By JT Pearson
copyright Joseph Pearson 2013
All things human hang by a slender thread; and that which seemed to stand strong suddenly falls and sinks in ruins.
- PUBLIUS OVIDIUS NASO – ROMAN POET -17 AD
Security is a kind of death.
- TENNESSEE WILLIAMS – 2oth CENTURY AMERICAN PLAYWRITE
The end of the planet sucks balls.
- Lucas – TEENAGE SLACKER – THE PRESENT
I knew the so-called experts were lying to us. Everyone could see something strange was happening. The moon looked bigger in the sky every week. At first our world leaders refused to even address it, figuring they could just postpone dealing with our questions until they had some answers but that could only last so long. Then the spokespeople for industrialized nations furthered stall tactics by denying that there was anything unusual going on, politicians both conservative and liberal coming on TV and telling us that what we were dealing with was global mass hysteria – that we’d all convinced each other that there was something strange going on with the moon. Some of the older people here in the United States just chose to believe President Myer instead of thinking for themselves, trusting the soothing words that put them at ease, words that dripped from his lips like morphine from an IV, but the young people knew better. They weren’t so ready to trust. Finally, after months had passed, a spokesman for NASA addressed the world and came clean, confirming that it was true. The moon was getting increasingly closer to the earth. I just turned and looked at Grandma Kay after the broadcast. I didn’t have the heart to say it, that I was right all along. The weirdest thing about the whole night was that she didn’t even seem like she was worried for herself. Just worried about me. She asked me to stay home for a night and have dinner with her but I looked up my friend Hector and we shot heroin under the bridge. I’d been sober for a year and a half. I mean seriously, what’s the use anymore?