Twenty years ago, I read a book called Fingerprints of the Gods, which left an indelible impression on me. Author Graham Hancock made a compelling case for the existence of advanced ancient civilizations. He also tapped into the Mayan culture, the bizarre accuracy of their calendar, and their unnerving tendency to predict ice ages and global catastrophes. It is here I first read the date: December 21, 2012. Still a teenager, I decided that I'd damn make sure I live a life well lived before then, and since I had two decades to do it, I wasn't overly concerned. And here we are, at the Week at the End of the World.
Of course, the world's foremost Mayan scholars have frustratingly shrugged their collective shoulders, because the Mayan Armageddon is based on a gross misunderstanding running full speed into media hype and mindblowing misinterpretation. In other words, I intend to sleep late on Saturday morning, December 22.