California. And it's only mid-October! When the mystery substance began to fall from the sky--wet, clear, odorless, tasteless--my first reaction was that it was probably ricin, VX nerve agent or possibly angels' tears. All were more likely candidates than rain. The "rainy season" in southern CA is about four days long, usually in early February. It will rain long enough to turn normally dry creek beds into Raging Torrents of Darwinism In Action. A few very very stupid people will invariably try to cross the roiling whitewater in their cars, become stuck and then die just before the rescue team can reach them. It sounds sad, but it thins the herd, which is more necessary out here than in most places.

But just in case I wasn't confused or agitated enough about the strange turn of meteorology, my local TV news came up with some really neat graphics and bombastic intro music to lead into their reporting of STORM WATCH 2004. It's an annual ritual out here that when the first drop hits the ground, TV satellite trucks mobilize, sending junior reporters out to hilltops and potential mudslide zones, soaked and chattering as they "report" something along the lines of "Yes, it is in fact raining. Back to you in the studio", trying to look as grown up as possible as the rain washes away what's left of their dignity.

It's two weeks until the most important election of my--and probably your--lifetime and the lead-in story is Killer Water Dropping From Sky.

So that's the first clue to the oncoming Apocalypse.

The second is more cosmic and harder to quantify. By that I mean weird.

Just today (or it may have been yesterday, I forget) I've closed my first Blogosphere Incidental Acquaintance Loop and it's freaking me out. My close personal friend Killy made an offhand comment about a weird name she came across while assisting in her school's search for a new history professor. I recognized the unusual (and for'n) name and asked (providing some details) if it was the same person, and goddamn if it wasn't. And Killy's all the way on the Wrong Coast completely across this beautiful country of ours.

Here's the connection: I went to grad school at UC Irvine for a grand total of one year. There was a guy there named Mike who started the same year as me. First rate dude. Anyway, Mike was married to a German girl named Wiebke (whom I've never actually met) who also studied history and started at UCI the year after I left. And now that same woman is applying for the job Killy is helping out with at the school she goes to. Isn't that completely insane?

Well, no, not when you consider how cruelly, criminally tight the job market is for history PhDs at universities nationwide. I wouldn't be surprised if any and all my classmates from UCI weren't on her Applied list.

But flimsy or not, I say it's just kooky enough to convince me the End of the World is at hand. Stock up on all the canned food and bottled water you want, they won't do you any good. What part of End of the World is unclear to you people?

Now if the Red Sox come back and beat the Yankees, that'll be all the proof we need. The Universe folding in on itself won't be far behind if that happens.

Smoke 'em if you got 'em.


This post on the Narcissus Scale: 8.3


Pops

- posted by Pops @ 10:16 PM