The End of the World, and why it can’t come soon enough

Humanity, as a unit (haha unit), is in a weird place. Due to the cumulative efforts of our ancestors over the last few millenia (or several hundred years if you’re one of those creationist trolls) (You know, the “And on the 7th day, God drank Busch heavy” people), we have effectively escaped natural selection.

When an animal is smaller or weaker or dumber than his competitors, he dies, and the most deserving get the resources. Humans on the other hand are just too damn good at keeping ourselves alive. So much so, in fact, that it’s actually going to kill us. What can I say, we’re exceptional.

Allow me to explain. It can happen at any time really. Say you’re home sick from work, and you catch approximately 6.2 minutes of Jerry Springer. OR you hang around liquor stores at 11am on a Tuesday. OR you go to Walmart, literally anytime, but preferably around the first of the month (welfare check week baby). OR you visit the New Jersey. No matter when it happens, eventually you are going to be exposed to some manky ass troglodytic people that are just too dumb to live, and yet somehow, inexplicably do, and while they do it, they’re taking up valuable space, air, and resources, which we’re going to need later.

Meanwhile you ran a 4.5 second 40 yard dash in high school track, graduated sumapumafuma cum laude with cheese from a prestigious four year university, can play Beethoven’s 8th, 10th, and 12th on the oboe, plus you have a nearly God-like amount of random knowledge thanks to Jeopardy and Wikipedia, and yet you’re living back at home with your parents, dancing part time at the stripclub down the street, which unfortunately is your dad’s favorite, because all the entry level jobs in your field have been outsourced to radjish and his cousins in the Bengaluru field office. Let’s face it, the economy is bad. For the first time in history, there is a vast, energetic, highly educated young work force ready for action, and they can’t get the few jobs that are available because nobody is qualified. Here is an example.

Seeking: highly motivated person to run the brand new, never before seen, just invented this month, supercoolfunmachine3000, which remember, was just invented and is brand new. Must have 16 years experience running the supercoolfunmachine3000. Please bring resume and 3 un-opened sleeves of fig newtons, and apply in person on the moon by 3pm yesterday.

Well….shit. It’s enough to make a man, woman, or child scream and rip out their lustrous chest hair. Shrinks and Pharmacists are doing record business these days, treating people with depression, anxiety, blood-rage, and night terrors because, let’s face it, no matter how capable and qualified you are, your life is no longer fully in your hands. It must bend to the will of the fickle gods of Wall Street, who shall decide whether you get to keep your house  or job this month.

Add to that the certitude that one day, the world, or at least civilization, will end. Perhaps by devastating earthquake or asteroid strike, perhaps from the perpetual menace of the zombie undead, or maybe even by aggressive alien insect invasion. Either way, you’re stuck wasting the majority of your life at your meaningless job, which by the way is probably a telemarketing position for Edible Arrangements, while the cold greedy hand of death creeps ever closer.

My only hope is that Armageddon comes quickly. There’s nothing like an apocalypse of global proportions to redress the balance of the universe and reinstate Darwin’s sacred laws. Who is going to survive the Insectoid alien invasion? A piratical Wall Street banker? The last brother-uncle-cousin-dad to fail a paternity test on Springer? Pedofile Stan, the cubicle amoeba spilling out of his chair three rows behind you and one aisle to the left? Or the recent college graduate capable of living on Ramen and the dead skin cells they lick off of used solo cups, who has grown lean, tough, and bloodthirsty fighting for position in a stagnant job market.

Oh yeah. I, for one, welcome our new insect overlords.

About Max T Kramer

Max has been better than you at writing since the third grade. He currently lives in Connecticut, but will someday return to the desert.
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