Vishnu! God bless you.

Somewhere, an Indian monk, locked away in his cell, insistent on the daily devotion to learning the ancient Sanskrit texts of his fathers and forefathers, very much removed from his overall society, caught whiff of a fantastic story of modern genius. Observers of Mita Jivru would have described his reaction to the little girl born with four arms and four legs as hysterical in the very minimum. Upon hearing of her, he ran with all the speed his own octogenarian limbs could muster, back to the ornate, dusty papyri as though his very life depended on it.

It was Jivru’s unearthing of the ancient story of the “healing of Vishnu” that, once picked up by the Indian media and, subsequently, the rest of the world, first brought the news of the real Revelation--the end of days. Tucked away in a text so obscure that even its own author may have soon forgotten it, a verse prophesies that Vishnu’s newest incarnation would someday be altered by a Man knowledgeable beyond his means, thus bringing the wrath of Vishnu’s sometimes-subdued spirit. The great lotus leaf of his/her left hand would raise to smite man into nothingness.

Professor Jivru had it within his power to come up with some kind of appeasement for Vishnu, some way to signal that man, in spite of living well beyond his expiration date, fattened on trans-fat, twinkies and coke, was still respectful of the great Creator and Destroyer. The professor could, presumably, have retreated to his studies, poured over his texts, sifted through his own encyclopedic of knowledge of Hindu history and folklore in order to find some rare and out-of-the-way, hidden verse revealing the perfect incantation, some “pull chord in case of Vishnu” stop-gap saving device. But, being what it is, the Indian media, hot on the trail of a real story, had found the tale of the century, one that could even turn the eyes of your every day teeny-bopper away from Brittney’s sad motherhood/incarceration. This was a story so good that the space where Dick Cheney’s heart used to be beat unexpectedly.

Professor Jivru was practically stolen, whizzed into the nearest TV studio for an in-depth 30-secnd interview where he would be expected to sum up his studies of the last 50 years in a sound bite digestible by his common non-Brahman counterparts. “Dumb it down, professor”, his diction coaches and make-up ladies would be telling him from the sidelines; Mita tried to smile in a welcoming way as he disseminated the altogether bad news—the destruction of all we know.

As Lakshmi Tatma, Vishnu’s 510th re-incarnation of the god/goddess Vishnu, did not see the abduction of her servant Mita Jivru positively at all, he/she simply decided, almost flipping a coin, practically on a whim, as is often the case with her/him, to smite all of humanity anyway. Unable to escape his new-found fame and manly allure, Professor Jivru will not be returning to his writing in order to save us all. He is sitting in a Baskin Robbins as we speak enjoying his first ever bubble gum sundae with a pretty stewardess, her heart all a-pitter-patter because of his grey matter. And since there is no one else that can save us…

I regret to inform you that tomorrow, at 3:23 PM Central Standard Time, the world will cease to exist. I brought a towel, but I scarcely think it is going to make a difference this time.