So last night I went outside to check out the blood moon, which is both a rare celestial event and what I will call my future heavy metal album. It was pretty cool!
I guess that oversells it a bit. Unless you’re really into astronomy, it was more the kind of thing you look up at and say, “huh, that’s neat” before immediately forgetting what you just looked at. In any case, it was a beautiful night so we stayed outside for a bit. Apart from last Monday, I’ve spent an awful lot of time lately locked in my writing cage working on the book. Which is fine, of course. That’s part of the gig. But being out for a while and getting a little taste of early fall was a good decision.
For better or worse it does not seem that the most dire of blood moon prophecies came to pass, at least not yet. Prophesying is an interesting game to me. It reminds me of a friend I have who, while watching baseball games, loves to call out when someone’s about to hit a home run. I have no idea how many times he’s been wrong (almost all of them) but I know he’s been right occasionally. Which is inevitable because sometimes dudes hit home runs. And–boy howdy–does he let everyone know when he gets it right. I should have countered every one of those predictions with my own, saying that it would be a strikeout instead. Or, even better, a pop fly to left field or grounder to shortstop. I’d still be right some of the time even by choosing a less likely event, and then I could have declared myself a soothsayer and opened up shop as an oracle. Good money in the oracle game, I bet.
Modern prophesying seems similar in some ways. There’s a whole Wikipedia page of failed end of the world predictions, and those are just ones we know about. Remember how the world was gonna end on 12/21/2012? Right. My personal favorite is Harold Camping, who got it wrong like half a dozen times. He was no quitter though! He kept trying! Ultimately, kind of like predicting home runs, if you do eventually get it right, you’re gonna look pretty smart I guess.
To declare that you have deciphered the keys to the cosmos and know–unequivocally–when the world as we know it will cease to be…that takes a spectacular amount of confidence. Yeah, I get that hubris is probably the better descriptor at that point, but I admire the chutzpah even as I don’t understand it. Also, chutzpah is a great word. I should use more Yiddish around here. There are lots of great Yiddish words.
I’m not saying I was hoping for the apocalypse to kickoff. I mean, it sounds pretty terrible. But I suppose on some level I was holding out hope that it would be something like getting a snow day as a kid where I could get away with not having done my homework because school got canceled. All of this is to say, with the earth still turning as of now, Falcon Guides will still be expecting me to deliver the book manuscript so I should get back to work.