Thank God, Gore and Google for the Internet. Where else to learn it’s not too early to make plans for the Mayan Apocalypse? That’s the day the Earth flips its Poles, implodes, and/or collides with the wandering Planet X. It’s less than nine months away. (December 21. Rain Date: Dec 27)
How do we know this? Long dead Mayan end of days calendar says so. The latest info in the Blogo-weirdosphere is many New Agers have decided to grab a UFO off the planet when the hammer falls. Said saucers will be leaving from a magical mystery mountain in France.
Why France? Is it because Extraterrestrials know what most Earthlings already know --the French won’t resist them? Is it because SNL was right-- the Coneheads really are from France?
Nope. It’s because France is home to Pic de BugarachMountain, Spook Central for the upcoming weirdness. It’s a sacred place with its own Chakra and, some say, underground aliens. Reports claim the Nazis took an interest, and then Mossad.
Now it seems Pic de Bugarach can’t handle the business. The early arrivals—spotted cooking out, sightseeing, and mountain climbing naked —have already overstressed the infrastructure. By December, some travel and lunacy experts predict up to 100,000 Wackstronauts will hit the new spaceport. No word yet if Geraldo, Katy Couric or the Jersey Shore funsters have booked passage, but you know the media will be there.
All this has replaced “Will Jennifer Anniston ever get that long overdue Oscar®?” as my Number One Worry. Mostly I worry the US is missing out.
If France can’t handle it, why shouldn’t America try to grab the apocalyptic tourist dollar? All we’ve got currently is a few “End of the World” white sales, a new “Words that Rhyme with Apocalypse” Jeopardy category, and an App that enables all living Kardashians to remarry and divorce by December.
Come on America, get with it. For starters, how about firing up the idle space shuttle pads at the Kennedy Space Center? Florida can use the tourist trade, and then we can clean up financially by lobbing true believers into Space. You’re welcome.


Salon.com
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