By Esther Cepeda
If you’re into dark humor, you’re really enjoying the fantasy and frivolity associated with the final countdown to the so-called Mayan Doomsday.
Though every credible news agency has emphasized that there’s really no merit to the belief that the world will end on 12/21/12, it’s pretty much irresistible to wonder what the end of the world would really be like — in the pettiest possible terms.
Countless numbers have spent at least a moment pondering the dreaded meeting they’ll miss at work if the world does comes to a crushing end. How many Friday afternoon dental appointments are we offhandedly joking about never having to face?
There won’t be much joking by those truly scared about “the end,” it must be noted. According to a Reuters/Ipsos Global Public Affairs poll released in May, nearly 15 percent of people worldwide believe the world will end during their lifetime and 10 percent think the Mayan calendar could signify it will happen in 2012.
The rest of us just like entertaining the notion of a divine something hitting the reset button.
I don’t wish for the end of life as we know it. But can’t you bring yourself to imagine the sweet satisfaction that would come with knowing your pet peeve would not survive the apocalypse?
Josh Ozersky, an award-winning food writer, recently penned a going-viral column for Time about his love for and exhaustion with bacon. Though Ozersky has rhapsodized about it on TV, eaten it every day and “even written a poem about it,” he’s wondering “Why Won’t Bacon Go Away?”
Hear, hear — I’m all baconed out, too. Shortly after writing about the cult of bacon gum, I was sucked into a greasy underworld of marbled trinkets and outlandish foodstuffs befitting a, well, cult leader.
Ozersky writes about “United States of Bacon,” an upcoming TV show: “As far as I can tell from the teaser, the show is so grossly formulaic that it almost seems like a parody: a portly, spiky-haired host overemotes into the camera about ‘the orgasmic sense of bacon,’ sings silly bacon songs, and otherwise checks off every trope of oaf-pandering, lowest-common-denominator programming you can think of. I am embarrassed to say that I am looking forward to it.”
I’d like to think Ozersky would have some peace in the afterlife knowing that, post-apocalypse, bacon worship was just as dead as he was.
Me? I have a lot of serious and petty complaints about society, but I believe end-times require a dose of levity. So if it’s all over come Friday, I’ll die happy knowing that the cupcake culture will go down with all of mankind.
Yes, the fetishization and pornification of cupcakes need to end, and Dec. 21 wouldn’t be a day too soon. The countless and endlessly fussy variations on what amounts to a single serving of cake and frosting are beyond annoying, as is the fact that you can’t get away from them.
Whether in your face at the grocery store, idolatrized in pricey, high-end shops, sold out of cutely colored food trucks or forced down your throat as a team-building exercise at work (“Let’s have a cupcake decorating contest!”), cupcake madness has got to end.
Sure, real doomsday would be a bummer. But look on the bright side: If you could embrace the uncertainly without fear, your reward could be bacon- and cupcake-free nothingness.
Esther Cepeda is a columnist wit the Washington Post Writers Group.