The apocalypse is something we here at Cuddlebuggery take very seriously. We think about it all the time because it’s bound to happen… eventually. Maybe. Perhaps. We’ve been preparing for all sorts of scenarios by doing what any sane person would do: Reading any and all YA Apocalyptic/Post-Apocolyptic/Dystopian we can get our hands on. See, YA authors are smart. Together, they have thought up all possibilities for the End of Times and we’d be wise to pay more attention to their prophetic words like this:
Grasshoppers. Sex. Donuts. Sounds like an awesome apocalypse according to Andrew Smith.
Look, everyone has to know beyond a doubt that the world is going to end at some point in the future. I can’t say what most people think about as they move along through their days, but I’ve thought about the end of the world—the apocalypse—for pretty much my entire life.
There are a few things about the end of the world that are the foundation of my personal apocalypse belief: First, since the world is going to end, I would like it to happen in my lifetime so I could see it; and, second, as long as the world is going to end, I really hope the apocalypse is hilarious.
And I will confess something else that plays into my vision of the apocalypse: I do not believe that nature is beautiful. Take maggots, for example, wall mold, or the fluid inside cans of cat food (I say this because I got some of that stuff on my hand this morning and I had an internal debate called Should I Wash or Should I Amputate?).
These things are not beautiful, people, and I won’t even argue the point.
In fact, not being beautiful is something that pretty much all bugs are extremely good at.
They are unarguably disgusting.
So, these things play into the apocalypse I describe in my novel, Grasshopper Jungle. The apocalypse is happening now (and it starts in Iowa, where I am convinced the end of the world will actually begin, if it hasn’t already), it’s very funny, and it involves disgusting bugs—six-foot-tall praying mantises that like to eat people and do only one other thing, which is to have sex, to be precise.
Picture this: Everyone in the world is being eaten by gigantic bugs, many of whom are actually having sexual intercourse while they’re eating. It’s kind of like Rome, but with bugs, and we humans get to play the part of the grapes, or figs, or whatever those Romans ate while they were having sex with each other.
My theory regarding the apocalypse is that if the world is going to end naturally—like by being immolated by the explosion of our sun, or whatever that fiery thing is supposed to do when it inevitably does what a freaking time bomb is programmed to do—that human beings will already have been long extinct.
We are also destined for extinction. Get over it people, it’s the truth, so you may as well liquidate all your assets and join a cult.
On the other hand, if human beings are around when the world ends—like Austin, Robby, and Shann, the three main characters in Grasshopper Jungle, are—then I’ll bet you dollars to donuts (people in Iowa like to say dollars to donuts) that human beings will have been the cause of the apocalypse. And we all know that’s more than likely going to result from a big fat cocktail of corporate greed, scientific carelessness, and militarism.
Put it all together and you’ve got my prediction for the end of the world, and why we all simply may as well laugh at ourselves for making it happen.
Sixteen-year-old Austin Szerba interweaves the story of his Polish legacy with the story of how he and his best friend, Robby, brought about the end of humanity and the rise of an army of unstoppable, six-foot tall praying mantises in small-town Iowa.
To make matters worse, Austin’s hormones are totally oblivious; they don’t care that the world is in utter chaos: Austin is in love with his girlfriend, Shann, but remains confused about his sexual orientation. He’s stewing in a self-professed constant state of maximum horniness, directed at both Robby and Shann. Ultimately, it’s up to Austin to save the world and propagate the species in this sci-fright journey of survival, sex, and the complex realities of the human condition.
Check out more apocalyptic futures as told by authors on the Visions of the Future tour!
Monday, September 8
Tuesday, September 9
Wednesday, September 10
The Book Wars
Thursday, September 11
Green Bean Teen Queen
Friday, September 12
What would you do in the event of a grasshopper apocalypse?
For me, I’d be breaking out my Bat Vader suit: