Apocalypse LIVE!!
It's the end of the world, and we're watching television.
We're watching television at a bar called "Rosies".
And Rosie is serving drinks while President Bush addresses the nation:
"(pause) our brave troops (pause) are violently, valienly (long pause) engaging in direct combat with these (pause) big bugs (pause). Unfortunately (pause) our weapons are proving inefficient (pause) and unproductive (pause) in the fight for our defense (pause). We therefore advise (pause) that you find, or make use of (pause) underground shelters. After consulting with my generals (pause) it has been determined (pause) that tactical (pause) nucular detonations (pause) placed within our borders (pause) may be necessary to assure the survival of the united states."
Just then everyone in a flannel (as in, not me) erupts into a roar of questions and declarations. People think we should nuke Canada instead. Others see it as a sign of the biblical end times. One swears there is a passage in the bible explaining how ants will be the vessel of God's Wrath.
"How come they're not hitting here?" Asks Rosie, a thin wrinkly woman who could bring down a charging beast. The question is heard but lost in the roaring speculation.
For some reason, the question pulls my eyes to the television, which has almost responded on cue with a news map of the Ants' path of destruction.
"How come they're not hitting here?" Rosie says again.
And just then all the arrows coalesce. Purpose emerges.
"I said how come--"
"Because they're foraging." I call back.
The noise stops. The news repeats Bush's speech.
"What?" Says Rosie. Everyone else stares, waiting for the explanation.
"Ants send scouts for food. Those scouts tell the other ants where to go. They're not here because there's not enough to eat."
The crowd thinks this over.
"I tell you what I think it is. I think it's the second horseman."
"Ants are not a pestilence."
"Well what you think these are, nice neighbors?"
The crowd goes back to making noise, and I notice the TV keeps pointing south. Not just south. And they're all headed for the same place. The eventual frantic absence is ignored.
We're watching television at a bar called "Rosies".
And Rosie is serving drinks while President Bush addresses the nation:
"(pause) our brave troops (pause) are violently, valienly (long pause) engaging in direct combat with these (pause) big bugs (pause). Unfortunately (pause) our weapons are proving inefficient (pause) and unproductive (pause) in the fight for our defense (pause). We therefore advise (pause) that you find, or make use of (pause) underground shelters. After consulting with my generals (pause) it has been determined (pause) that tactical (pause) nucular detonations (pause) placed within our borders (pause) may be necessary to assure the survival of the united states."
Just then everyone in a flannel (as in, not me) erupts into a roar of questions and declarations. People think we should nuke Canada instead. Others see it as a sign of the biblical end times. One swears there is a passage in the bible explaining how ants will be the vessel of God's Wrath.
"How come they're not hitting here?" Asks Rosie, a thin wrinkly woman who could bring down a charging beast. The question is heard but lost in the roaring speculation.
For some reason, the question pulls my eyes to the television, which has almost responded on cue with a news map of the Ants' path of destruction.
"How come they're not hitting here?" Rosie says again.
And just then all the arrows coalesce. Purpose emerges.
"I said how come--"
"Because they're foraging." I call back.
The noise stops. The news repeats Bush's speech.
"What?" Says Rosie. Everyone else stares, waiting for the explanation.
"Ants send scouts for food. Those scouts tell the other ants where to go. They're not here because there's not enough to eat."
The crowd thinks this over.
"I tell you what I think it is. I think it's the second horseman."
"Ants are not a pestilence."
"Well what you think these are, nice neighbors?"
The crowd goes back to making noise, and I notice the TV keeps pointing south. Not just south. And they're all headed for the same place. The eventual frantic absence is ignored.
posted by Max Orkin at 5:07 AM
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