You've all heard the story of "The Boy Who Cried Wolf." I've been thinking lately that the modern equivalent might be "The Boy Who Cried Armageddon." Here we are, 2012, and although most of us understand the silliness of the Mayan Doomsday Prophecy, some others are taking it seriously and dreading the arrival of December 21, 2012. Of course, December 22 will come around like any other day and those who fell for the "end of the world" hype will feel foolish, but the rest of us will arguably be worse off, because it will be another example of Chicken Little screaming in vain that the sky is falling.
As a kid, reading the origin of Superman, I recall thinking, "How can the Kryptonians not believe Jor-El's warnings about the impending destruction of their planet?" As the politically charged Climate Change debate has proven here in the real world, not everyone heeds scientists' dire forecasts of global catastrophe. Maybe Jor-El was a victim of living in a society with too many false prophets hollering that "The End is near!" Maybe Krypton had its own Y2K non-event, so Jor-El's efforts to save his world fell on jaded ears.
The end of our fragile orb will eventually come, whether by man-made calamity or natural termination of its planetary life cycle. Instead of worrying if it will come by a battle at Megiddo or our sun going supernova or some peculiar repurcussions from the end of the Mesoamerican Long Count calendar, we should live in the present and not take anything for granted, because, like Superman's homeworld, it might all be gone in the wink of an eye.
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