Pundits are proclaiming today's Florida Republican Primary to be the most significant yet. The Republican Party establishment have evidently come to their collective senses and realized that OMFG NEWT F***ING GINGRICH IS RUNNING FOR PRESIDENT?! Consequently, they've poured buckets of money into Mitt Romney.
(Not literally, I suppose.)
Of course, the real significance of this is: Rick Santorum's campaign will begin its inexorable and pitiable descent from madness to obscurity, obscurity to boutique, boutique to dropsical, and finally, dropsical to dead. (That's the usual course of these things.) Despite this, I can safely say that the world will not end today.
There is also no 31st verse of the first chapter of Revelations, and although Chapter Two, Verse One of Ezekiel provides some intriguing hints of what could come up later, obviously that couldn't apply to our situation today, since it's January 31 (i.e., 1:31), not February 1 (i.e., 2:1).
So enjoy your day. My enjoyment of my day will begin with an optometrist appointment. I would make a joke here about going to "see" my optometrist, and it would be hilarious, but I don't have the heart. Depression is a terrible thing, and, as a tip for everyone, optometrists are not qualified to treat depression.
(By the way, it's also impossible for the world to end on the day you go to see your optometrist. This does not apply if your eye doctor is actually an opthamologist.)
small minds, like small people, are cheaper to feed
and easier to fit into overhead compartments in airplanes
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Sunday, January 29, 2012
tenuous
This morning, I'm thinking about my depression and anxiety in relation to my perma-temped job.
I am in my 13th year of teaching at Cow State Santa Claus as a temporary faculty member. I do not have the opportunity for tenure, and have very reasonable assurance that I will never have that opportunity. While the support for humanities education collapses, and while 75% of college faculty nationwide are similarly positioned, my PhD gets staler and staler, and I become more and more un-hirable as a starting assistant professor.
Among tenuous-track faculty (my gag name for those of us in perma-temped positions), CSU "lecturers" enjoy probably the best working conditions, wages, and benefits of anyone. What that does not do anything to resolve is the humiliation we're constantly subject to, and, for me, the added humiliation and despair over my status.
For instance, it is very hard to believe I am really worthy of a tenure-track job, despite having a longer and stronger publication record than several of my tenured colleagues. Psychologically, this is due to my position at the university being one in which I am constantly given that message on a daily basis.
I always worry. I am always concerned that this academic year could be my last, and that, given the landscape of faculty work opportunities, the last of my career. I have a very strong feeling of being temporary, of not being at home, of not being able to have a home, and of having nothing between me and the catastrophic loss of my employment, career, and what I am often rueful to regard as my life's calling.
What struck me particularly about this this morning is how difficult it is for me to sit down and read a book. I'm best at it around 9-10 am, sitting quietly in my work room at home in a blue armchair from Ikea (grad student furniture). But there's always something else I feel I should be doing, something that I have to do in order to try to save, or resurrect, my career. I cannot just sit there and read, not when tomorrow the university could begin disciplinary proceedings against me over a trumped-up charge, and nothing can stop them, because I don't have tenure.
(That's not a paranoid thought, by the way. I've seen it happen several times to temporary faculty, and as a faculty rights rep, I've had no way to do anything about it.)
I am in my 13th year of teaching at Cow State Santa Claus as a temporary faculty member. I do not have the opportunity for tenure, and have very reasonable assurance that I will never have that opportunity. While the support for humanities education collapses, and while 75% of college faculty nationwide are similarly positioned, my PhD gets staler and staler, and I become more and more un-hirable as a starting assistant professor.
Among tenuous-track faculty (my gag name for those of us in perma-temped positions), CSU "lecturers" enjoy probably the best working conditions, wages, and benefits of anyone. What that does not do anything to resolve is the humiliation we're constantly subject to, and, for me, the added humiliation and despair over my status.
For instance, it is very hard to believe I am really worthy of a tenure-track job, despite having a longer and stronger publication record than several of my tenured colleagues. Psychologically, this is due to my position at the university being one in which I am constantly given that message on a daily basis.
I always worry. I am always concerned that this academic year could be my last, and that, given the landscape of faculty work opportunities, the last of my career. I have a very strong feeling of being temporary, of not being at home, of not being able to have a home, and of having nothing between me and the catastrophic loss of my employment, career, and what I am often rueful to regard as my life's calling.
