« In case of apocalypse, run for shelter.
Run underground. It’s not good to linger on the surface of things.The ground itself crumbles. Big chunks of the road collapse.The earth trembles.The earth burns. Go to the greatest depth.
The problem is managing to get back out afterwards. But for the moment - if you can focus on the moment - it’s still your best option. Or stay with me if you really want to.
Charcoal erasers. Big black clouds rub out the horizon as they advance.You’d reckon a storm was coming. A tornado would be best. Tornadoes are truth-tellers. They point their severe finger at us. When their vortex touches the ground, it inhales the walls the roofs the houses.When it passes, all the structures appear. All the beams and all the frameworks. Right to the floor-plan.
In the sky above the buildings, bicycles pass. Cars.Tanker trucks. Small sections of yellow concrete. Planes take off in reverse. Planes fly on their backs like dead fish.
When you have yourself the chance to be inhaled, you ascend sometimes all the way above the clouds.You float an instant in the radiant azur. Before falling back into the catastrophe.
Trees detach themselves from the soil like herbs. A truck is folded in two in the middle of the road.
Hailstones come suddenly.The hailstones are as fat as tennis balls. Pétanque balls. Cannon balls. They’re metaphorical spheres of different sizes and different materials. And while the salvos of hailstones big-as-x crash upon the earth - on the campsites the hotels the trailers - the rivers start overflowing. It’s their thing.
On such a spectacular day one would expect the waters to submerge the language, too. Leave their narrow lexical bed. And combined with the unchained elements take with the whole vocabulary. Slaughter the grammar. Reveal the structure of phrases. But they generally don’t. The floods of nature quite respect syntax. And terminologies. Surely, they don’t have time to destroy everything. Nor to break all the chains. For the moment we’ll concentrate on the world if you please.
The tailwinds come last.The tailwinds are the most violent.
At the place where we are right now the range of possibilities is considerably restricted. It would seem - I have the impression - that our only remaining choice is between blaze and floods.To my left the landscape is a flame. Hurricanes of fire sweep up everything still standing.To my right a giant wave advances towards us like a galloping mountain. At one point we’re in the air.The next instant we’re in the water.We’re right at the crossroads of destiny. It’s up to you to choose your method of extinction.
On the contrary to what you might have thought, the problem with the apocalypse is not death. Death is just an accidental secondary consequence.The challenge is the revelation. Before each definitive exit the veil of reality is raised suddenly before the eyes of the spectator. And he discovers then for the first time what’s behind it. And behind it - spoiler alert!
There’s just a green screen. »