Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," serving tea and scones to deities you've never even heard of since 2005! There's nothing quite like seeing the happy face of a bored deity who served before the domestication of grains, as she tears into a carb-and-butter-and-refined-sugar confection. Only too glad to be of assistance!
There's been a lot of talk about Doomsday lately. I'm not referring to the literary doomsday of another Dan Brown novel. I'm talking about the Aztec/Nostradamus "lights out in 2012" hoo hah.
People are going all berserk, reading the ancient Aztec calendar and seeing it come to an abrupt end on December 31, 2012, or some such. There's much speculation. What did the Aztecs know that we don't?
Who better to ask than an Aztec deity? It's a sunny day, so that means I've baked up some sweet corn muffins for Quetzalcoatl! He's been here before for interviews. Always a lovely God. Awesome outfit. So, please give a warm, wonderful "Gods Are Bored" welcome to Quetzalcoatl, Sacred Ancient Deity of the Aztec peoples!
Anne: O mighty deity of Mexico past! Howdy! In the interest of not having to spell your name 5o times (and getting it wrong 49 of them), let's just call this "Q" (for you) and "A" for me.
Quetzalcoatl: A splendid idea. How much more time do those muffins need to bake?
A: Less than ten minutes.
Q: Good. I'm hungry, and I don't have much time.
A: What, you're just going to eat and run? I was hoping for some entertaining myths.
Q: Cheeky European American earthling! I don't have time to sit and gab with you. I've got a Doomsday Machine to build.
A: So it's true! No splendid Mummer's Parade in Philly on January 1, 2013?
Q: Nope. Party's over. Gonna crack this planet like an egg and fry it for my breakfast.
A: Well, at least you're giving the hard-working dudes in South Philly a head's up that they won't need to spend thousands of dollars and thousands of hours costuming and practicing a strut for that year. But, you know I'm going to ask, O Deity. Why? Why would you destroy the earth?
Q: Mercy killing.
A: Come again?
Q: Have you checked the population estimates? Have you charted the changing temperatures at the poles? So how do you want it, Anne? Slow, or quick?
A: Emmmm..... I don't want it so soon ... emmm.... I'll only be ... not that old ... and the Heir and the Spare are still young ...
Q: Ever given any thought to what the world will be like when the Heir and the Spare are old? Trust me. They're better off going in a bang than a whimper.
A: Chill! Why don't you give us moderns a chance to curb population growth and slow global warming. Because I think we've made some progresssss..........
*Anne is silenced by Quetzalcoatl's disdainful sneer.*
A: Okay, so we're basically breeding to the point of stripping the globe bare. Which could make for some lean years down the road. But aren't you worried that your proposed doomsday event will make people hate you?
Q: It's better to be a hated deity than to be a curiosity in a museum, being dissected by snobby anthropologists who have no respect. I'm actually planning to allow the Mesoamerican anthropologists and archeologists to live the longest on Doomsday, just so they can plead to me for their miserable, atheist lives. Trust me, any museum outside Mexico that has Aztec artifacts will be the epicenter of my most particular wrath.
A: Is there any way you could possibly spare just a few people? Like, say, a nice lady who makes you Jiffy muffins with blueberry jam?
Q: You want to linger after Doomsday, with only sulfur vent worms as companions, be my guest.
A: Can't change your mind on this?
Q: It's written in stone. Unlike some other deities, whose names I'll not utter, I meant it when I set up an Armageddon. I haven't been wishy washy about it. When 2012 ends, so does life as you know it.
A: And where does that leave you? And all the other Earth deities, for that matter? Won't you be hoisted on your own petard? (I don't know what that means, exactly, but it sure sounds smart.)
Q: I'll get another job on some other planet. I mean, look at me! Wouldn't you hire me to be your deity?
A: Not really.
Q: Well, you live on this planet. There are other planets, with beings that treat their surroundings better. I'll shower a little maize on them, and they'll take me in.
A: This sounds so cold and harsh to me!
Q: That's a fine how-de-do from someone who watched her dad waste away in a nursing home! Snap! Lights out. You've got to go sometime. Might as well be quick about it.
A: Okay. I get the picture. But you're leaving me in a tough spot, Quetzalcoatl.
Q: How's that?
A: If all I have left is two years and a few months, I'd like to spend it sitting on a mountainside, watching the seasons change and reading good books. How am I going to convince my husband that we should just quit our jobs, sell everything, and move back to Bedford County?
Q: That's your problem. Give me my muffins!
Well, folks, there you are. The definitive word. Quetzalcoatl's gonna whup the Earth with a Big Bang on New Year's Eve, 2012. If you've been thinking about mending fences with people you've wronged, or who have wronged you, now might be a good time to set things right. Don't put that reconciliation off until 2013. You heard the God. It will be too late.
***For the next 10 months, "The Gods Are Bored" will not publish on Wednesdays. I have to go to night school, and I'm pretty sure blogging isn't in the curriculum.