What struck me particularly about this this morning is how difficult it is for me to sit down and read a book. I'm best at it around 9-10 am, sitting quietly in my work room at home in a blue armchair from Ikea (grad student furniture). But there's always something else I feel I should be doing, something that I have to do in order to try to save, or resurrect, my career. I cannot just sit there and read, not when tomorrow the university could begin disciplinary proceedings against me over a trumped-up charge, and nothing can stop them, because I don't have tenure.
(That's not a paranoid thought, by the way. I've seen it happen several times to temporary faculty, and as a faculty rights rep, I've had no way to do anything about it.)
Thursday, January 26, 2012
the end of the world - apparently not 25 January 2012
Okay, I'll admit it, my last post about the end times was motivated entirely by self-interest, namely, my self-interest in having the Spring semester somehow not happen. I didn't have any good backing for that assertion. Sorry. (Say it like a Canadian! "Sore-ry!")
(Ooooh, I smell a meme! "Say it like a Canadian!")
Now that I think about it, my selfish desire to have the world end in order to avoid having to go to school today was incredibly short-sighted. Follow me here: if the world had ended, and I didn't have to go to school today, it would also have been the case that I, too, would have ended, since my existence more or less depends on the world's existence. What was I thinking?!
Clearly, no one should want the world to end, unless that person was more or less assured of some avenue of escape from personal demise concomitant with the world's. Plus, if you think about it, wanting the world to end entails wanting lots of people to stop existing, as well, and there's something slightly rude about that. In fact, this whole "end of the world" business is a lot trickier, ethically speaking, than I thought. Some people are really attached to the world, and their friends and pets. Holy crap! I'm really attached to my friends and my pets! Sorry, guys! ("Sore-ry, guys!")
On the other hand, if the world were to actually, really, officially end - like really end, not just kind of turn crappier - not only would my friends and pets end, but so would I. So I wouldn't continue to exist, only in a world where my friends and pets would not exist. No. I would stop existing, too. That should make the notion more bearable, right? The end of the world wouldn't be just the end of my friends and pets ("Sore-ry!"), but my own end as well, and so I wouldn't have to deal with the pain and loss.
That's nice, eh? ("Eh?")
(Ooooh, I smell a meme! "Say it like a Canadian!")
Now that I think about it, my selfish desire to have the world end in order to avoid having to go to school today was incredibly short-sighted. Follow me here: if the world had ended, and I didn't have to go to school today, it would also have been the case that I, too, would have ended, since my existence more or less depends on the world's existence. What was I thinking?!
Clearly, no one should want the world to end, unless that person was more or less assured of some avenue of escape from personal demise concomitant with the world's. Plus, if you think about it, wanting the world to end entails wanting lots of people to stop existing, as well, and there's something slightly rude about that. In fact, this whole "end of the world" business is a lot trickier, ethically speaking, than I thought. Some people are really attached to the world, and their friends and pets. Holy crap! I'm really attached to my friends and my pets! Sorry, guys! ("Sore-ry, guys!")
On the other hand, if the world were to actually, really, officially end - like really end, not just kind of turn crappier - not only would my friends and pets end, but so would I. So I wouldn't continue to exist, only in a world where my friends and pets would not exist. No. I would stop existing, too. That should make the notion more bearable, right? The end of the world wouldn't be just the end of my friends and pets ("Sore-ry!"), but my own end as well, and so I wouldn't have to deal with the pain and loss.
That's nice, eh? ("Eh?")
Monday, January 23, 2012
the end of the world - 25 January, 2012
In the days following a predicted date of the end of the world, one is often asked to explain how it is that one mistakenly made such a prediction. This is understandable, and I for one certainly promote critical thinking by all of my followers, but these questions are, in truth, out of order.
First of all, the notion that once the date passes, a prediction is proved "wrong," is so simplistic that it's false.
Last week, I was able to discern that the world would end after the South Carolina Republican Primary, that is, following the "armageddon" of Rick Santorum's campaign, predicted by Newt Gingrich. As I explained, it is physically impossible for truth and Newt Gingrich to co-exist in this universe, and so, if he had spoken the truth about Santorum's demise, our own would follow.
Now that Gingrich has been declared the winner in South Carolina, and Santorum in Iowa, we know that Gingrich's claim was not true. Thus, we and our universe continue to exist. Somewhere, on a little watery planet light-years away, emerging extremely alien life crawling through primeval slime is unspeakably grateful, whereas we continue to bitch.
Anyway, my point is that my so-called prediction was not "wrong," since the events of Saturday followed precisely the course that I had explained. QED. [Original text: "QED, mutherfucker!" - Ed.]
