Now they tell us. On Dec. 21 the world was supposed to end according to the Mayan calendar. The day came and went, not just in Guatemala but in every time zone in the world, yet Dec. 22 dawned just the same.
It turns out that Dec. 21 was not the supposed to mark the end of the world, but the end of one hell of a big, big calendar that covered 5,200 years. Multiply that by 365 days and that should give you some idea of the size and heft of that thing. No wonder some of the calenders fell off the wall, probably ending the world for people under them.
None of us knew about this. The Guatemalans, those jokers, kept all this to themselves to get a big laugh when Dec. 21 came and went. Indeed they danced joyously atop Mayan pyramids, but it was to mark the start of a new 5,200 year calendar which now weighs almost nothing on an iPad.
Meanwhile scoffers asked, if you're in an underground bunker with a lifetime's supply of baked beans, how stupid do you feel now? You probably don't feel anything because you choked to death on your farts.
Smarter doomsayers went to France, which they said would be spared the apocalypse. Now why didn't the D.O.T. think of that?