Help from Hobbes

Extinction’s about to abort

Our species and where we cavort;

Still and all, life was hairy:

At best solitary,

Poor, nasty, brutish, and short.

Doom On!

Though we sail toward dusk and not dawn,

And though it’s a strange trip we’re on,

It’s now, here we are,

Break open the bar—

Doom on, me hearties, doom on!

On the Pursuit of Acceptance

Despite what I claim customarily,

I’m no master, I must admit, verily:

That I’m far from a whiz—

What I really mean is,

I’m just holding on temporarily.

November 8

There’s a whole lot of things that I feel

As the ending begins to congeal;

But some tipping took place

Which transformed inner space,
And the shit is now getting surreal.

3D Printers Will Save Us

If the oncoming famine-caused slaughter

Makes you feel more and more distraught-er:

With the new 3D print,

We’re still in like Flint:
We’ll print out our own food and water!

Meh

Once convinced that extinction is true,

You might ask, “What the fuck do I do?”

One approach to employ

Is just try to enjoy,

Until doom gets around to you.

All the World’s a Stage

The script is complete and complex—it

Is fine, except overshoot wrecks it;

My part poses a quiz,

And the question now is,
“How am I going to exit?”