Signs

There's a stench of armageddon in the air. Can you smell it?

It might not be armageddon, I suppose. But it's something.

The whole CERN hoo-ha (is that how you spell hoo-ha?) is in full effect. It's really quite exciting. I like that scientific discovery is getting so much coverage.

But people are uneasy. Something about the enormity of the whole thing is scaring people. What will happen? Are we safe?

It was with this sense of foreboding that I began my walk today, and saw two emblematic billboards. They really captured the mood of the nation.

The first was outside a newsagent, displaying the headline of the Oxford Mail. It's probably the best headline I've ever seen:








BOFFINS 'WON'T DESTROY WORLD'


I know what you're thinking: 'whew!'


Indeed, I am now reassured.


There is so much you can say about this, I'm not sure where to start.


The use of the word 'boffins', for example. I like the fact that even though this story is apparently concerning the fate of reality, we should still dismiss scientists as 'boffins'. That's good. Even in the face of the apocalypse, we're still able to channel our 13-year-old selves.


"Those crazy egg-heads! What are they up to now? Destroying the world? Dicks. I don't want the world to end. I'd miss WKD and Soccer AM and gobbing in the street!"


'Boffin' is a distancing word. We don't know what they're doing, and we don't want to know. Let's just hope their crazy hair-brained schemes don't mess with the TV schedules. It's also quite a jovial word. This story is presented as a bit of a joke (and concerns about the end of the world are quite funny). But they must still be expecting a few people to look at that and feel compelled to buy the paper, just to make sure.


Another brilliant part of this sign is the inverted commas around the quote. Boffins 'won't destroy world'. The Oxford Mail isn't ready to commit to this. They've obviously quoted someone. They can't print it as gospel, because - well - if the boffins do destroy the world, the paper will have egg on its face! It might even face legal action.


"You said they wouldn't destroy the world, but they have! LIES!" - someone might say, if they erect a courthouse in a quantum singularity in space.


The Mail want to cover their arses. I admire that. You must prepare for every eventuality (even the eradication of our entire planet).


But at least it's an upbeat story. You don't normally get positive headlines. So I continued my walk with a spring in my step. But I came upon another sign - not a hundred feet from the first - which made me think again:





SAVING THE WORLD FROM MEDIOCRE COFFEE

I'm not going to speculate about the quality of Costa's coffee, or their messianic self-belief.
But I am going to ask: is this a coincidence?
Is a billboard that talks about saving the world just an off-beat idea, or do they sense the mood of the nation?
Do they know that we're recreating the conditions of the big bang? Do they know we're heading for a recession, and the credit crunch is crippling everyone? Do they know that we're approaching an new Cold War, and that terrorism is on the rise? And that immigrants are taking our jobs? And that Gary Glitter has x-ray eyes and prowls around the city on stilts looking for our children's bedrooms?
Of course they do. Costa knows. And they're here to reassure us.
Like the Oxford Mail, they've thought carefully about it. And they accept that nine out of ten people won't make the connection. They won't recoginise the faint, familiar glow of the rapture streaming through a coffee-shop window.
But some people will see that sign. They'll see that sign, and with an ache in their hearts and a void in their wallets, they''ll seek refuge from judgement day in a half-caff Mocha with an extra shot of expresso and whipped cream.

It reminds of that Bill Hicks routine about marketing people, who are unable to view events as anything but a marketing opportunity. That's what Costa have done.
"That armageddon dollar is a huge market! The whole 'end is nigh' demographic is really big right now. Let's hope those nerds at CERN do rip a hole in space-time. If we experience some kind of quantum catastrophe, we can get all Heisenberg on their asses. When people are uncertain, they spend more money!"
And faced with this, I fell to my knees in the street. I couldn't take it - the dismissal of science, the frivolity, the vacany of the news industry, the perniciousness of the marketing cockroaches, the desire from every despicable, corrupt, selfish, greedy individual to spread their demonic virus even into the next life - after reality, after planet Earth, after death, the papers won't be liable for misunderstandings, and frappuccino proclamations will ring out into the void of space.
And as my tears streamed onto the concrete pavement, a man looked down at me with compassion.
"Cheer up mate, it's not the end of the world!" he said.
Well quite.