Rescued Cards Launch Party
The world will end on Friday, Dec. 21, 2012. How do I know? Because I heard it on cable TV one night when I was half-asleep. Not good enough? Well, I put my journalistic know-how to work and researched the alarming claim, and it was backed up by selected bits of a Wikipedia page. That’s how I know.
Some “scientists” and “scholars” say it isn’t true. Charlatans. Denialists. They simply can’t cope with the reality that the end is just around the corner.
Anyone who knows anything about the Mesoamerican Long Count calendar knows that Dec. 21 marks the end of the Fourth World, and that the end of the world is always caused by a cataclysmic event, be it a sudden emergence of a black hole that sucks us into nothingness, an alien invasion, a massive comet that strikes Earth and leads to total and immediate extinction of species or a conjunction of planets, which I interpret as meaning a “collision” of planets—probably all of them. Including Nibiru. Duh.
I tried, unsuccessfully, to convince my naysaying publisher to cancel the Best of San Diego issue this year. I mean, what’s the point? But since he insists on carrying on with this charade of an existence, I figured I’d make the best of it by having my writers craft essays about how they’ll spend a perfect day in San Diego County. They seemed convinced by my passionate foretelling of The End, although I heard some snickering as I walked out of the meeting. It was probably Dave Maass telling one of his Peter Holslin jokes as a way of lightening what was, understandably, a mood of emptiness and despair.
As you’ll see in the 10 essays that follow, CityBeat’s writers are taking this very seriously. Yet, three of them—Anders Wright, Kinsee Morlan and Ryan Bradford—have obviously deluded themselves into thinking they can survive the Apocalypse. Poor fools. I worry about them the most.
As usual, we also report the results of the annual Best of San Diego Readers Poll. For the winners, it’s a final hurrah before we’re all obliterated into dust. Congratulations, I guess.
Anyway, please use the information in the poll results and the essays as a bucket list of sorts. Wring all the joy and fun out of this region that you can. Get the most out of its restaurants, bars, parks and shops. You have 65 days left, and then: kaput. Godspeed, brave citizens.
—David Rolland
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