You know what they say about a man with a big footprint...

Lords a leaping! I have recently discovered that over-consumption is a much bigger threat then ever-I-imagined. I have come upon a website which allows you to calculate your ecological footprint. This is the amount of land required to support you and your consumer lifestyle.

Try it here!

Apparently!, I have an ecological footprint of 610 hectares and it would take 340 planets to support 7 billion other earthlings who lived like me. Goodness gracious, and to think of all the efforts I have made! All seventeen zepellins in my fleet run on biodiesel! That wasn't a cheap conversion. And when the temperature is over 30 degrees, I only air-condition the east wing of my home. Whenever I venture into the west-wing for snooker or to see a cock-fight, I must think back to my days in 'nam and remind myself of what truly sweltering heat is so that I don't faint away like a woman watching fisticuffs.

Anyhoo, my point is that I'm sure most people use more food and energy than I do (afterally I am a man of modest needs), so I'm not even sure how the planet is hanging together even now, let alone once the Chinese all get up to steam economically. But yes, so, my point is, turn down the air-conditioners, put a full bottle of water in your toilet tank, eat local produce; we're gonna all have to pitch in if we don't want to run out of hectares in a hurry.

The Monster Engine

The following is not so much a sign of the apocalypse as a visualization of the apocalypse. Everyone knows that young children are much more in touch with the nether realms that border our own -- witness their fear of monsters in closets and under the bed. During the Apocalypse the paper-thin boundaries between our own world and these terrifying planes will be shredded like wet paper towel and harrowing horrendous beings will tumble forth, piling up on our street corners like mounds of living, growling, clawing garbage.

Now a man named Dave Devry has put his considerable artistic skill to work helping us to understand what this will actually look like. He has taken the prophetic and scientifically accurate drawings of monsters of which all young children are capable and added to them the shading and texture which will become manifest when these bizarre and incorporeal being substantiate themselves within our world!

Proceed with caution, you are about to experience THE MONSTER ENGINE!





thanks to memepool and wartank!

Soooooo.....

So, right then. Yesterday afternoon I received a phone call from Matthew Lie - Paehlke, who it turns out was entirely unapocalypsized. In fact, it turns out that pretty much everyone remains unapocalyptified. I was frustrated to learn that my information had been inaccurate. Although I was relieved to know I would be able to go out and get fresh vegetables. My cellar was all out of white asparagus.

It took me pretty much the entire night to remove the anti-demon spells and hexes which I had placed on the various blast doors and airlocks between myself and the ground floor of my abode. But now I'm here, standing upon the grassy green surface of our lovely and entirely unapocalated planet. So, uh, I guess I'll get back to work.

Some of my more diligent readers, may be beginning to suspect they see a certain trend developing, they might recall other instances in which I have retreated ten stories beneath the earth only to return a week later to find things continuing unabated. These readers may be wondering if I have a tendency to "call wolf."

To these readers I say,
"Would you like to trade places with me?!?"
"Would you like to feel the weight of eight billion current lives and literally countless future lives upon your shoulders?"
"Would you stand alone at the VANGUARD of the Apocalypse Awareness Movement?"

Ah yes, resounding silence, that's just what I thought I'd here.

Remember this, I am Matteus Von Mustard and even my mistakes are more impressive then your greatest acheivements, each time I defecate I make a greater contribution to society then most men will make in their lifetime.

A Short Tale (with no hidden significance)

Apparently the man thought I was from New Zealand, because he kept saying he hated my kiwi shit. Mind you I had so thoroughly bloodied him up around the mouthparts that it sounded more like “Keew Siht!” and it took me quite sometime to decypher (that’s a clue).

Once he realized that I wasn’t from New Zealand, he took me to an infamous little bar and dancehall called “Rucco.” Everything was arranged. I was to wait at my table until a Welshman came to make the exchange at precisely midnight. The man had one of those Welsh names that is merely a string of els and doubleyous which ends up sounding like “Lliw.” He introduced me to a gorgeous calypso dancer apparently named “Espy Lacopa”. She was so gorgeous in fact, that for the first time I was struck dumb. Time came to a stand-still or even seemed to run backwards (that’s another clue). I so mangled my introduction that, like a nervous schoolboy, I simply said “Eht” and stretched out my well-manicured hand.