Second, this whole business of calling for accountability for "wrong" predictions fundamentally mistakes what this is all about. Visionaries like myself (if I do say so) are not "predicting," like cheap side-show palm readers or tarot charlatans. We are engaged in an interpretation of the signs that the world and our holy texts present to us, an interpretation of world events in their ultimate significance, and in their ultimate days.
Third, I'm not very good at math. Specifically, algebra. And believe me, there's a lot of algebra involved in interpreting the signs and holy texts. Parsing Revelation requires quadratic equations.
Fourth, it's rude.
I am prepared, today, to announce that the world will meet its final and ultimate doom on Wednesday, the 25th of January, 2012. Classes at Cow State Santa Claus are scheduled to begin on Thursday, 26 January, but obviously, I won't be able to make it.
First of all, the notion that once the date passes, a prediction is proved "wrong," is so simplistic that it's false.
Last week, I was able to discern that the world would end after the South Carolina Republican Primary, that is, following the "armageddon" of Rick Santorum's campaign, predicted by Newt Gingrich. As I explained, it is physically impossible for truth and Newt Gingrich to co-exist in this universe, and so, if he had spoken the truth about Santorum's demise, our own would follow.
Now that Gingrich has been declared the winner in South Carolina, and Santorum in Iowa, we know that Gingrich's claim was not true. Thus, we and our universe continue to exist. Somewhere, on a little watery planet light-years away, emerging extremely alien life crawling through primeval slime is unspeakably grateful, whereas we continue to bitch.
Anyway, my point is that my so-called prediction was not "wrong," since the events of Saturday followed precisely the course that I had explained. QED. [Original text: "QED, mutherfucker!" - Ed.]
Second, this whole business of calling for accountability for "wrong" predictions fundamentally mistakes what this is all about. Visionaries like myself (if I do say so) are not "predicting," like cheap side-show palm readers or tarot charlatans. We are engaged in an interpretation of the signs that the world and our holy texts present to us, an interpretation of world events in their ultimate significance, and in their ultimate days.
Third, I'm not very good at math. Specifically, algebra. And believe me, there's a lot of algebra involved in interpreting the signs and holy texts. Parsing Revelation requires quadratic equations.
Fourth, it's rude.
I am prepared, today, to announce that the world will meet its final and ultimate doom on Wednesday, the 25th of January, 2012. Classes at Cow State Santa Claus are scheduled to begin on Thursday, 26 January, but obviously, I won't be able to make it.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
the end of the world - 21 January 2012
And I saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away; and there was no more sea.- Revelations 21:1
Saturday, the 21st of January - 21/01/2012 - is very likely to be the end of the world.
No, it's not because Saturday is the sabbath of the chosen people. And it's not because Jon Huntsman dropped out of the Republican Presidential race.
It's because of Rick Santorum.
Now, before anyone gets any crazy ideas about Santorum, his sanctity, or his electability (especially not his electability, cuz, you know, Santorum). In fact, it's not really because of anything Rick Santorum has done or failed to do. It's not because of his pandering to the bigot vote, and it's not because of his adherence to a very weird theology. And I am not saying that Rick Santorum is the antichrist.
To understand the truth, sometimes you have to look beyond the facts. This is one of those times. Facts cannot help us to understand or to know how and why it is that, of all people, Newt Gingrich has discovered the truth.
This will be difficult to comprehend, so let me take it a little slow.
Cosmologists have speculated about the origin and the state of the universe as we presently experience it. Current thinking seems to coalesce around the notion that the reason this universe is here is that, of all possible universes, no incompossible universes can co-exist in the same space-time. That is, this is the universe we live in, because this is the universe that makes it possible for us to live in it. We can't know of the existence of other universes, which are equally possible to our own, if not compossible with it, because to know of their possibility, we'd have to leave this one, and when we did, we'd stop existing, too.
The gist is, there cannot be two co-existing incompossible universes.
So, let's distinguish two different universes. We'll call the first universe Our Universe, and we'll call the second universe Shit-Crazy Universe, just to keep them distinct.
In Our Universe, there is a guy named Newt Gingrich. Newt Gingrich is a politician in the worst possible sense of the term. I mean to say, it is not possible for Newt Gingrich to utter the truth. When I say it's not possible, I mean, Newt Gingrich and anything approaching the truth cannot co-exist in Our Universe. It is a fundamental law of nature.
