I’m circling this week’s thematic quarry with ninja-like wiliness. (Okay, “ninja-like” is a stretch. I’m about as close to being a ninja as Bob Johnson is to being Public Safety Commissioner. Bob Johnson is a dog. To say he’s my dog would be presumptuous. It is Bob Johnson’s world. The rest of us are just here to provide dog chow, follow the debris trail, and fill in the holes in the yard.)

Not only is this my first post for the “new and improved” B2L2, it’s my last post before the end of the world, which everyone knows is tomorrow, May 21, at 6 PM. Check local listings.

Before I get to the end of the world (I read about it on the Internet, so it must be true), a few words on the name change.

I was quoted rather extensively in Derek Bridges’ May 15 post (“On our name change”). It’s great to be quoted. I hope you are quoted soon, because it’s a feeling like no other, especially when your quote is some bit of deadline-fueled gibberish about Cheerios.

New and improved? Not bloody likely! You can’t improve on perfection.

B2L2 is the same barkbugsleavesandlizards thingy we’ve all come to know and love. We cover the waterfront, baby, so wear your boots and a rain slicker. (I recommend the yellow rain slicker with the peaked hood. I usually associate this raincoat with the word “nor’easter.” Cheap sunglasses and a tasty beverage will also come in handy.)

There are very few rules here at B2L2. Rule Number One is don’t be a jerk. You can be a jerk on the rest of them thar Internets. Self-indulgent silliness, sarcasm, parody, irony and sincerity are fine. (Thank goodness for our contributors who write sincerely about serious issues. As one of the terminally glib, I salute their dedication to, you know, important junk.)

Rule Number Two is … Well, I can’t think of any more rules. At one time I think I was encouraged to keep the length of my posts around 1,000 words. (I start looking for a place to bail out around 700 words, but sometimes you just have to ride that mule into the ground, if you know what I mean. If there’s going to be a train wreck, let’s make it a big one. And you can quote me on that.)

So what, exactly, is B2L2? Why, near as I can make out, it’s a place where we can all bask in the golden light of unrestricted information exchange. My name is Sunshine, and I will be your guide.

In the gray, totalitarian future, people will not be allowed to have this much fun.

Aw, man.

I forgot.

There’s no future.

The world ends tomorrow, Saturday, May 21. That’s right. Tomorrow.

Upon receiving this unrestricted information, I thought, “Well, it’s about dang time!”

I mean, we’ve had all the preliminary wars, plagues, floods, famines, earthquakes, hurricanes and tornados we really need, right? That nonsense has been dragging on far too long.

Yep, it’s about time for the apocalypse. Don’t think of it as an extinction event. That’s depressing. Think of it as a new reality series called Extreme Makeover: Earth. Isn’t that better? Accept the Gold Badge of Sunshine. Now get outta here.

Well, that’s that, I guess. Pretty soon we’ll all be space dust.

Regrets?

I wish I’d been a better basketball player. Not taller, necessarily. I just wish I’d had better ball-handling skills. (I have many more sports-related regrets, but time is short. The end is near.)

I wish I’d written and directed that movie I always wanted to make, the one starring me.

I wish I’d learned some math and science. To be honest, making sentences is the only thing I know how to do with any proficiency. Had I learned math and science, I might have been able to invent something useful, like a phone app that kills drivers using phone apps.

I wish I’d bought more groceries the other day, because I’m starving and there’s no food in the house. Blast! (There’s no way I can deal with the end of the world on an empty stomach. That is so not gonna happen.)

At least the world isn’t going to end during football season.

That would be messed up.
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John Hicks, seen from above, is an unremarkable hat-shaped object.

About the Author

John Hicks

Havin' a wild weekend.

John Hicks lives outside the city limits, where eagles dare.

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