I’m not going to say it, and you’re not going to say it, but we both know that we’re all thinking one of two things: “I told you so”, or, “dammit!” For those of you who wanted to relive your childhood as the obnoxious 9-year-old no one really wanted to play with, but who somehow had all the good toys we desired as children: Congratulations—you’ll forever be that person we’ve always secretly wanted to kill, but just can’t seem to find a way to make it worth while. And, for those of you still hunkered down in your makeshift fallout shelters, surrounded by high sodium canned soups, weeping from inside of that second-hand biohazard suit you scored off eBay: I feel your pain bro.
There’s a strange, yet subtly painful feeling in knowing that the Mayan’s probably just got bored and stopped counting the days of their calendar, that maybe, instead of discovering the end of the world that day, they discovered beer, or a new sexual position that everyone just had to try. Sounds good enough to me. I love beer, and sex goes well with that. But, deep down, it’s not that we really wanted to believe the Mayan’s knew something we didn’t, that we might all be killed in some worldwide catastrophe that suddenly justified all those zombie apocalypse films. 
If anything, the disappointment comes in knowing that business will continue as usual, that any event big enough to derail the familiar cycles of poverty, political gridlock, and the exploitation of those held hostage by the financial rat-race rigged against the majority, won’t be coming to the rescue. Nothing and no one will be coming to save us. There will be no golden age of enlightenment, no equalization of human value, and no liberation from arbitrary materialism. Today, that Prada bag and BMW will hold the same dollar and status value it did yesterday, and today, everyone’s gonna go for it. You won’t be telling your boss to “shove it” today, and your credit card company will still call you about those outstanding charges you made during that awesomely drunken weekend you can barely even recall. There’s something to be said about cleaning slates and starting over; there’s a necessity to it. Nature takes care of itself with new beginnings and humans are a part of that. So, maybe we dodged a bullet today, but let there be no delusion about the promise of tomorrow. Live and live well my friends. 
The rat race goes on…