12/12/12

I’m sure there’s many people writing songs, poems, articles, novels and whatever else today. The 12^th of the 12^th 12. A date that hasn’t occurred in a thousand years, one that won’t occur for another thousand. Continuous dates are rare, 12 of them in a millennium. It seems right to mark it in some way.

After all Shakespeare, Joyce… wait a minute, shur this bollocks, it’ll happen in a hundred years, not a thousand. Fuck me, I thought it was a momentous day and I suppose it is for my lifetime but it’s not that big of a deal.

I’ve been thinking about writing this piece all day and continuous dates ending for about a year at least. At first today I thought it had been two thousand years since the last continuous dates even though the man who brought about our calendar would have only been hitting puberty then. Then I thought it was a thousand, now I realize it’s been a hundred.

I had these grand notions of being able to do something Shakespeare and Joyce and all the other greats of literature never could.

I was thinking about writing about how on the last continuous date the printing press hadn’t been invented. But I failed to think it through properly.

Well, here I am, with nonetheless a significant date and with the feeling I should write about it.

I’m going to think of this like a bit of a time capsule for a future person to read on the 12/12/2112. Maybe a grandson of mine. It might even be me, technology is moving wicked fast and life longevity or ‘seemingly’ eternal human life may not be that far away.

If there is this ‘seemingly’ eternal life with you in the year 2112 there is something I must tell you and listen to me very closely, “You are not fucking immortal!”

Even if you’ve cured all diseases and stopped the ageing process something’s gonna get cha!

Let  me explain by using a quote from a book/film from the 1990s called Fight Club (Dig that one out of the archives if it has been forgotten), “On a long enough timeline everyone’s survival rate drops to zero.”

No matter how unlikely it is that a ninja will jump out of a bush and chop your head off given enough time it’s going to happen.  

“Aha!” I hear shout through the time vortex, “Silly man from the past, we’ve developed perfect decapitation re-headification therapy. I got my head chopped off five times this week alone. It’s comparable to getting a cold in your time.”

It doesn’t matter you arrogant bastard, so long as there is one thing that can end your existence it will happen. Even if that is just being caught in a supernova or sucked into a black hole, it will happen to you. And if you try to tell me you’ve developed something that can help you survive a supernova I say bollocks and show me the me the mental patient willing to try it.

Your lives are probably longer, you’re probably healthier and smoking is probably a distant memory. If you’ve forgotten about smoking it’s when you roll tobacco leaves in paper and smoke it. It’s really good for you, you should try it. It’s a bit smelly and if you don’t like it don’t worry, you can quit anytime you want.

I doubt you’re happier. Life is probably longer for you but I bet it seems to go very fast. It’s still precious and valuable. There is probably still nothing better than having a good laugh. I hope you’re having many I hope this contributes. Viva 2112!