Doomed

“We’re doomed.”

I’m a believer in Global Warming. I’ve always believed that we are one day going to destroy this planet. Not our planet. It doesn’t belong to us, it doesn’t belong to anyone. It just is. There is no divine plan, no ultimate quest for the Universe. It just is. We can believe anything we wish in this country, say practically anything (as long as it isn’t recorded and used out of context, written in a memo that isn’t to be seen by the general public but is, or a transcript isn’t left on a bus somewhere. Yer right, like I believe that the Minister in that one, takes the bus every day.)

There are God’s out there, and Demons and Devils and all manner of reincarnated beasties. There are vengeful Gods, malevolent Gods, peaceful loving Gods and a God who seems to have a handle on everything. There are believers in these Gods and there are non-believers. My question is, if these God’s and Devils and such like are out there doing their bit, why do they bother. I mean, is it making a difference? Does the Devil make us pollute the Ocean with our plastic, build gas guzzling vehicles? Is God sitting in on the debates in Parliaments around the World enthusing politicians to ban plastics and cardboard boxes. I tell you one thing I don’t think my Shredded Wheat would taste quite the same if it wasn’t wrapped.

I used to get magazines that are now wrapped in biodegradable covers made of potatoes. I’m waiting for some soft ecologist to say that it is wrong and that we could be feeding the starving children with those potatoes. I’ve stopped getting those magazines. Not because I want to feed a starving child but because the price is just too high for the paper copies. I’ve moved on to digital copies now. Although I do find it hard to tick the boxes on the personality quizzes on the screens. Luckily, I have discovered erasable pens!

I can’t forget whilst growing up, watching Dad’s Army. The undertaker and the butcher constantly at each other. The undertaker with his catch phrase, “We’re Doomed,” always raising a smile. Then the World of Cinema moved on and things for me became a little bit warped. Mainly due to the plethora of Egyptian Mummy movies. Cumulating in the best Mummy movie, in my mind, of all times, The Mummy Returns. I was delighted to see that the ‘doomed’ had been updated to “This place is cursed.” The final “This place is cursed” being mocked brilliantly by a fellow baddie with, “He ain’t happy without a good curse, this is cursed, that is cursed.” Well you have to smile, but there are those that believe.

Me?

I believe we’re done for. Really, I do. I see it all around me and yet I just let it go. I recycle, I don’t drop litter and I clear up after my dog. That one is a real pet hate of mine. As a dog walker I go out into wood and onto fields and it’s not ok just to leave poop just because it’s not on a pavement. Biodegradable or not, it’s a bloody disgrace. Ok whinge over.

What gets me is the natural progression of things. I often have discussions with Mark on all sorts of subject. I will add that his meeting up with fellow veterans doesn’t improve his conversation skills. Sunday morning whilst enjoying a peaceful coffee…

Interlude: Let me destroy the picture you have in your head. That’s it, I’ll just rub it out with the eraser on the end of a gigantic pencil and start again. Sitting enjoying coffee on Sunday entails a dog with her hind legs crossed because she refuses to poop in the garden and Mark and I playing Chicken as to which one of us will give in first and take her out. I usually give in. When his back is better I won’t be so lenient. Mark has coffee whilst sat on his settee which has an indestructible wall of computers around it in various stages of repair or whirring madly whilst they do something called updates. I am surrounded by notebooks and dog blankets and a lap top. Despite all this we always manage to have a conversation.

So, whilst drinking our coffee, my third his first, an Ambulance goes by with lights and sirens.

“Another house for Sale.” Mark quips.

“What?!?”

I couldn’t believe he had said it.

“Military humour” he returned.

Our conversation after the shock had worn off, got on to Global Warming and Dinosaurs, which I am convinced are prehistoric chickens, and Mark is convinced are just cool and should be brought back to life. I mean you can’t possibly have a conversation on Global Warming without talking Dinosaurs.

For those that are aware, I know that there was 60 million years between the two periods and that Dinosaurs had outstayed their welcome before the Earth caught a cold.

My theory, and it’s a good one, is that we are irritating little nits on the back of a large intelligent spherical ball of dirt. Every now and again it gets really pissed off and decides to give itself a good groom. After all, if you leave a dog ungroomed, don’t deflea it, or worm it, it can get pretty manky.

The Dinosaurs got too big for their boots and the Earth made the decision to scratch and get rid of them. It went a bit too far with the natural antibiotics and was run down, causing it to catch a cold. The Earth looks after itself and somewhere along its journey through the Universe it has manged to pick up some rather strange bugs, namely, us! We are the latest Dinosaurs. We crawl all over the Earths back, dig in, suck up, rearrange and do whatever we want. (note I resisted the urge to swear there)

The Earth went to a groomer and got a de-dinosaur clean up and got rid of the pesky things, but as with all things, you can never guarantee that it will be 100% successful and the groomer left behind a few remnants. Mainly Chickens, you with never convince me otherwise. Now I’m not saying we will grow to the size of dinosaurs but we certainly are spreading out, and sooner or later the Earth is going to get rid of us. Every time it scratched there is an Earth Quack or a Tsunami or a Flood, which kills off some of the population. It’s inevitable that one day the Earth will have to destroy us all. We are just giving it a helping hand by being bloody stupid and destroying the environment we live in whilst we are here.

I believe in the God’s, after all there are too many of them out there, so one of them must be real’ish. All I want to know is where do they fit in.

Are they the groomers?. Are they just waiting with their scissors to give the Earth a good trim? Is the Devil an Earth vet, really the good guy that advises the Earth to destroy as many of us as it can, to give the Earth an easier life? Whichever it is, it seems to be working.

I wonder if every time a person dies, the God and the Devil sit back with their coffee and say, that’s one less for us to worry about.

“We’re doomed I tell ya, doomed.”

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