Apocalypses I Covet, Apocalypses I Don’tby Justin Hamm
March 1, 2010
Little sister, I certainly wish I could tell you that in the end the fifty states will be stood on end, their counties sliding and plunging into the fat, wide, hungry nothing, little sister, like misshapen teardrops, or that the months, at least, will sue for emancipation from their oppressor the calendar, leaving mankind no time frames in which to safely exist. It could happen that we will all become lost while roaming the topography of our own personalities, little sister, having understandably mistaken them for regions successfully traversed with aid of flashlight and map, but what I fear most is anticlimax: what if there is no strange ending to befit the weird history of human existence? What if we simply keel over all at once when the dual cancers of excessive choice and freedom have crowded out the essential nutrients like compassion and love?