Asmackalypse Now

Before I begin this post, allow me to say that the reason I have not been posting much of late is that I have been busily working on the editing phase of my next book thingy. I assure you that all is well with me and my health continues to improve.

Now for a little madness....

Over my years of observing two leggers and their behavior, I have noticed (and often mocked) almost everything they do. From the games they play, to their odd habits and even their choice in music; nothing escapes my ever-observant gaze and judgement. Some of these observances apply to my particular matched set of two leggers, others apply to two legger society in general.

This post thingy applies to the latter.

Through constant exposure to various news mediums, I have noticed that every three or four months, some two legger suddenly jumps up and shouts to the world thingy "I HAVE INCONTROVERTIBLE PROOF THAT THE WORLD IS GONNA END ON NOVEMBER 2ND, 2015!!!!!!!"

 Now the two legger who shouts this, and the date they predict for the impending doom is always different, but the result is generally the same. Two leggers across the globe begin to panic. Some sell off their belongings, some hoard weapons and food, others put on tin foil hats and hold up "Welcome, make yourselves at home!" signs to the alleged destroyers of civilization.

The methods of this destruction vary almost as much as those who predict it. Space aliens, cosmic collision, environmental catastrophe, divine retribution, world-wide epidemic, bumbly bee die-off, the breakup of One Direction.... the list goes on and on.

All of these predictions have one common denominator...............

They were all wrong. (check it out folks, italics, I used bold type and underline for emphasis!)

Yet, as is the way of the two legger, everyone still goes nuttier than a health food store every single time someone yells "THE END IS NIGH!".

In this instance (as in all instances) two leggers should learn to emulate their feline superiors.

First of all, if someone tells you something unpleasant such as "You are about to die", or "All you hold dear shall be utterly destroyed on the second Tuesday of next month." you should either ignore them until they go away, or simply take a nap or twenty and forget it.

One should never stress about something that they have absolutely no control over.

We do not worry about meteors, sunspots and black holes. We do not fear nuclear conflict, social unrest and long lines at the restroom. We laugh at alien invasion, famine and disease.

We cower at nothing!!!

Okay, Ivan freaks out at SIUPs. (Socks In Unusual Places) But that's just Ivan.

I guarantee you that if anyone should ever accurately predict the "end of times". If they should reveal iron-clad evidence that the sun will explode and annihilate every single organism on Earth on the 13th of February, 2016. If they should have their theory verified, notarized and certified by every scientist thingy in the Universe, every single cat will sleep right through it.

Except Ivan.

Ivan will still be worrying about that sock.

Social Diseased

I have never been known to complain about anything.

However, on occasion, I have been known to rant.

This is just such an occasion.

Around the same time that I began writing my blog thingy, I also "drank the social media Kool-Aid" and started using FaceBook. I quickly discovered that through FaceBook I was able to interact with my long-distance minions much more effectively than through basic email. It empowered me to communicate my philosophy and demands directly to all those who yearned to be enlightened. I could learn about my minions and their lives thus subjugating them and enabling me to move forward with my ultimate plan for Universal Domination (all while enjoying games like Words With Friends and Trainstation).

This all came to a screeching halt last Thursday.........

After five enjoyable years of constant communication with two and four leggers all over the world thingy, FaceBook suddenly decided to delete my profile. They gave no warning of the attack (as a cat, I actually respect that) and they refused to allow me to contact the many "friends" that I had made. I was informed that I could retain my "Public Figure" page, but would no longer be allowed a personal profile. This limits my interaction with my followers greatly.

It seems that a computer somewhere in a deep, dark hole, probably located in a skyscraper in Seattle and designed by squirrels had decided that I am not a "real person". The reason they gave was that my profile violated their "Users Agreement" because I am unable to prove that I am a "real person". I sent them an email requesting that they reconsider their decision. Another computer (probably in a different deep, dark hole but still tended by squirrels) replied that it still didn't consider me a "real person".  Apparently, they required that I send them a photo of my ID to prove my identity.

So, I did............

The computer was still not satisfied and once again rejected my appeal.

Suddenly, it occurred to me.........The irony left me dumbstruck! For the last five days, I have been arguing with a computer over whether or not I was a real person! If I wasn't so annoyed, I might be amused and impressed by the chaos they have caused.

Realizing that arguing with FaceBook is about as fruitless as Ivan trying to solve the mystery of where the sunbeam goes at night, I have decided to cease my appeals and try to work within the system.

Towards this end, I have become active on my "Public Figure" page. I shall continue to cause chaos and mayhem through this new medium. Anyone wishing to follow or contact me is welcome to do so via this link thingy: Cujo Cat . Have also set a Twitter thingy and can be found at @Cujo_Cat. Though I have eaten several tweeters, I never imagined that I would become one.

FaceBook seeks to thwart me in my quest for Universal Domination. I scare the Zuckerburger, so he wishes to control my influence over the masses. He controls the FaceBook and so I will re-focus my efforts elsewhere.

At least that's what they'll think.............