I love New York. I love the liberal politics. I love the arts culture: murals painted everywhere, theatres nestled in every neighborhood, amazing music played on subway platforms. I love the fast pace; walking should always be a competition of strangers. I love the convenience of the subway. Today I saw a man with the brown-haired version of Donald Trump’s hairstyle. I was so close, I saw it coming, going and a little bit from the top and I still can’t tell you how it’s composed. New York City is magical.
But fuck this place if the world is ending. I’m serious. I’m the first person to make a cynical joke about a doomsday prophesy. Remember when October 21st, 2011 came and went without us all being consumed in a fiery pit of Hell? All the way up to it, I was like, “Haha, religious nuts!” But the day of, I was unnerved.Recall the hilarious Y2K jokes that were bandied around? So hilarious. But around 11 PM, December 31st 1999, there was a moment of doubt. Calling doomsday prophets insane is the lowest hanging fruit of topical comedy. But the jokes often stop just beforehand; no one wants to be wrong about the end of the world.
And if the apocalypse does hit, New York City is done for. I’m serious. We have seen some warning signs: two hurricanes*, an earthquake, Kourtney and Kim Take New York. We barely survived those events. I seriously don’t want to be here when stuff goes wrong. The vast majority of movies about natural disasters take place in major cities: London, Chicago, LA, DC, New York. Have you ever seen a disaster movie shot in suburban North Carolina? ME NEITHER. And since Hollywood has never depicted anything untruthful or improbable, I am going with them on this one and getting the eff out of here.
Good luck Broadway stars, hot dog vendors, and the Statue of Liberty. You’re going to need it as you navigate the million dank basements and tunnels of apocalypse fame. Bonne chance Bloomberg, hipsters, and mixologists. Remember that you have to chop zombies heads off to kill them and that layers are better when it’s cold than just one warm coat. I’ll be at home drinking white wine with my mom and stuffing my face with biscuits. When I return on the 26th, if you guys have elected the biggest subway rat as your new city leader I will be pissed, but respectful of the office.
*Read this NYT article to find out what it is like to feel like the world is ending when you are older and vulnerable and relatively abandoned in the face of a natural disaster.