The End of the World?

Before you start making fun of this little fellah with the shocked expression, just read on and view the pictures and you will understand why he has reason to go beady-eyed and flat-eared! In fact, he's probably even shitted himself from fright but there's no way of knowing that from the photo. I'm sure he can't believe he's been spared so far, given that the kids haven't, and he'll be wondering what his next move should be if he is to stand any chance of survival in a dying crumbling world. You might think why bother? If the world is decaying and dying after some apocalyptic catastrophe, why not just lie down and die with it? Why string it out and struggle on in an increasingly hostile environment? Well maybe he won't bother. Maybe, unable to flush himself down the toilet, he'll ransack the family medicine cupboard, take an overdose and exit quietly.

The reality is that it's odds on that one day we, homo sapiens (hahah), will have screwed up so badly that we will finally have rendered our planet incapable of supporting us and that it will have gone so far down the path of non-viability that it will just implode on us, as it were, and put in motion our slow but sure eradication as a species from this Earth that we have so scarred with our unholy activities. This is assuming of course that we have not already wiped ourselves out by some mad mutually destructive orgy of violence. I'm here essentially referring to a slower process of decline and destruction that comes about by tampering with the forces of nature that have nurtured and sustained all animal and plant life, including us unholy malefactors, for millions of years.

It is surely obvious to all thinking men and women that the only creature on this planet which does not exist in harmony with its environment is mankind. Only humans feel the need to alter their surroundings, and massively so, and to create an artificial habitat that satisfies their 'creature comforts'. Only humans seem ill-adapted to their world. All other creatures appear to be pefectly adapted to their environment, living in harmony with nature and at one with it. Only mankind, through some mysterious course of evolution, has seen fit to develop body coverings that not only protect him in practical terms from the weather but apparently have become indispensable to preserve his modesty, i.e. hide his intimate parts, from the gaze of his fellow men. After all, in many tropical countries where temperatures are often asphyxiatingly high, the most comfortable condition is nudity, but of course this is no longer an option (at least not in public), as our bits and pieces, mostly down below, would then be on view to others. The fact that we have the same bits and pieces as everyone else does not seem to carry any weight. The other person, except of course in an intimate relationship and behind closed doors, must not see our naughty parts because, well, they may not have naughty parts and be shocked to see that we have!

Come to think of it, our horrified little pussy above may have seen these two speciments in the altogether and been traumatised for life! Before you know it, he too will be rushing off to get himself some fig leaves to cover his naughty bits. Though me may have to be content with sycamore leaves, fig-trees being rather thin on the ground in this part of the world. Or better still, some modern equivalent of leaves that's reusable and long-lasting.

Anyway, I digress, and we must get back to the point of this sorry tale. And one hell of a sorry tale it is! In fact, speaking of hell, will our much-deserved end be as portrayed in the last of our images here? Are we destined to roast in one vast fiery inferno and our unhallowed ashes blown to the four corners of the planet in preparation for a brave new world free of mankind and his destructive ways? Will our greenhouse gases and the rest of our pollutants stoke the flames of our self-annihilation and rid the long-suffering Earth of us and our pestilential ways? If this is to be our fate, then we will have more than earned it. We will not be able to plead innocence or perhaps even beg forgiveness. Our end will relieve the planet of a human plague that has over-exploited and criminally abused its resources for long enough and that has caused untold harm to the other animals that share this planet, to the plant life, to the land, seas, and atmosphere that make up Mother Earth. Our mass death will not be mourned, our passing will not be lamented. Quite the contrary, it will finally be 'good riddance!' to the most destructive creature ever known on this planet... Us! Cheerful chappie, aren't I?

Are these the searing flames that will finally cleanse the

Earth of mankind and his works and create a new world

where the balance of nature has been restored?

Or am I one sick individual who needs

psychiatric treatment?!

The Old Man by the Sea

The old man would shuffle down to the seafront most days and sit on a low parapet overlooking the beach, staring out to sea for hours on end, hardly stirring. He was always on his own and it was always in the afternoon, and he would often stay there until the sun began to dip below the horizon and the light to fade. He wore a broad-brimmed panama hat to shade him from the glare of the sun and he had a small bag with him containing food and drink to sustain him during his lonely vigil. He would sit there on the beach, watching the tide slowly coming in, the waves breaking on the shore, and the gulls cart-wheeling over the water.

Today was like any other day. The sun beat down relentlessly and the sea sparkled and heaved, driven by a strong wind. The rush and surge of the sea spoke directly to his inner soul and seemed to promise welcome release from the heavy burden of old age. It beckoned to him and its freshening spray turned to a fine mist on the arms of the breeze. The old man saw and felt all this and let out a deep sigh.

The salty sea breeze reached out to him and suddenly caught the sigh, as though snatching the breath of life from the old man, and blew it over the foamy waters.

The head of the old man slumped onto his chest and he rolled forward, falling on his side onto the sand with a dull thud. He stayed there unmoving and his hat slipped off his head and was propelled by the wind across the hot sand and into the feet of a group of boys playing ball nearby. One of them gathered it up and, recognising it as the old man’s hat, ran towards him, but then suddenly stopped short, and stared. The old man continued lying on his side in the sand, motionless and peaceful as though asleep.

The boy looked round at his playmates who were calling to him to get back to the game and the boy dropped the hat beside the old man and started running back, too afraid to nudge the lying figure. The old man’s hat was caught by the wind again and rolled across the beach and the breeze cast it into the sea where it bobbed about on the waves.

The old man did not stir and did not seem to care about anything. He was past caring now and at peace with the world. This day had brought welcome release and... had not been like any other day.