Friday, 21 December 2012
The End - Yet Again
While the politicos have been getting on with their sordid business of covering up their foul misdemeanours and subjugating the lovely Kingdom of Northumbria under the benignly malevolent yoke of Sacred Arch-Cheese Emperor Joe Borracho - the self-appointed Grand Sham of the Holy Roman Empire (which is as holy as Caedmon's socks, Roman as a frankfurter and not remotely resembling an empire), the soothsayers have been getting excited about yet another Grand Distraction. It earns them a crust, I suppose..
According to the Mayas - a magic mushroom and peyote-fuelled ante-diluvian civilisation from the as yet undiscovered land of Ultima Thule - the world was due to come to an abrupt end today, on the Winter Solstice. This ancient people constructed large and interesting pyramid structures, doubtless inspired by a visit by their seers to the land of Egypt to see how it was done. They also devised what was latterly understood to be a circular calendar and almanac upon a large stone, from which all manner of interesting predictions have been extrapolated. (The circular structure was actually an elaborate dinnerplate for their fat high priest, but such a prosaic and banal explanation doesn't make for exciting stories and wild predictions, does it?)
In view of this devastating apocalyptic prediction, all kinds of unusual people - clothed in muddy off-white robes, holding harps and ram's horn trumpets - have been swarming for the last few days in hordes of herds to the sacred mountain of Pen-y-Ghent, expecting that particular place to be the focal point of the Great End. Many of them have sold their possessions and have made the one-way pilgrimage there in expectation of being translated to another realm. It's all so terribly sad.
Astonishingly enough, just as with the eschatological predictions of the venerable Harold the Campsite, the Great Wind-Up Of The Ages hasn't happened today; consequently the great unwashed multitudes are once more taking the tedious journeys back to their hamlets and hovels - doubtless to the grinning sarcasm of the sceptics who stayed on to get on with their work.
Meanwhile, Edweird the Milliner - the Grand Macaroni of the Redistribution Faction has been busy. Today he's called for a Public Enquiry into this significant disaster. This is the thirty thousandth request he's made for one since breakfast. I wonder why it's of such burning interest to him? - I bet he'd placed a wager with some dubious character somewhere, and he's lost..