The end is nigh

The joys of essay week, barring yourself off from the rest of humanity to engross your mind in a world swamped with facts, figures and unexplained terms. Two history essays and 4000 words later the joy of finally being free from the metaphorical shackles which had constrained me to a mindset which encapsulated reading, writing and no small amount of procrastination, engulfed my mind. Yet then the horror struck me, like a hurricane blustering devastatingly on its path; it was all for nothing. The hours of mindless thought, the bleary eyes and missed opportunities were all a waste, for in less than a month the world as we know it will end.

At least that’s if we believe the ancient Mayan calendar, which affirms that on the night of the 21st December 2012 the apocalypse will devastate Earth. Who wouldn’t trust Mayan prophecy, and why would the ancient civilization make false professions? Forget the sceptics; it is official we have only weeks left on our planet. So why spend all those hours writing tedious essays, reading grating extracts from self-obsessed authors and sitting through lectures which make your head hurt. It doesn’t matter now, you’ll never have chance to complete your degree; the suffering we’ve all endured through those painful essay weeks was in vain.

So with only a matter of weeks remaining, how should I spend my time, living life to the full or as a model history student spending endless days with my nose in a book? The first definitely seems the more appealing, what use will any more historical knowledge be when the apocalypse arrives? Forget the lectures, seminars and external work; with time withering away it’s time to concentrate all your attention on making the most of your last weeks. There’s one thing at least it’ll be a cheap Christmas this year; so if your student budget is running low then don’t worry, instead blow the budget and go wild.

Yet wait, there’s another way! Scrimp together those last few pennies, book your flights and board your plane, it’s time for a holiday. For not all hope has been evaporated, not all of Earth will be eviscerated; London, New York and Beijing beware, the mighty name of Bugarach is set to become the commercial centre of the world. Whilst our mighty cities are wiped away, the sleepy little French village in the Pyrenees, with a population of 176 will stand tall and survive the apocalypse. Or at least that is what the Mayans believe, and as I said they’d never spread false truths.

So off to Bugarach it is; the village with only two narrow streets, paltry agriculture and which has been attributed the title of “the doomsday destination” by CNN. Its fame is rocketing, tourism has the prospect to thrive, but not all of the locals are impressed by the intrusion which may envelope the usual peacefulness of their lives. So don’t expect a fanfare and a warm reception, but at least you’ll survive the horrors that will beset us on that fateful day.

However perhaps now it’s time to abscond from the world of fantasy, and return to reality. My belief in the reliability of the Mayan prophecies may well be misplaced to say the least; this isn’t the first time groups have professed that the apocalypse is set to arrive, and the Earth is still standing. So I’d better go and fetch that scrunched up Christmas list from the wastepaper basket, cancel the holiday and start checking the bank account. All the grand plans for the next few weeks must be ditched, and instead the rigmarole of the fabled trio of lectures, seminars and excessive reading must reform the repetition of the weekly routine. But on a positive note, at least the heavy slog of essay week had some purpose to it.