What Would I Do ...?
Aug. 31st, 2006 12:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fiat_knox... if the world was about to end?
The question "List the ten things you would do if the world was about to end" came to my attention. I thought I'd answer it in my unique and inimitable style.
I would concentrate on the goals I'd want to achieve, rather than on the goals I wish I could achieve.
There's no point in my going out and looking for lurve, because there'd be no point - with the world winding down for the Grand Epilogue, there'd be nothing out there but mindless fighting, feasting and fornicating. People'd be either getting drunk or going out armed and settling old scores, gunfire and screaming everywhere, buildings on fire, police and emergency services just sitting around, head in their hands weeping at the futility of it all and Goths walking around with huge smiles on their faces.
I'd look at the sandwich board man, with his sign reading "THE END IS NIGH" and tell him to go and take the day off, head off down the pub and get roaringly drunk. The beer'd be free, anyway - the poor landlord'd probably either have just let all the taps run and handed out the drinks for free, or he'd be lying outside the wrecked, looted pub, face down in the gutter, with all the perpetrators of the crime lolling about beside him in a stupor.
No point in going to the supermarkets, unless you're going there to loot, like everyone else; if you go early, you'd be there just in time to see the crowd chuck a fridge through the large plate glass windows, followed by the mob surging into the store, people cutting themselves fatally on the large shards of glass, and the rest of the crowd just pressing on regardless, slipping on the blood.
Of course there'd be churches full of people, praying away, as if that would ever help. I might look for one of the quiet ones, praying genuinely for the salvation of everyone else, rather than the tooth gnashing chestbeating hordes begging for forgiveness from the Lord for the huge sins they thought they could get away with, but clearly didn't.
I'd like to sit with one of the quiet ones, the altruistic ones who do their Christian duty right up till the end, and just lay a gentle hand on her forehead and tell her not to pray for me - pray for someone else who really needs it - and I might offer a quick prayer for the little saint, because nobody else is.
But I doubt I'd ever find such a little saint, either, because they'd be rarer than love or virgins in this town.
At the end of it all, I think I'd return home to my folks, and sit down with them, and tell them that, in the end, it was worth it. It was fun being part of my family, and life was a hell of a ride.
And then that'd be it. If I had time, I'd like to go out with a smile. One that doesn't look sarcastic. A real smile. The smile that'd belong to the person who, if he had time, would be able to go home at night and look at himself in the mirror and enjoy a good night's sleep.
The sleep of the just. Forever.
The question "List the ten things you would do if the world was about to end" came to my attention. I thought I'd answer it in my unique and inimitable style.
I would concentrate on the goals I'd want to achieve, rather than on the goals I wish I could achieve.
There's no point in my going out and looking for lurve, because there'd be no point - with the world winding down for the Grand Epilogue, there'd be nothing out there but mindless fighting, feasting and fornicating. People'd be either getting drunk or going out armed and settling old scores, gunfire and screaming everywhere, buildings on fire, police and emergency services just sitting around, head in their hands weeping at the futility of it all and Goths walking around with huge smiles on their faces.
I'd look at the sandwich board man, with his sign reading "THE END IS NIGH" and tell him to go and take the day off, head off down the pub and get roaringly drunk. The beer'd be free, anyway - the poor landlord'd probably either have just let all the taps run and handed out the drinks for free, or he'd be lying outside the wrecked, looted pub, face down in the gutter, with all the perpetrators of the crime lolling about beside him in a stupor.
No point in going to the supermarkets, unless you're going there to loot, like everyone else; if you go early, you'd be there just in time to see the crowd chuck a fridge through the large plate glass windows, followed by the mob surging into the store, people cutting themselves fatally on the large shards of glass, and the rest of the crowd just pressing on regardless, slipping on the blood.
Of course there'd be churches full of people, praying away, as if that would ever help. I might look for one of the quiet ones, praying genuinely for the salvation of everyone else, rather than the tooth gnashing chestbeating hordes begging for forgiveness from the Lord for the huge sins they thought they could get away with, but clearly didn't.
I'd like to sit with one of the quiet ones, the altruistic ones who do their Christian duty right up till the end, and just lay a gentle hand on her forehead and tell her not to pray for me - pray for someone else who really needs it - and I might offer a quick prayer for the little saint, because nobody else is.
But I doubt I'd ever find such a little saint, either, because they'd be rarer than love or virgins in this town.
At the end of it all, I think I'd return home to my folks, and sit down with them, and tell them that, in the end, it was worth it. It was fun being part of my family, and life was a hell of a ride.
And then that'd be it. If I had time, I'd like to go out with a smile. One that doesn't look sarcastic. A real smile. The smile that'd belong to the person who, if he had time, would be able to go home at night and look at himself in the mirror and enjoy a good night's sleep.
The sleep of the just. Forever.
