It happened. Just as we expected it would.
The sky fell.
Washington state passed same-sex marriage laws, and the Beast reared up in the east and swallowed several fishermen whole.
New Jersey's state Senate passed a bill to recognize same-sex marriage, and a massive squid-like creature swallowed Hoboken and all remaining members of the E Street Band.
The Ninth Circuit, in California, overturned Prop 8's ban on same-sex marriage, and famine came and swept over the land. The oceans sank. Strange creatures crawled out of the deep and began making their way over land, depleting our nation's oil resources and smearing it over their bodies. Youth set down their schoolbooks or, er, school Kindles and started committing wanton acts of violence. As I strolled down the street, intending no harm to anyone, a young stranger approached and forced me to perform a civil union for him – with a horse.
In New York, same-sex ceremonies began to occur, and mankind squinted into the abyss, and the abyss scowled back. As one, we charged into all the temples of the Earth and began smashing the priceless icons of every creed and replacing them with Hummel dolls.
The carnage was unbelievable.
Several robots and dogs sent me offers of marriage, and I accepted all of them.
The nation’s schoolchildren forgot the Pledge of Allegiance and began chanting in tongues. Everyone lined up to defecate on the flag. Barack Obama’s head turned into a pumpkin, and he flung it at a statue of James Madison.
In unison, every man in a contented, monogamous, heterosexual marriages threw off his wife and joined a revival cast of “Sunday in the Park With George.” This was unobjectionable – we've all felt the urge to revive lesser Sondheim musicals at times – but then they insisted on wedding sheep with whom they had been on fewer than six dates apiece, and I could think of no good reason to stop them.
Thank God Chris Christie is here to veto this in New Jersey. Thank God someone is here to do something. The Earth is teetering on the brink of total and utter catastrophe, and all the old ways are being trampled and consumed in fire! By zombies.
No? Nothing happened? The sky stayed put? Married couples went about their days? The Obamas wished each other a happy Valentine's Day? Jeremy Lin continued to play stellar basketball?
Well surely there must be some famine, some plague somewhere. “I am pretty sure the Lord is scheduling an earthquake right now” — hush, Glenn Beck, Pat Robertson, Joking Michele Bachmann, or whoever that was. That’s not apocalypse. That’s weather — although this might offer a unique chance to reconcile those who believe in man-made climate change with those who believe that all weather is God’s way of punishing us for something.
So much for scourges of the land. Any plagues? Bill O'Reilly seems a bit seasick, but that seems to be about it. Rick Santorum looks like he might have a headache, but that‘s just his expression. I thought I was coming down with the flu, but I feel a lot better now.
And beyond that, nothing. Sure, unemployment’s high and generally speaking, things could be better. But the world seems disgracefully far from ending. I haven’t heard a peep from Gog and Magog. The Midgard serpent stayed complacently tucked under the Earth.
Maybe it’s waiting for a majority of states?
Or can it be that these Ballyhooed World-Ending Calamitous Iniquities were just another set of dull milestones in the lives of other people that sometimes require you to send cards? That there are no monsters, only people? That all this fighting and sign-waving and motion and counter-motion by slow agonizing degrees has brought us not to the end of the Earth but — back where we started, to legislative halls and courthouses, where speeches are given and bills signed and a few pairs of eyes are wet? That nothing has happened that our grandchildren won’t laugh about? And when the dust clears, that nothing more alarming has occurred than that people have sought love, and found it, and had it recognized?
Surely that’s world-shaking enough.