Memeing to Midnight

First it was bitcoin. Then it was dogecoin. Then it was doomcoin, a cryptocurrency that’s value was supposedly tied to how close the doomsday clock was to midnight. Not even a real thing, yet non-real things can have realest of consequences if enough people treat them to be real. Make-believe can be a powerful force. But perhaps the most powerful force of all is better phrased as believe-make.

It seemed that no one thought midnight would ever actually come. Especially not the gain-of-function experimenters who became doomcoin’s biggest investors. As if at 11:59 the minute hand would hit a magical barrier that would stop it dead in its tracks. Well, there is no magic in this world. Only human ingenuity and human idiocy. Each harmless enough on their own, but when combined... I ask you, what do you think doomcoin is worth now? Now that the clock has struck 12:01.

Let the record reflect that that it was not robots, aliens, meteors, or environmental disaster that finally did it. Rather, it was memes. It has been said the road to tyranny is paved with good intentions. Who knew the road to the abyss was paved with hilarity? Let it be known of human beings that we kept ourselves entertained. All the way to our doom.

The land was a sea of russet dirt as far as the eye could see. The sun’s rays beat down oppressively on the scorched earth. Still, Brodin found peace here. Particularly when he was alone, which was more often than not during the heat of midday.

The excavation site was wide and deep. Within lay the ruins of an ancient civilization, buried beneath the sands of time and now finally come to light. Since he was a young child, Brodin had been fascinated with the sapiens. A people of antiquity long extinct, perhaps more advanced than even his own. Now only whispers of their existence echoed through the land, revealing themselves to those intent on listening.

During a dig, Brodin would often wonder whether archaeologists of the distant future would one day discover the remains of his people. How much of his civilization would they be able to uncover? What message would he convey to them if he could? And how many peoples would rise and fall before entropy ultimately won the day?

“How do you think it ended… for the sapiens?”

Brodin turned to find Mihr, a bright pupil of his who showed the same sort of curiosity and passion he found in himself.

“A good topic for a term paper,” Brodin replied with a shrewd smile.

“That’s what I was thinking,” she said. “What I wonder most is whether they saw it coming or whether it just sort of happened one day? And then I think about how close we might be to something similar.”

“Looking at our own empires that have come and gone over the centuries, the signs of collapse are there in plain view long before the end, to those intent on looking. But still, it always seems so distant, so abstract. Until finally one day it does not. Much like individual mortality. Some things are so big, so radical, that they cannot be truly believed until after they have happened. Yet eventually the clock will always finds its way to midnight, sooner or later, whether we believe it will or not.”

“Must have been something massive, to bring down a civilization as prosperous as them,” Mihr opined. “A meteor, perhaps.”

“Perhaps,” Brodin said, considering the proposition. “Or perhaps something small. Something silly even.”

“Something we might repeat?”

“I am asked sometimes what is the purpose of my work, beyond sheer curiosity? Why not go into medicine or engineering or law, something of use where you can make a tangible difference to people’s lives. My first answer is if we did not try to satisfy our thirst for knowledge, then what exactly is the point of any of it? Without our curiosity we are here simply to survive, but not to live. I think you are on to a second answer… another good paper topic.”

Mihr thanked him for the assistance he had scarcely provided, jotted down some observations from the site and then went on her way. Brodin remained, as much for an exercise in meditation as academia. He closed his eyes and faced towards the sun, embracing the warmth on his aging face. He supposed it was the connection of the place that intrigued him the most. A connection to a dialogue that spanned thousands of years. Millions, perhaps. Made him feel like he was part of a great story. A story that would last, so long as there were those who would continue the dialogue. As he got older and death was no longer on so distant a horizon, he found comfort in knowing that something would endure. Something of which he played a part, no matter how small.

A flicker of light caught his eye, originating from the excavation site. Brodin got to his feet, a far greater effort than it had been only a few summers past, and descended into the pit amidst the ruins.

A small golden chain lay in the dirt, the source of the reflected light. Brodin picked it up and held it at eye level. In all of his long career he had never discovered anything of the like. A locket, in the shape the sapiens used to symbolize love. A heart.

Brodin knew he should turn it over to the university. It was the kind of thing that museums were built for. But, his anniversary was fast approaching and this locket was the kind of thing built for anniversaries if ever there was one. A big one this year, marking forty since his marriage to Neriah. What could be more romantic than a token of intimacy from a people long gone from this world, the only one of its kind, with a legacy a million years in the making? The fact he was breaking his professional obligations by keeping it only made the allure all the better.

That night, Brodin sat in his study looking over the locket. He had polished it as best he could. It shone brightly in the light despite its age. Upon close inspection, he noticed a thin line bisected the heart. He ran his fingers over it… I wonder, if I stick my nail…

The locket popped open, revealing a picture of two sapiens gazing at each other tenderly. Brodin removed the picture and held it between his fingertips, mesmerized by his discovery. A great story. The protective plastic laminate together with the locket had kept the couple together all these years. Perhaps, he and Neriah could join them in their eternal resting place, to one day be found by a future people.

He was carefully attempting to return the picture to the locket so as not to cause the couple any further disturbance when he noticed writing on the back. He took a magnifying glass to the letters, so small as to be near undiscernible to the naked eye. Late English. Through his decades of study, Brodin had become competent with many of the sapiens’ languages. He began to read…

“Neriah!” he cried when he had finished, traces of alarm in his voice. “I think we should get our money out of apocalypsecurrency!”