The sun also ceases to rise

3 September 2011

Good evening beloved lovelies.

After our adventure in Baltimore yesterday, GF and I decided to sit around like sloths this Saturday, snacking and watching Sleepless in Seattle. While GF napped earlier, I played what has been called the best video game of all time, Chrono Trigger. So far, I agree with the praise bestowed upon the game.

As the sun set in the distance, GF awoke and we talked of dinner and plans for the evening. We had the idea to see if Netflix for the Wii had Disney Channel series Good Luck Charlie and Phineas and Ferb. While looking, we found a National Geographic documentary on Egypt.

During the documentary, the narrator describes the ancient Egyptian worship of the sun, praying each night the sun would raise from its death in the west to bring life again the next day.

What if it did not?

What if the sun simply did not rise? I have done no research (as usual), but I am sure someone has written in length about what would happen if the sun simply stopped rising.

I imagine (and I’m no scientist) that life on Earth would cease to exist. The end of civilization, humanity and life on this planet fascinates me.

I have a perhaps disturbing fascination with thinking about a worldwide cataclysm that would wipe us from memory and history – an event that would render everything we have ever accomplished completely null and void.

I think about the possibility of a super virus that is absolutely unstoppable. I think about a global crisis of money, food and water that causes the last war. I think about an army of evil automatons killing us all – slowly at first through “freak accidents” like toasters falling into bathtubs or vacuum cleaners sucking off faces. I think about the sun setting one final time.

I do not know why exactly, but I find comfort in the thought that one day, none of us will exist anymore. Everything we love, know and do will be nothing. Our names and actions will be as if they never happened. I find supreme happiness and contentment remembering how insignificant I am.

Streams of consciousness

10 August 2011

I drink copious amounts of beverages. I drink Mountain Dew, Coke Zero (thanks to a former intern who turned me on to it), water, tea, coffee and more throughout the day.

I pee. Frequently.

Today, I went to pee and for some reason (you can probably guess the reason) I utilized a stall (not the sweet skateboarding move) rather than a urinal in the bathroom for male-identified people at my office. While I was in there, someone entered another stall.

Within 13 seconds, the unidentified person and I were urinating concurrently (literally, “with similar streams” in the Latin). I spent the next 34 seconds stifling a chuckle.

The person left the stall, turned on the water in the sink (I couldn’t see if they actually washed their hands), turned off the water in the sink, grabbed paper towels, crumpled them and exited the bathroom.

For a few brief moments, our streams were simultaneous, our flows one chorus ringing in the frequently churning waters of the loo lake.

It was synchronici-pee.