Armageddon, Part II - The Evil Deep

Friday, August 13, 2010
Armageddon, Part II - The Evil Deep
Current mood: Scared
Category: Blogging

I wrote yesterday about my fear of the coming Armageddon and I didn’t even mention the sea, aside from the great wall of ice that is moseying down from the Greenland Arctic to destroy the rainforests and everything in between. Forget about the fact that wildfires are stirring up the deadly ghosts of whatever radioactive nuclear nonsense is still idling in the Soviet dirt near Chernobyl. Forget about mudslides and volcanoes and AIDS. Forget about second-hand smoke and peanut allergies and methamphetamine. Cancer, mesothelioma and vast underwater lakes of oil can all be put on hold.

Let’s talk about jellyfish.

Hundreds of swimmers are being stung by swarms of jellyfish off the coast of Spanish beaches. I wasn’t aware that jellyfish could swarm. I thought they traveled in schools, or herds or packs. Swarm is a much more frightening word, however, invoking images of wasps, bees and hornets. Maybe all things that sting travel in a swarm. Does that mean scorpions gather in swarms? I would imagine scorpions travel alone anyhow, much preferring to savor their stinging pleasures alone – they look like loners. Mean little, angry loners. They freak me out – though not as much as the ocean freaks me out.

My friends know me to be a landlubber. I can go out on a boat fishing, or for a pleasure-cruise. I even got a DUI once in Wisconsin driving a boat too fast on a landlocked lake. I wasn’t aware of this particular regulation or I might have curtailed the speed a bit. Or my consumption of Old Style – live and learn. I prefer to swim, when wheedled into a swimming situation, in a swimming pool and if forced into a natural body of water, need constant, almost childlike assurances that sharks, piranha and manta rays are not indigenous. If they are, I will forgo my dip into the refreshing pool of danger and meet my companions at a nearby bar later, when their daredevilish need for danger has been sated.

The article I skimmed stated: “The jellyfish are tiny and invisible, meaning it is difficult to warn bathers of their presence.” And these tiny little invisible messengers of death are swarming – let’s not forget that part. They have somehow gathered together in a tiny invisible death squad and they are massacring the Spaniards! Trust me – I’m not that crazy about the Spaniards, either. I hear that they are not trustworthy and only care about gambling and fine cigars. But to read about them being attacked by swarms of angry little invisible, tentacled demonic minions of the deep chills my soul. I know that the Spaniards are just the beginning – an easy target, because they are a swarthy people and easily distracted by the sound of the waves. Soon it will be the French lollygaggers and the ponces along the Mediterranean – after that, it’s anybody’s guess where these poisonous assassins will turn up. But it is only a matter of time before they brave the tanning-oil slick of Mission Beach in our own San Diego, or the stench of the beaches of Atlantic City to begin their reign of terror on our own shores, mark my words.

Armageddon is coming for sure – but it may not be in the form of a rain of fire and brimstone. It may wash up from the evil deep. Just sayin’.

COMING FOR THE WEEKEND: An exerpt from the upcoming Brad Chambers novel "The Dark Bond of Sin"

The Coming Armageddon

Thursday, August 12, 2010
The Coming Armageddon
Current mood: anxious
Category: Blogging

It seems that my attention span, like many things as I grow older, is not what it once was. I don’t read as much and the idea of watching a movie makes me feel as if I am going to be trapped for that two hours and will never get them back. I zone out halfway through conversations if they do not contain detailed descriptions of a shapely barmaid without any clothes on. I rarely make it to the seventh inning stretch when I watch a baseball game and I immediately turn the channel whenever I see Chris Berman. My attention wanes and I have no patience.

What this has done, is given me a “big picture” mentality. I skim the news, rarely reading enough to truly understand the issues at hand – and please understand that I am generally happier without total comprehension – just enough to panic. So when I read about a mudslide in China that has killed 700, or weather so hot in Russia that wildfires have threatened to release radioactive waste from Chernobyl into the air or that there is an oil leak spouting bazillions of gallons of toxins into our oceans, threatening to seriously unbalance our sea habitat and our worldwide ecosystem, I generally prefer to put my head firmly in the sand and listen to my Beatle albums. Huge slabs – islands – of ice four times the size of Manhattan shearing off of a glacier and making their way slowly through the sea, promising destruction on a massive scale? Simply put in Rubber Soul and have a peanut butter sandwich. Someone is bound to take care of this, right? Right?

But this is getting ridiculous. When a big-picture man such as myself sees all this stuff happening at one time, I cannot help but think that Armageddon is at hand. This is worse than any Bruce Willis thriller – Hollywood could not match this worldwide catastrophe with an entire pack of paranoid, nicotine-addled screenwriters. My question is this – what are we going to do? Should we wait for the politicians of our nation and the world to lead us as the skies rain fire and brimstone, or should we count on those in touch with God to point the way? I am at an impasse, because I trust neither fully and am a little uncomfortable with handholding in tight situations. I find it limits my abilities to bolt screaming in another direction when the shit really starts to fly.

I don’t know if I should start boning up (skimming, really) my history books to pick up handy hints from those who dealt with the plague and Noah’s flood and the business with Sodom and Gomorrah, or to begin preparing my Armageddon Kit and digging out a shelter, like the ones folks built in the fifties when the Russians were poised to send some nuclear bullshit our way.

I suppose I could write a letter to Al Gore – he seems to know what’s going on with the earth and all the global warming and stuff, or the people at Greenpeace – I just don’t know if a letter is going to do the trick and I’m nearly certain that if I receive a relpy, it won’t give me clear direction. I have found this to be true in the past when I have ordered manuals of instruction, I see no reason for this to be any different.

I’ll tell you what, though – if I see anyone turn into a pillar of salt right before my very eyes, I am going with the religious folks. Until then, I have Abbey Road locked and loaded on my IPod – everything is going to be okay, right? Right?



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