Apocalypse Not: Mayan calendar becomes colossal bummer

There's nothing more anticlimactic, nothing more utterly disappointing, than a failed apocalypse.

A failed apocalypse is the gristly gourmet bacon-cheeseburger, the boring one-night stand, "The Godfather: Part III" of eschatology and all things end-timey.

Think of it: We spend all year gearing up for The End of Everything as We Know It, studying up on the Mayans and their stupid calendar with an eagerness we never once exhibited in school, and for what?

So that we can sit here, a day after everything was supposed to go all kablooey, and feel - it's OK, you can admit it - a little bummed out.

Don't misunderstand. We're happy that we're all still here and that you're reading this story. (On behalf of the entire newspaper industry: Thanks!) But, for many of us, coming to terms with the emotional letdown that comes with this latest in a long line of failed apocalypses - apocalypii? - might take a few more days.

The basics, of course, involve what is known as the Mayan long-count calendar that supposedly wrapped up a 5,000-year-or-so cycle on or around Dec. 21.

Some doomsayers took that to mean big, nasty stuff a-comin', even as others - among them, people who have actually studied Mayan religion and culture - argued that the end of a calendar cycle doesn't mean much .

Then, somehow along the way, the end of the Mayan calendar cycle became linked with all sorts of other doomsday theories, including one that a mysterious planet would collide with Earth, leading to, well, you know.

NASA spent much of 2012 denying that, of course. And conspiracy theorists, of course, said, well, what else would you expect NASA to say?

ALL IS WELL

Anyway, the passing of the big date means that Robert Pippin, planetarium manager at the College of Southern Nevada, no longer will have to explain to worried Southern Nevadans that, cosmically speaking, all is well.

For the past several months, the planetarium has run a popular show about the Mayans and their calendar. The last performance was Saturday , and Pippin says it was created "when we thought this would be a topic that people would be interested in."

Calendar business aside, the Mayans "were very interesting," Pippin says. "They did some amazing things. Some of their astronomy and mathematics were great, and they were probably the first people to use the concept of zero in their number system."

Pippin says he did receive calls over the course of the year from people wanting to know whether the planetarium was, for instance, taking photos of the planets lining up ( another doomsday theory that glommed onto the Mayan calendar).

Pippin figured that just gave him the chance to talk with them about how the planets really work.

"I've had people call and come to shows, and they seemed to be really concerned," he says. "I'd tell them there's nothing more to be concerned about than any other time."

The passing of Dec. 21 also will mean that Michelene K. Bell can stop trying to convince people that the Mayan calendar rollover is a good thing.

Bell, publisher of In Light Times, a Las Vegas-based metaphysics journal, says the end of the Mayan calendar cycle is an auspicious event that marks a time of enlightenment.

"I think people thrive on the drama. They love to get involved in the doom-and-gloom scenario," she says. "Unfortunately, they don't realize that they are bringing so much darkness into something that was so beautiful from the Mayans.

"It's a significant time because there is a shift going on, and all of a sudden people are finding some of their hopes and dreams realized."

In fact, Bell expects 2013 to be "a great year."

"There might be earthquakes and tornadoes and hurricanes, but tell me, when have we not had those things?"

THEY JUST RAN OUT OF SPACE

For cartoonist Dan Piraro, the end of the Mayan calendar doomsday scare means that the shelf life of one of his most-distributed comics will, alas, expire.

Piraro is creator of "Bizarro," the aptly named comic that explores human foibles in ways that - human foibles being what they are - are universal and eternal.

But in his comic skewering the Mayan calendar's supposed prophecy, he nailed the nut of it all by suggesting that maybe the end of the calendar was merely a space issue.

"Actually, I think that cartoon is maybe the most forwarded and most emailed cartoon that I've ever drawn, and I've been doing this for, what, 28 years," Piraro says.

And if you think the Mayans were impressive prophets, consider this: Piraro drew the cartoon in 2009.

"It really gained momentum last year," he says. "A lot of people have wanted to buy prints of it, a lot of people want to re-post it on their Facebook pages or in blogs or articles.

"I think it was just the first thing that popped into my head: We may be missing the obvious thing here, (and) they only had so much space to record numbers."

Piraro says he heard about the Mayan calendar business somewhere, "and knowing human nature, that people wouldn't let go of this or ignore it. They'd latch on to it, and some people would make fun and some people would fret and other people would make fun while secretly fretting."

Or, Piraro adds with a laugh, "maybe it was just my own sense of whistling past the graveyard."

MATERIAL FOR HUMORISTS

If nothing else, end-of-the-world scares always will provide steady fodder for cartoonists.

"Every time the end of the world comes up - and it's been six or eight times in my lifetime - every time it rears its creepy head, I love to hit on it with cartoons," Piraro says. "I just love to bang that drum because it must make people nervous. It's just fun."

And, in the end (see what we did there?), maybe that's the best way to make it through the letdown of another apocalypse that didn't happen: Just wait, because, even now, somebody somewhere is getting ready to get our doom-and-gloom juices flowing for another one.

"The first time I ever heard about the end of the world, I was 10 years old," Pippin says. "I had gone to a movie, and there was a guy passing out posters saying the world was going to end and repent now.

"That was almost 60 years ago, and we've seen them every couple of years and we're still here."

He laughs. "There'll always be something."

Contact reporter John Przybys at jprzybys@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0280.