Impending Doom

Mid-winter doldrums' icy digits pierce the psyche. I could blame these frigid fingers for the shadowy specter surrounding me. I could, but that would be less than truthful. Frankly, since I can remember, I have always felt the omnipresence of impending doom.

When I met a certain statuesque redhead, she was familiar with Hunter Thompson, but had not read his work. I started her off with his only piece of fiction, and one of his earliest, The Rum Diary.  It contains the lines: "...I shared a dark suspicion that the life we were leading was a lost cause, that we were all actors, kidding ourselves along on a senseless odyssey. It was the tension between these two poles – a restless idealism on one hand and a sense of impending doom on the other..."


She brought them to my attention, saying, "When I read those words, I expected to see 'as ever, BB' after it." Res ipsa loquitor


Doom comes from the Old English, dom, meaning a statute or legal judgement. Its most famous use is The Domsday Book, the financial census and tax ledger ordered by William the Conqueror. Some say the word's ominous definition derives from this. Others say is comes from the description of the Final Judgement in the King James Bible. Whatever etymology tickles your fancy, doom's oppressive shadow darkens our existence.

The cataclysmic climax of this big, blue marble does not perturb me. Years ago, I came to the realization that life is ephemeral. As Robbie Burns penned, "The best laid schemes o' mice an' men/ Gang aft a-gley." At any time you could be walking down the street and one of Terry Gilliam's 16-ton animations could squish you. 


 I've delved into idealism, existentialism, empiric rationalism, phenomenology, etc. ad infinitum. It all boils down to Be Here Now - a nod to Ram Dass. You live for the now because nothing is guaranteed.


My problem is not eschatological, but diurnal doom. The morning dew of personal  plans, ideas, hopes, dreams that dissipate under the mid-morning sun. Like Duke and Dr Gonzo racing the big, red shark through the desert, perhaps it's time to break into the ether - as ever BB


"Man makes a beast of himself to forget the pain of being a man." Dr. Samuel Johnson (The epigram at the beginning of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas)