It’s the End of the World As We Know It, and Sam Feels Fine [Fierce Anticipation]

Happy New Year and Welcome back! Before we begin, remember: this may be the FIRST entry of the LAST year of Fierce Anticipation, before the vengeful feathered-snake god Quetzalcoatl flies from on high, scorching the earth and summoning Cthulhu and the other ancient ones to wreak their unspeakable horrors unto mankind, until the skies become as black as satin cloth, and the Black Eyed Peas reign supreme… or, you know, not that. 

Fiercely Anticipating

Believe it or not, I am very much anticipating my new years resolutions. Ah yes, New Years Resolutions: the self-imposed, yet societally-enforced, tradition of setting unrealistic goals for oneself, and simultaneously setting yourself up for defeat. You inevitably reach the crushing realization that you, as always, SUCK at keeping resolutions.

Each year, we make lofty goals to “lose 50 lbs (and keep it off!)” or “quit smoking, for real this time” or “stop buying from that convenience store down the street that I am confident is guilty of human trafficking, but is the only one on this side of town that carries Schwepp’s ginger ale.” We make these goals, and then we give up. We give up because we set the bar way to high.

For the last several years, I have kept my goals realistic; open and ambiguous. When asked what my resolutions were, I’d say “This year, I will settle the score” or “show them all.” This usually resulted in the other person smiling politely, as I rubbed my hands together maniacally, magically dimming the lights around me while organ music crescendos.

This year, I do have some actual goals; goals I am really Fiercely Anticipating because I genuinely will enjoy getting them done. And if you give a crap, here they are listed below (if not, I’ll see you down at the next section):

• Lose more weight. I’ve been doing much better, weight wise, this past year. My goal is to lose 10-20 more lbs this year so I can wear clothes I have not been able to wear since middle school. Are Z Cavariccis still in style?
• Use technology less. Nah, Macbook. I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean that. You know I love you.
• Catch up on Music, Movies,TV, and Reading. Yes. An actual resolution. I have neglected a lot of newer trends. For example, over the last week, I have watched the first two seasons of Breaking Bad. I have The Shield up next, followed by Archer. Also, I have to rediscover the music of Elvis Costello and the writings of Stephen King.
• Officially learn guitar. No more half-assing it and pretending!
• Build a smoker. I am tired of having to buy my meats at stores and restaurants, pre-smoked!

On the Fence About

Oh, there you are. You made it. Good.

This year has an impressive slate of nerd-core movies, but as always with highly anticipated flicks, I remain cautiously optimistic. With The Dark Knight Rises, The Avengers, The Amazing Spider-Man, The Hobbit, a new one from Tarantino, and many more, I approach this year in cinema cautiously optimistic. Sure, they look great; the trailers have left me breathless. The Avengers has… EVERYTHING. And Dark Knight  has Heinz Ward!

But…. *sigh* Look, it’s not you, Summer Tentpole Movies. It’s me.

How dare you.

I have been hurt many times before, twice by Ryan Reynolds (in Blade 3 and Green Lantern. And I liked him so much in Two Guys, A Girl, and a Pizza Place!). I just can’t keep doing th—

Okay, if I give you one more chance, do you promise not to put nipples on the bat-suit, and have Robert Downey, Jr. talk for an entire act before he puts on armor? Okay. I’m sorry I doubted you…

Not Looking Forward To

As this is 2012, I am really not looking forward to the onslaught of apocalyptic talk. History Chanel has been airing enough Armageddon specials to make me want to chug the kool-aid preemptively.

As far back as I can remember, the apocalypse is every year. Every year it’s “the big one.” The asteroid is coming, the flood waters are rising, the earthquakes will awaken the mighty sarlacc to swallow us whole. And every year, when a disaster strikes, people start pointing the finger to the Mayan calendar saying “Toldja!” Magically, we survive every year, only to have the date conveniently pushed back to the next year. Religious zealots, cultists, and (my new favorite) Ancient Astronaut “theorists” claim that December 21, 2012 is it. Kaput. The final curtain. The last pudding cup on the salad bar. The end of everything. No more baby seals, Xbox, Trader Joe’s, Hoobastank, promotional big gulp cups from 7-11, chimichurri steak, George Takei, or oscillating fans.

Or this

I am just going to put this to bed right now. The Mayans, NOWHERE in their predictions, discussed an end of days. They did say how at that date (the last on their calendar), things would “start over.” Why did they say this? Because it was the end of their cycle. Like December 31st of every year on our calendar. If the Mayan calendar was a One-A-Day Farside Calendar by Gary Larson, you’d tear off December 21, 2012 like any other day to reveal a cardboard backing. It’s so tough to tear off pages made of stone slab, by the way. Presumably it would be a comic wherein a Mayan priest is conducting a human sacrifice, holding a heart in his hand, and saying “Thank you, and for my next trick…”

This won’t stop people, all year, from worrying about it. And going on TV and crying, praying the end of days is nigh.

Hey, I’m a Hebrew. We are the chosen ones. I don’t gotta do jack squat! If it is the end of days, and zombies show up, and Abe Vigoda takes his place as king of the mole men, and the McRib never comes back but rather becomes sentient and enslaves us all… good. Humanity had a good run.

I mean, unless the Mayans were dyslexic, and it’s actually December 12, 2102.

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