Apocalypse! posts around the blogosphere:
Rainy Day Ramblings: Imitations by Heather Hilderbrand
Love of Books: The Way We Fall by Megan Crewe
Those of you who have been with The Nocturnal Library from the start will likely remember Tim Marquitz and his very direct, often hilarious posts. Tim has been a friend of this blog from the very first day and I'd like to think I've helped him as much as he's helped me, although that's probably not true at all. When I started planning Apocalypse!, I knew I could count on him to share his thoughts with us. So without further ado:
Once Upon a Time
Once upon a time…boom! The end.
Is that what you want out of the Apocalypse? Well, too bad because that’s not how it’s gonna go down. There’ll be none of this ‘one day we’re here, the next we’re not’ crap. No, the end will be slow and painful and completely lacking in cool catch phrases.
And while I realize all the Walking Dead fans are praying for a zombie uprising so they can use their shiny new wrist-bayonets and get into Daryl’s quiver, that’s not how it’s gonna happen either. We’re not gonna meet our extinction by cannibal bikers or hordes of reanimated corpses or sociopathic warlords bent on caffeinated destruction. There won’t be some new order of super robots that kill us in our sleep or secret cabal that overtakes our political system overnight. Even more unfortunately, there won’t be any rabid undead weasels, mutant koalas, or even cute little E.T.s out for a drunken weekend probing.
No, it’s pretty much been established…we’re gonna die of dumb.
Sadly, we’re already infected. The sickness is all around us, a plague of murderous proportion squeezed into 140 characters. Just look at network television. The fact that Jersey Shore survived six seasons while the Dresden Files barely managed one is proof the Dumbocalypse is upon us. Come on: Justin Beiber, Paris Hilton, Amanda Bynes. Need I say more?
No. I’m sorry to say the days of wit and wisdom are already behind us, and we’re swirling down the drain like a tofu turd. Common sense has gone the way of Elvis and the Twinkie, and the odds of us escaping life without a serious case of Dumbentia are miniscule, at best. Intellect has struck a ‘berg and we’re slowly sinking to a soundtrack of Dubstep and Gangnam Style, rhythmic squeaks and squeals playing us out on the maiden voyage of Titanic Mother Earth.
De-evolution is the order of the day, the second coming of Neanderthalism. We’ll sit back and grunt at one another and wave our clubs about to signal our likes, sharing our dinners on cave walls and bathroom stalls like Yahoos on a binge. In the end, we’ll build a monument to the black box gods and bemoan the coming of the blue screen behemoth that stole our last thoughts with deviant porn and Google fu. Our only hope is that one of these asteroids hurtling by in space takes pity on us and changes course.
Or maybe there will be zombies. What the hell do I know?
Author bio:Raised on a diet of Heavy Metal and bad intentions, Tim Marquitz has always been interested in writing, but it wasn't until about 1995 the urge became a compulsion. However, it would be many years later before the ability matched the interest. Fortunately, the two have reconciled...mostly.
Writing a mix of the dark perverse, the horrific, and the tragic, tinged with sarcasm and biting humor, he looks to leave a gaping wound in the minds of his readers like his inspirations: Clive Barker, Jim Butcher, and Stephen King.
A former grave digger, bouncer, and dedicated metalhead, Tim is a huge fan of Mixed Martial Arts, and fighting in general.
He lives in Texas with his beautiful wife and daughter.
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