Michel de Nostredame or Nostradamus, also predicted troubled times early in the 21st century - that is if you can decipher his convoluted quatrains. For centuries, these now famous rhyming predictions have been meticulously translated by experts (with too much time on their hands and not enough brain cells in their heads) to be an accurate forecast of future events.
I imagine in a few hundred years from now, charlatans may try the same scam with the children’s book, “Green Eggs and Ham.” Our naïve future descendents riveted to their seats in terror as they read an ancient apocalyptic warning by the great 20th century psychic, Dr. Seuss…
“I will not eat them with a mouse.
I will not eat them in a house.
I will not eat them here or there.
I will not eat them anywhere.
I do not eat green eggs and ham.
I do not like them, Sam-I-am.”
Of course, the experts of the future will agree. Dr. Seuss is referring to a future invasion of the evil and sadistic rhyming “Who” people that release a radioactive plague on an unsuspecting human race that turns everything green.
Maybe this world will end one day, likely to be replaced with the next world a few hundred million years later. If there is a god, maybe he knows when that end will be. If I knew when the end was coming, you’d find me at the local ice cream shop, the day before, ordering triple scoops …on waffle cones … with extra sprinkles. In fact, I would likely die from eating too much ice cream, and miss the big end of the world show on the next day.
Should the psychics be right about the year 2012 and there is a god who would do such a thing, that god is in position for the best practical joke of all time. Instead of ending it all at the stroke of midnight, he should wait a few extra minutes, just long enough for us to open our eyes and remove our fingers from our ears.
Then, while we’re all rejoicing and dancing in the streets thinking it’s not the end after all… KABOOM!!! End of the World. What a laugh. That God. What a card!
But just in case, all smugness aside. If on December 23, 2012 at 11:59 pm you should happen to see an inordinate number of fat ladies out on the streets singing their lungs out. It might be advisable to put your head between your knees and kiss your backside good-bye. Because as they say, it ain’t over till the fat lady sings - and I’d put my money on the fat lady over any Mayan Calendar, Nostradamus, Sleepy Prophet Guy or god.
The End
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