Today was the apocalypse...again. This time, the doomsday warnings came dressed as jaguars, rather than sporting yarmulkes, because the end of the world is nothing if not multicultural.
Yet, while the earth still turns, heedless of the now two times it was supposed to keel over and call it quits (third time's the charm?), and the tug of time draws us ever forward despite the deep grooves our kicking heels have left in the floor behind us, my inner philosopher and hobby aphorist is compelled to reflect sagely that every day is the end of the world as we know it.
Deep, man.
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