Well, it’s here. We’ve finally reached the end of the Mayan calendar. Now we will finally know with certainty whether the world is going to come to an end on Dec. 21, or if the guy chipping away the dates simply ran out of room for adding more days on his rock.
Either way, this whole “end of the world” has raised some very important philosophical questions such as, “Can a Mayan make a calendar so big that he can’t lift it?” We may soon have an answer.
Whatever happens this week, we decided it would be helpful to our readers to explore the issues surrounding the end of the world. We have provided an important list of things to look for as signs the world is ending. We’ve made suggestions for what to do with your last day. We’ve even offered up some benefits of the world coming to an end. And finally, for those of you who have a hard time thinking clearly in the last hours of your existence, we’ve provided suggestions for the best locations from which to watch the whole planet be destroyed. It’s not every day that the world ends, so be sure to get out and enjoy this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
By these signs you will know that the end is near:
You will drive by an empty retail space somewhere in Boulder County and in the window you will NOT see a “For Lease by Tebo Development” sign. What’s that sound in the distance? I think it’s three, no, make that four, horses.
Finally torn loose from its moorings and foundation, the blue demon horse at DIA begins galloping across the plains, killing people with its laser eyes. As we have said many times since its artist met with an untimely death, “It has killed before, and it will kill again.”
Political gadfly Seth Brigham returns to the city below the Flatirons and proceeds to do a series of somersaults and pirouettes in front of city council while singing Jackson Browne’s “Before the Deluge.”
The Denver Broncos acquire the greatest quarterback in NFL history and will be marching effortlessly towards a long overdue Super Bowl victory. Of course the world would end now, just when Bronco fans are finally able to cheer again. But know this: If there is an NFL heaven, Tim Tebow will most likely get the start.
After acknowledging that his puritan values are not in tune with the community, considering recent crackdowns on alcohol and pot, Boulder City Attorney Tom Carr steps down, citing personal conflicts with carrying out job duties. Council members George Karakehian and Ken Wilson follow suit, but not until after they authorize a seven-figure performance bonus for Carr that they forget to run by the rest of council for approval. At which point the rest of council breaks out the booze and marijuana hidden under their long desk.
CU announces it has decided to throw campus gates wide open to the annual 4/20 smokeout, as a symbol of one of the principles the university was founded on: free and unfettered expression in a marketplace of ideas. Chancellor Phil DiStefano and President Bruce Benson lead a processional of pot smokers across Norlin Quad for opening ceremonies.
Councilwoman Lisa Morzel decides that there are actually some trails within the city limits of Boulder that should be opened up to those newfangled contraptions the young folk call mountain bikes. Sadly, Boulder Weekly Publisher Stewart Sallo and Boulder Mountainbike Alliance’s Jason Vogel are hit by a giant meteor just before making their first ride to Royal Arch. The end of the world is so unfair.
Members of Boulder City Council finally complete the revision of the financial disclosure form they are required to fill out each year in order to avoid conflicts of interest. The new form has only one paragraph, which states, “Please list all of the businesses you are involved with in any way, all of the real estate you have any interest in, even if it’s only as an investor in an LLC, or any other legal entity designed to hide your connections from the public eye, and finally, list every person who owns an interest along with you in any business or real estate you own, including LLCs that you have designated for retirement, your kid’s college fund, or any other arbitary reason that you wrongly believe makes those investments exempt from Colorado’s election laws.” In the end, City Attorney Tom Carr declares that the new one-paragraph form is too long and complicated for city leaders to grasp, and five council members refuse to fill out the new form after declaring that such information would make them unelectable and of far less value to their developer friends.
Someone finally figures out that Longmont City Council member Bonnie Finley’s day job with the Colorado Association of Commerce and Industry actually requires her to recuse herself from all votes regarding the oil and gas industry and other business entities for which the Chamber acts as a lobbying arm.
Things we wish we had done before the world ended:
Tried every beer at Backcountry Pizza. OK, maybe this one is more about personal accomplishment, not necessarily enjoyment. There have got to be some busts on Backcountry’s tap and bottle list — after all, it spans eight letter-size pages and covers every imaginable combo of water, barley, hops and yeast. But it’s a journey we know would be worth traveling.
Take Jolly Pumpkin Artisan Ales. You know, the crown jewel of Dexter, Mich.? OK, we don’t know them either. But we wish we had had the chance. Backcountry carries 11 of their beers, out-repping New Belgium, Odell, Avery and Upslope combined. They’ve got a Spanish beer, a Swedish, a couple Norwegians, two New Zealand…ish? They’ve got ABV ranges from 3.2 to 19.3. Somewhere they’ve probably got a beer that glows bright blue and must be eaten with a fork. We’re sad to miss out on that one the most.
Dumped a load of fracking fluid on Hickenlooper’s front lawn. How good would it feel to borrow a tanker full of carcinogenic fracking fluid and drive it straight to the governor’s mansion and proceed to make crop circles on the lawn by dumping the toxic brew as you drive around, just like the oil companies do all over our fields and back roads every day.
The best part, when Hick starts to complain, you’d get to explain to him that pouring benzene and 500-plus other types of lethal crap on his lawn — the same stuff that just made his dog turn paws up faster than it could take a leak on a mansion rose bush — is pretty much legal. That’s because it’s been immorally exempted from the Clean Water Act, Clean Air Act and pretty much every other law designed to protect the environment, for purely political reasons. It wouldn’t hurt to also remind the guv that his blind support for this dirty industry is most likely why the Mayans put an end to their calendar in the first place. Unlike Frackenlooper, they could see the writing on the wall.
