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Bogan Bingo: The Mayans

I booked the Bogan Bingo bus in for a service last week and I noticed the mechanic had a funny accent. He said he was a Mayan. Hmm, fair enough. Looking at his calendar above the beer fridge I noticed two things.

Firstly, topless Mayan chicks are quite hot and secondly, there was a full set of dates for 2012! Now someone who makes a living out of being a bogan, needs not know too much about other cultures let alone civilizations. But you have to know this stuff if you want to cruise for chicks at the Chai tent at Rainbow Serpent Festival each year. You can only say, “I’m vegan as well!” so many times before you have to buy some lentil soup.

 

But I digress. For the uninformed, the Mayans predict the end of the world in 2012. It got me thinking: with all the shit hitting the universal fan lately they’re not too far off the mark. Even worse, what if they are spot on? We think the world is falling apart at the moment and for all we know they could be still putting the popcorn in the microwave letting the previews run while thinking, “This is gonna be awesome, wait ‘til they see what happens next year…”

 

Come to think of it, a used condom could have landed on the moon the other night; it was getting pretty fricken close. But for all our sakes, lets just assume they got it wrong, even if by just a bit and that the worst is over. I’ll still give them credit. Predicting the end of the world is no easy task. They could have had a few jars by then as I assume it was the end of the working week for them after all. Also daylight savings wasn’t invented back then so we’ve possibly brought forth our untimely fate. (Don’t tell the farmers!)

 

And who’s to say they meant we’re all going to die anyway? They’re not stupid, these Mayans. I mean it was a pretty safe bet. Like some cult leader or politician whose promises lead to prominence. Once the clock ticks over and we all realise we are still alive, only then will their messengers start saying “Surprise! It’s the end of the world – as we know it. Gotcha.” Cue the song and bring out the dancers. It could be just some really bad apocalyptic dad joke, where we don’t really see the funny side at all.

 

But someone out there pulled Mother Nature’s finger cos’ she sure is letting rip at the moment. If there was a Father Nature on this planet I’d say he’s sleeping on the couch.

 

Seriously, are we really that unlucky to be here right now? Earth has been around for billions of years, light and heavy ones. So what are the chances of Mother Nature going through menopause at the same time you and I get a quernsey on planet Earth? It seems no one is safe, and there’s nowhere to hide.

 

Or maybe, just maybe, the cranky bitch knows exactly what she’s doing, and the Mayans are right. Maybe it is the end of the world as we know it. They say humans only come together when they have a common enemy. It’s like mother nature has come home from a bad day at some… nature seminar, caught the kids running amok in the house and just done her fricking nut!

 

Sure there’s hard times ahead for those in Japan, Christchurch, Queensland and Cranbourne, as they didn’t really deserve to cop the hiding they received. But if you look at it, countries that used to be at war are now flying in aid to each other, nations under oppression are claiming back their freedom, and fat kids are power‐slamming bullies in schools across the world! Throw in the birth of Wikileaks, the end of tobacco companies, and the death of record companies and Hey Hey It’s Saturday and the future is looking pretty bloody good!

 

They say it’s the year of the Rat. Maybe rat is Chinese for “Rolling coverage” ‘cos up until 2011, I didn’t know what rolling coverage was. I never knew my fascination with sign language behind politicians, I never realized, that after hundreds of centuries of war, dictatorships and corruption, us humans are finally getting our shit together.

 

My Mayan mechanic threw me the keys. My bus was ready. I stole his calendar and hit the freeway with a new sense of pride. I turned up my stereo and with my head out the window and wind in my hair I roared “Go easy on us mumsy, you hormonal beast!”, and lost control of my vehicle. But I didn’t care; I was towed back to my Mayan mechanic with calendar in hand. And I hope they are both right. I hope there is a 2012. I hope it is the end of the world as we know it. So cue that REM song mister DJ, ‘cos I feel fine.

 

 

 

Darren Hilsley is the man behind Bogan Bingo and their show, Bingo Lost Its Innocence just finished its season at MICF. Keep in touch with them at boganbingo.com for updates on their next season of shows.