ANDRIY LOMAKIN

The apocalypse was slated for 21.12.2012. On that day I won a bet – a bottle of pretty good cognac. One of my friends, along with a million other people, believed that in line with ancient Mayan predictions, on that day every living thing on earth would cease to exist. The most discussed variant predicted a wonderful finale – dissolving into the universe. A planet with the romantic name of Nibir would transform humanity into cosmic dust. A fairy death! And sending oneself off onto the final path appeared a very worthwhile thing to do. Preparation for the final catastrophe was more like a celebration than a tragedy. Adverts for goods and services encouraged people to cut loose with the whole shebang – eat, drink, be merry, buy cars and holidays on paradise islands. At the same time the Television filled the airwaves with awful variants and details of the death of the planet. Nature was to blame for practically every possible misfortune – collision with a meteorite, volcanic eruptions, tsunamis, deadly viruses. As a last resort, an army of aliens. In all these scenarios humankind successfully dodged any responsibility for the brutality with which for centuries it has deliberately destroyed both itself and the planet. The irrational behaviour of homo sapiens can be compared to a cancerous tumour, devouring its environment and replicating with unbelievable speed. Looking on this day into the ‘black box’, one can be sure that our civilization is worthy only of being destroyed by any means.