This week has been a busy one at Stately Spoilers Manor, what with ending one seasonal celebration, preparing for another and Young Zach rushing about asking where we keep the caltrops and high-caliber ammunition for when the zombies come. Though I don’t necessarily hold with the widespread rumors of the universe’s impending demise (and I still have no idea how Maya’s calendar got back from Terra Venture) I find it fascinating how strongly this thought process has taken hold. After all, imagining what COULD be on the horizon is always infinitely worse than facing the real future. Even as a mostly-rational, partially-educated grown-up with a 401k, there’s just that tiny ghost of a “What If?” trundling around the back of my lizard-brain, and I’ll admit to idly considering the question of what to do if any of these expectations of red skies and burning seas turn out to be true. (Find Ving Rhames and head for the mall tops the list, bee-tee-dubs…)
The MS-QOTD (pronounced “AIEEE!!!!”) knows that ancient calendars and hokey superstitions are no match for a good blaster at your side, asking: What do you think are the odds of an actual cataclysm at the end of that there Mayan Calendar thingy?