Yet, Newt Gingrich has told the truth about the Saturday primary, to wit, that it will be armageddon for Rick Santorum. Despite this, Newt Gingrich apparently continues to exist.
Now, once Saturday's primary concludes, once Rick Santorum is soundly defeated, should Newt Gingrich continue to exist, it must be the case, following this fundamental law of nature, that Our Universe will be destroyed, and the Shit-Crazy Universe will replace it. Armageddon for Rick Santorum will thus be armageddon for us all ... except for Newt Gingrich.
Newt Gingrich: destroyer of universes.
Book it. Just before the drop of the puck in the NY Islanders - Carolina Hurricanes NHL game at 7:08 EST.
Friday, January 13, 2012
the end of the world - NOT Friday, 13 January
As many readers are likely aware, the world did not end in the first intermission of the Winnipeg Jets - San Jose Sharks NHL game last night. I apologize if this led to any inconvenience, but to be frank, the world actually ending would be far more inconvenient than being prepared for a predicted end of the world that was not forthcoming.
I have discovered two minor errors in my previous prediction, and am currently working on revisions to my methodology to account for these errors and assure you, my followers, of much greater accuracy in future clarification of the end times.
First of all, despite the evidence to the contrary, it turns out the Winnipeg Jets have nothing to do with the end of the world. The return of NHL hockey to the Manitoba capital after the previous Jets moved to Phoenix in 1996 would no doubt appear to be a major harbinger. This could still prove to be true, but I am confident that whatever it is a harbinger of is not, in fact, the apocalypse.
Of course, the game between the Jets and the Sharks therefore had no major implications for the ultimate cataclysm, only a little impact on the NHL season, and indeed, there were fewer jazz dance snap fights in the game than I was expecting. Far fewer. The omens and portents are subtle, and interpreting them correctly subtler still. I think, in this instance, I may have been just a little too subtle.
More updates to come, as newrevelations - better make that epiphanies - come to me. Suffice it to say that the world will not end today, Friday the 13th of January. That kind of superstitious claptrap has no business in the understanding of the end of days.
I have discovered two minor errors in my previous prediction, and am currently working on revisions to my methodology to account for these errors and assure you, my followers, of much greater accuracy in future clarification of the end times.
First of all, despite the evidence to the contrary, it turns out the Winnipeg Jets have nothing to do with the end of the world. The return of NHL hockey to the Manitoba capital after the previous Jets moved to Phoenix in 1996 would no doubt appear to be a major harbinger. This could still prove to be true, but I am confident that whatever it is a harbinger of is not, in fact, the apocalypse.
Of course, the game between the Jets and the Sharks therefore had no major implications for the ultimate cataclysm, only a little impact on the NHL season, and indeed, there were fewer jazz dance snap fights in the game than I was expecting. Far fewer. The omens and portents are subtle, and interpreting them correctly subtler still. I think, in this instance, I may have been just a little too subtle.
More updates to come, as new
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
the end of the world - Thursday, 12 January
Obviously, if you're reading this, the world did not end on Tuesday, the New Hampshire primary victory of Mitt Romney notwithstanding, and notwithstanding his call to restore Murrka's moral core.
Anyway, the main problem in my calculations had to do with what happened at 18:21 of the second period of the Winnipeg Jets-Boston Bruins game. Nothing happened at 18:21 of the Winnipeg Jets-Boston Bruins game.
I am now in a better position to understand the prophecy entrusted to me regarding the End Times. I recognize that the pattern involves not Babylon/Boston, and certainly not the relationship between that game and the New Hampshire Republican primary. That would be silly.
It does, however, involve the Jets. I am now prepared to revise my earlier prediction, and want to let all of my followers know that the world will end this coming Thursday, during the NHL game between the Winnipeg Jets and the San Jose Sharks. This is made clear in part by the relevant text from West Side Story. As you know, a significant event in the story is a street fight between rival gangs, the Jets and the Sharks.
The fight takes place, in the old film version of the show, by way of modern dance and jazzy finger-snapping. No doubt, there will be a lot of that in the game Thursday night.
But the clincher here, what really tells us the full story and gives us certainty that this is the true moment of the climactic end of the world, is Mitt Romney's New Hampshire primary victory speech today, in which he promised not only to unseat Barack Obama, but to restore Murrka's moral core.
