Becoming weary over world’s end

Viewpoint by Colt Langley/managing editor

“The future’s uncertain, and the end is always near,” sang Jim Morrison in The Doors’ song “Roadhouse Blues.”

The lyric brings up a good point. For thousands of years, people have long awaited the end, always saying in certainty that they know the end is coming soon, but still no one can tell me what’s going to happen tomorrow. Maybe I should study my palms.

It’s true, like with anything, anticipating the end of the world and counting on an afterlife has brought some good to humankind, like keeping oneself in check and not murdering one’s neighbor for something ridiculous.

I’m not trying to take shots or even discount any religion’s view on the end of the world. I’m just sick of turning on my TV and watching some program about 2012 or Nostradamus. I couldn’t care less what that man said however long ago.

Sure, when Sept. 11 happened, I thought Nostradamus’ prophecy was kind of intriguing.

But after witnessing things go on like normal nine years later, I take his message and modern interpretations of it with a grain of salt.

The other night a show called Earth 2100 ran on the History Channel. It was a story of a little girl born Jan. 1, 2009, and all the changes she saw in her life until 2100 when everything just went way downhill.

The show had some good points, like what would happen if we don’t clean up after ourselves. At least it had a point.

But it became less interesting because its forecast of the future was so negative. Had it been a bit more positive, I might have watched more.

This isn’t about apocalyptic ends as much as people’s fascination with them. The fascination is everywhere: newsstands, TV, the box office and just daily conversation.

That’s when I leave a conversation. The reason is the conversation will just go nowhere. No one around the table or the bar holds any authority on the subject.

Back to the song lyric. The first time I heard it, I laughed and thought, no kidding — right on.

It’s a funny line, but if people take it seriously, they’ll see what’s really funny — all the fear, fussing and preaching.