Eventually my charm returned and I chatted with the calypso dancer for several hours. During this time she revealed something to me so earth-shattering that I couldn't possibly reveal it publicly. Unless, perhaps I were to do so in an elaborate code that only my most astutest readers could possibly penetrate.

Eat Bugs for Money

As of late, I, Matteus Von Mustard Double-Esquire, have discovered an astounding television phenomenon called "Fear Factor."

In this program one can discover the true shamelessness of Americans; in particular stunningly-good-looking-wouldbe-actor-Americans-who-live-in-California. I'm not sure what precisely motivates these people to do what they do. Let us set aside the various feats of strength, balance and physical endurance; for these are sensible, even commendable, pursuits. I for one spent three years of my life living in a Chinese Junk and circling Sri Lanka attempting to mimic the physical perfections of the local pearl divers, many of whom could hold their breath for as long as three days. Even today, I can still go without oxygen for up to six hours in a pinch.

What on earth was I talking about...

Oh yes! Fear Factor and the nimwits therein.

What fascinates me is that these people have so little self-respect that they will eat bugs or dunk their heads in putrifying sheep fat on television and then smile and joke about it as if they hadn't utterly debased themselves. I am forced to wonder what exactly is the psychological process going on in their heads? Clearly it isn't the money. The odds are they won't even get any money. Even when the timer indicates that they HAVE ALREADY LOST they will often vacuum up those last few inches of shit-caked pig intestine for reasons utterly unknown to me.

And besides, there are easier, less degrading ways to make money quickly. For example, giving blow-jobs to strangers behind Taco Bell.

I have watched this show on numerous occassions (strictly in my capacity as defender of all existence) and not once have I seen someone man-up and tell that smarmy little prick of a host, "No, I have too much dignity to even consider consuming ants soaked in tabasco sauce with my nose." Imagine! How much respect would you have for that one stunningly good-looking guy who simply walked away from the money, from the other contestants and from the entire ridiculous freak show. To use the contemporary vernacular; How ice-cold Pimpin would that be?

At this point, I am honestly reaching out to you my readers; What in God's name are these people thinking? Week after week they degrade themselves in front of thousands of people and seem not to feel a lick of self-reproach. Is it the competition? Are these people so directionless and unable to think for themselves that they will do anything at all if someone equates performing the task with "winning?"

But I digress, my good readers wonder why this is a sign of the apocalypse. Here is why: The "Humour Columnist" Dave Barry is in actuality a mentalist of not inconsiderable talent. Throughout his columns he has disseminated a great deal of information that is astoundingly interesting to the eschatological community. He even went so far as to hide three specific signs of the impending apocalypse within some of his columns during the mid-1990s.

One of which has become manifest in the form of FEAR FACTOR.

You can read the column in question here.

I will ask you to pay special attention to paragraph nine. As is always the case with Dave Barry's columns, the ninth paragraph is the only paragraph of real significance. I will quote this paragraph in full here:

Because let's face it: Just because you watch a certain show on television, that doesn't mean you want to admit it. Let's say you're flipping through your 8,479 cable channels, and you come across a program called Eat Bugs For Money, wherein they bring out a large live insect, and the contestants secretly write down the minimum amount of money they would have to be given to eat it, and whichever one has the lowest bid has to actually do it. Admit it: YOU would watch this program. In fact, right now you're saying to yourself, "Hey, I wonder what channel that's on." Unfortunately, at present it's still in the conceptual stage. It's based on an idea from my editor, Gene Weingarten, who has publicly stated that he would eat a live adult South Florida cockroach (average weight: 11 pounds) for $20,000.

In this paragraph Mr. Barry is describing a hypothetical show, an absurdly ingnomious and degenerate program, in order to satirize actual programs by the flagrant and exaggerated idiocy of the concept.

"A ha ha!" the average reader is meant to say, "Imagine such a program actually existed."

A reader such as myself, who is well-versed in occult matters such as omenology, is meant to say "A ha!, I shall take careful note of Mr. Barry's wise words and observe the airwaves for just such a program."

And I have done so, and Lo!, it has come to pass.

This Just In!

Someone today has arrived at my site after searching for "Possible Zombie Apocalypse." For which I am apparently the 8th hit on Google. I wish there was a way to send messages to these people. I am astoundingly curious as to what is going on in this person's mind.