When I first saw this speech on CNN, I said, "What the hell is Mitt Romney talking about? Get that hypocritical bitch cow corporate whore off my TV screen, before I shoot it again!" On further reflection, it's obvious. West Side Story was written by the notoriously gay Leonard Bernstein, who was not only gay, but also incredibly gay. Nothing could be more anti-Murrkan than being a gay gay gay frickin' gay frickin' Jewish gay Jew, like Bernstein. Bernstein was probably also a Commie pinko red gay frickin red gay gay red pinko East Coast intellectual effete gay effete Jew.
This can't possibly be a coincidence. Romney wins in New Hampshire. The Jets play the Sharks. West Side Story. Leonard "Super Gay Pinko Gay Jewish Gay Commie Jew" Bernstein.
Puck drops around 8:38 EST in the 'Peg. Armageddon in the first intermission.
Anyway, the main problem in my calculations had to do with what happened at 18:21 of the second period of the Winnipeg Jets-Boston Bruins game. Nothing happened at 18:21 of the Winnipeg Jets-Boston Bruins game.
I am now in a better position to understand the prophecy entrusted to me regarding the End Times. I recognize that the pattern involves not Babylon/Boston, and certainly not the relationship between that game and the New Hampshire Republican primary. That would be silly.
It does, however, involve the Jets. I am now prepared to revise my earlier prediction, and want to let all of my followers know that the world will end this coming Thursday, during the NHL game between the Winnipeg Jets and the San Jose Sharks. This is made clear in part by the relevant text from West Side Story. As you know, a significant event in the story is a street fight between rival gangs, the Jets and the Sharks.
When you're a Jet,
You're a Jet all the way
From your first cigarette
To your last dyin' day.
When you're a Jet,
If the spit hits the fan,
You got brothers around,
You're a family man!
You're never alone,
You're never disconnected!
You're home with your own:
When company's expected,
You're well protected!
Then you are set
With a capital J,
Which you'll never forget
Till they cart you away.
When you're a Jet,
You stay a Jet!
The fight takes place, in the old film version of the show, by way of modern dance and jazzy finger-snapping. No doubt, there will be a lot of that in the game Thursday night.
But the clincher here, what really tells us the full story and gives us certainty that this is the true moment of the climactic end of the world, is Mitt Romney's New Hampshire primary victory speech today, in which he promised not only to unseat Barack Obama, but to restore Murrka's moral core.
When I first saw this speech on CNN, I said, "What the hell is Mitt Romney talking about? Get that hypocritical bitch cow corporate whore off my TV screen, before I shoot it again!" On further reflection, it's obvious. West Side Story was written by the notoriously gay Leonard Bernstein, who was not only gay, but also incredibly gay. Nothing could be more anti-Murrkan than being a gay gay gay frickin' gay frickin' Jewish gay Jew, like Bernstein. Bernstein was probably also a Commie pinko red gay frickin red gay gay red pinko East Coast intellectual effete gay effete Jew.
This can't possibly be a coincidence. Romney wins in New Hampshire. The Jets play the Sharks. West Side Story. Leonard "Super Gay Pinko Gay Jewish Gay Commie Jew" Bernstein.
Puck drops around 8:38 EST in the 'Peg. Armageddon in the first intermission.
Sunday, January 08, 2012
the end of the world - Tuesday, 10 January
And a mighty angel took up a stone like a great millstone, and cast it into the sea, saying, Thus with violence shall that great city Babylon be thrown down, and shall be found no more at all.
Revelations 18:21
New Hampshire - the Granite State, named for that stone of which many millstones have been made over the centuries - is, of course, a border state to Massachusetts, wherein lies Boston. Many tax evaders live in New Hampshire rather than Massachusetts, and commute down to Boston for lucrative jobs. Boston, being a large East Coast city, is therefore comparable to Babylon.
On Saturday, the Boston Bruins, 2011 Stanley Cup champions, lost to fellow Cup finalist Vancouver Canucks in a bloody, violent NHL game. The Bruins' next game is Tuesday, which is coincidentally the date of the New Hampshire Primary. Boston will play the Winnipeg Jets, and the puck will drop approximately 7:08 PM EST. The polls close at 8:00 PM EST, which is likely to be around the start of the second period.
The Great Millstone - the Granite State's GOP presidential primary election - falls on the same day as the Boston - that is, the Babylon - Bruins play in their very next game after the tremendous outburst of violence in Saturday's game. Thus with the millstone, and violence, Babylon will be no more.
Book it. With 18:21 left in the second period of the Boston-Winnipeg game, the world will end.