Bought more Flagstaff House meals on credit card (and invited friends). You know, gotten a couple of rounds of drinks first, then appetizers, multiple courses, and don’t forget dessert! If you decide to do this on the last day, the view of that glow in the east should be outstanding. Runners up for more credit card debt include Frasca, SALT and The Bitter Bar.
Ran naked down the Pearl Street Mall. Especially wearing a pumpkin on your head — oh wait, people have already done that. Maybe we would have mixed it up a bit by wearing something else on our head, like underwear or fruit.
Eaten all of the samples at Cheese Importers in one visit. This Longmont purveyor of cheese and other goodies from all over Europe always has plenty of tasting trays. (On Friday, their giant walk-in cooler might provide some temporary protection against the advancing flames.)
Taken a deep drag on Pearl Street. An impending ban from Boulder City Council will stub out smoking on Boulder’s Pearl Street Mall, but while we have the time, we’re lighting one up on the mall, health risks be damned.
It’s a shame we won’t get to see Pearl Street beautified by the ban, which supposedly will reduce litter and air pollution. We all know, if you want to make Pearl Street less ugly, you need a dress code. Unfortunately, with the world ending and all, city council won’t get their chance at that one.
Held more three-margarita sessions at the Rio. Yes, they say the limit is three, and yet sometimes we thought it was prudent to stop at two. But there were so many fun, crazy things that happened after three, especially when we took the party across to the Walrus for some pool! And maybe, just maybe, one four-margarita night, just to have finally tasted the forbidden fruit … with a designated driver of course.
Discovered ZIP Code Man’s secret. This guy’s got to develop a 10-step learning program in his next life, if there is one. It’s just scary how accurately he can describe the burger joint on that corner in Paducah, Texas.
Had more Italian sub sandwiches. Yeah, so there were a lot of times we brought that leftover garbanzo bean salad or hummus pita sandwich from home for lunch, but in hindsight, nothing satisfies like a bunch of meat and other goodies between two rolls, washed down with a soda. Especially at our local dives, like Snarf ’s, Salvaggio’s and Half Fast Subs.
Spent more time frolicking at our fun spots. We’re talking about places where we often held back and just watched the kids, like the fountain in front of the Courthouse, the WOW! Children’s Museum in Lafayette and the Pinball Museum in Lyons. Also would have done more creek tubing.
Watched NHL hockey again. The National Hockey League is in the midst of its fourth labor stoppage in 20 years, and with the world ending, we’ll never watch another NHL game. Oh, wait. That’s true even if the world doesn’t end. The league might come back to us, but we aren’t coming back to the league.
Gotten Boulder’s voice and sight dog tags. Golly, this one just slipped our minds.
We sure do love Boulder’s dog tag program, which provides a valuable and relevant service to citizens. And we just couldn’t wait to watch a video, sign a document and lay down $15, thereby completing the globally recognized steps to becoming a good dog owner.
Unfortunately, the world’s ending before we could get around to it. Now we’ll have to find some better use for our $15, if there is any in the whole world.
Yelled “go wild and free” to my dog on a crowded Boulder trail as proof that the crazy little fellow is under voice control.
Upsides to the end of the world:
No more fracking. Yes, the evils of hydraulic fracturing will come to an end, although the fumes may make for quite a show as fire sweeps across the land. We sure wish we had some of that hydraulic fracturing water back, to put out some of these flames.
Monsanto no longer exists. So it turns out the genetically modified organisms (GMOs) we’ve been consuming were not, ultimately, what killed us after all. In fact, if anything survives beyond Dec. 21, it will most likely be the superbugs that Monsanto created as a result of turning the world into its own private GMO testing ground.
No more losing seasons for CU football. In addition, the Buffaloes will never hire another much-ballyhooed coach who doesn’t deliver. Plus, no more CU football players will get into legal trouble, and the athletics budget deficit will become immaterial. But, as a side note, even after the world ends, CU will still be paying off the contracts of Gary Barnett, Dan Hawkins and Jon Embree well into eternity.
The term “fiscal cliff” will only be spoken in hell by the members of Congress who pushed the rest of us over its edge.
Donald Trump, reality TV, the Tea Party, countries that stone women, idiots that think God gave them the right to own an assault rifle, people who think global warming is made up, Humvee owners, academic morons like Jay Rosen who think that “crowd sourcing” can replace the Fourth Estate, Jerry Jones, Lindsay Lohan, people who watch Entertainment Tonight, boy bands, toy poodles cut to look like shrubbery, gay bashers, racists, white men who think the playing field is level, companies that pay women less than men, people who text and drive or drink and drive or just drive like crap, Walmart and even the loud guy at the end of the bar with his button undone to show his gold chain, will all be gone forever.
Best places to watch the end of the world:
From the top of the Third Flatiron, or from any of those pullouts along Flagstaff Road, really. The advancing armies of death should be quite visible from there. Plus, you will get to witness the fireballs and subsequent pops as the oil and gas wells in Weld County go up in flames.
From the top of Valmont Butte. From here, if the source of destruction comes from, say, Los Angeles, you will have a great view of the black cloud working its way over the mountains. Hey, at this point it doesn’t matter if you breathe the contaminated air at the butte. Hell, go ahead and let the kids make mud pies in that radiated soil while you’re at it.
From one of Boulder’s downtown rooftop patios. There are now so many to choose from, each with a slightly different view of melting Flatirons while enjoying cocktails, and, when the shit really starts to hit the fan, shots of Jägermeister. And best of all, you can tell everyone that you’ll pick up the tab knowing it won’t cost a penny, unless, of course, the Mayans were wrong.
From the International Space Station. Good luck with this one. Rumor has it that Richard Branson and Mick Jagger have already leased the whole thing for a private party.
• Hiding under your bed
• Hiding in your bed
• Just hiding
• Midway through so-awful-it’s-great karaoke at the Outback Saloon
• On TV