As of right now, it’s midnight, December 21, 2012.

The end of the world likely means something different to every single person. Short of epic destruction, widespread panic and devastation, I am not entirely opposed to the idea of dramatic change. My hope is that if, in expectation of something happening, we manifest the kind of end that results in the demise of pettiness, of covetousness, of elitism. There is enough for everyone to get what they need. There is a way for everyone to have enough without depleting our resources to a place where they will never recover. But it has to start now. I’m hopeful. Even after years of perfecting cynicism, condescension and a general lack of belief in the wisdom of the human race to sort it’s shit out and stop being so damn mediocre, I still believe that everything will work out in a delightfully ecstatic and joyful manner.

I don’t think it will happen overnight, in one day. Though, wouldn’t that be amazing if we all had an awakening, a moment of extreme epiphany like In the Days of the Comet by HG Wells.

But I have to say, just in case, I am absolutely enamoured of you all, and I do mean all of you, without exception. Because it’s right. Even if I think you’re an idiot, and there are a lot of you that I think this of, you have your moments, as do we all. And that is something to be celebrated. Whether the mother ship descends and brings back the pants of those who lost them at that festival that time, or the 7th house aligns and windows into dimensions we never imagined possible make themselves known to us, if time suddenly bends and linear becomes a notion we speak of as a past occurence, if dogs and dolphins finally admit they’ve known the secret to success is a good belly rub and the sound of the waves under a moon so bright it can make your heart feel like it will burst with joy, it really doesn’t matter what it is.

I’m here. I’m in. Bring it.