The sun sure is pretty for something that will be covered by blood, ash, and fallout soon

I was just going through my daily routine when I looked up and noticed just how sun-shiny the world is today. I mean, everything just seemed so…nice. And to think, in just 11 short months, on Dec 21, 2012, the sky will be red with the blood of ravished humanity. But today, gee wiz, it’s pretty.

I looked down and noticed a few of wildflowers growing near a tree behind Dr. Frederick’s hot tub deck, and I was just caught up in its simple beauty. It’s hard to imagine this lovely manifestation of humble godliness trampled under the feat of endless scores of hostile refugees, fleeing for their lives in a hopeless maddening frenzy, fertilizing the ground with their melting flesh as the nuclear fallout and weaponized anthrax slowly turns them into mutated beasts hardly resembling any form of humanity, searching for loved ones and scraps of food hampered by blinding, suffocating ash from the eruption of the Yellowstone Supervolcano darkening every step. I mean, call me a softy, but this simple flower is just so pretty.

Hard to believe that this cute, little puppy will be a ruthless, scavenging killer by this time next year.

Sigh, such a sight should not go unappreciated. Not today. Maybe when  the magnetic poles reverse themselves causing a magnitude of earthquakes, eruptions, and tsunamis unlike anything mankind has ever witnessed in its brief history, threatening the very existence of life on this planet. Maybe then not appreciating the warm fuzzies you get from seeing a newborn puppy would be forgivable, but not on a sunny, cool day like this one. Oh! That cloud looks like a starfish!

Maybe I’m just in a good mood. But even though planetary alignment of far-away solar systems with our own will cause catastrophic solar flares that will instantly knock out entire populations and infrastructure without warning with a power hundreds of thousands of times the force of the nuclear bombs that wiped out Hiroshima and Nagasaki, that doesn’t mean you can’t sit down on your porch just to appreciate the early morning dew with a good cup of coffee. Umm, now that’s a good cup.

– Bill