Not With A Bang, But A Whimper

The end of the world as we know it (TEOTWAWKI) is well and truly upon us.

Hollywood films, have for years, entertained us with visual delights of exploding Suns, alien invasions, mega earthquakes, impossible ice ages, giant rocks from space and even shark filled weather, but our everyday lives are about to be disrupted in a more subtle way.

As humans beings, one of our greatest weaknesses is the fact that we follow patterns.

We love 'em.

We are designed to find patterns everywhere. We see patterns in the most irregular of places.

How often have you looked at a cloud and seen an image of a horse playing a trumpet or seen the faces of a deity in a piece of burnt toast?

All the damn time.

But not only this, we follow patterns. We all have a morning routine for example.

You put your clothes on in a certain way, you will travel the same way to work every day and you will eat the same things all the time.

But how does this effect the end of the world?

I am a tea drinker but there are many people out there who enjoy a cup of coffee.

It has been reported that coffee crops are set to be 35% lower than previous years, which have been in decline for a long time.

Your morning cup of Joe may become more expensive at best. At worst there may be an actual world wide shortage of coffee for sale.

This might seem bad enough but then there is the added fear that, due to the recent floods in Cumbria, us Brits may not even have a biscuit to dunk in our brews.

This is how the world will end.

Not with a bang, but a whimper.

Not having that subconscious little treat will be the start of a very slippery slope to barbarianism.

With your morning patterns ruined, work life balance will be torn apart. This will result in lower effort put in at your place of employment. There will be no more chit chats by the office kettle as everyone discusses just how much weight Karen in accounts has put on or if Derek is wearing eye liner and what's with that work experience lad in the post room? I'm sure he's stealing pens.

With the working environment in tatters it won't take long before the boss notices and puts you on a disciplinary for not getting that report done on time (your boss would rather ruin your day than deal with Derek, who is now wearing sequinned mini skirts and singing show tunes throughout the day, AND your boss hasn't had their daily cuppa either so it's all gone to pot!)

But not to worry, when you get home, after one of the worst weeks of your adult life, at least you can sit down and relax with a nice cup of..... um.... hot water?

That won't cut it.

Who will take the blame for that?

Your significant other - that's who.

They won't stand for it for long and before Christmas you will find yourself on your own, jobless, sat in the dark because you have no money to pay the electric bill and you have this weird pain in your stomach because you have been forced to buy "cufee" from the black market and it will probably contain bits of mud and dead rat hairs and then you will feel poorly.

But it won't just be you will it?

It will be everybody. 

Your neighbours, work colleagues, friends and loved ones will be going through the same emotional wrangler as their lives as torn apart from within.

It's the accumulation of the small things that will rip civilisation asunder.

We will all fall victim to the decomposition of friendship and help.

Man will fight against itself for the briefest glimmer of hope that they will be able to dunk a biscuit into their cuppa.

But that hope will soon fade as you stare into your hands, the drying stains of blood from your latest kill soaking into the skin. Staining not only your fingers but your soul.

There is no escape.

The end is coming.

Hoard your biscuits.

Cherish your Custard Creams.

Even the jammy dodger.







Damn you all.

Damn you all to hell.