| Lockheed 5B Vega, on display in the Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C.|
How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love Nostradamus
If you’re anything like me, and for your sake I hope you’re not, then you often find yourself thinking, "There just are not enough Internet columns about Nostradamus." I was so concerned that I did a web search, and was stunned when only five million pages came back as a match!! I nearly fell out of my chair. So I got a screwdriver and tightened up that pesky leg. But I guess that’s what I get for furnishing my house by liberating furniture from garbage dumps and houses that have recently burned. You should see my loveseat.
But Nostradamus has nothing to do with my loveseat. That particular furnishing would have more to do with Oppenhiemer at this point. I decided to contribute my own views on Nostradamus to the Internet, and I decided to visit the library and check out a book about him seeing as how my knowledge of Nostradamus consists of the ability to spell his name in a reasonably correct manner. So after checking out a suitably old and complete looking book on the famous seer (Centuricvs for Dummicvs), and drinking an entire bottle of cough syrup to get my creative juices flowing (how did you think I write this crap?), I sat down to read.
I was immediately surprised by the dedication at the beginning of the book, "I knew you’d check out this book, Zebulon." That was somewhat off-putting. So I turned to the middle of the book to get some samples of prophecy.
The first thing I noticed was that all his prophecies were written in poetry. But not fun poetry like limericks about Nantucket. These went like this:
In the year of the fruit-bat
The golden hat will roll atwixt
And all will bow to the hopping woman
Dammit, I can’t think of a rhyme for "atwixt."
Stunning, huh? This is an incredibly clear foretelling of the Teapot Dome scandal, right down to the color of underpants the Secretary of Handlebar Moustaches would wear when he was caught by the federal marshals while trying to dive out of a window in the Capitol Building. Immediately, I was hooked by these brilliant visions. Let’s examine another:
When the hot pegasus
Falls upon the drill and the bard;
All will see the pretty bee,
Crap, this poetry is hard.
Vivid, isn’t it? Nostradamus is clearly foretelling the Suez Canal crisis, even detailing the number of freckles on the Egyptian president’s butt. And to think some people say he wrote in vauge verse just so he’d look like he was right no matter what happened!! How blind are they?!? Here's yet another:
Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
As you can see here, Nostradamus is foreseeing the rise of America Online, connecting millions of Americans and potted ferns to Interactive Downloadable Marketing, formerly called the "Internet." Now, one more:
Oh, we're the boys of the chorus,
We hope you like our show;
We know you're rooting for us,
But now we have to go!
I did some research on this one, and it is apparently the cause of much debate in the Nostradamas community. It either fortells the near extinction of the Hungarian Ditch Weasel (which believe me would be no great loss), or the end of this column.