It turns out that it does. The word means “anyone who submits to the belief that they are powerless to change their destiny.” I’ll agree to that, if only because the life you lead is the life you lead. The pronunciation of those two key words should be different, and I’ll let you figure it out.
Meanwhile, I can’t say things are predetermined, as I don’t really believe in time as a linear thing. I think matter ‘is’ on a plane of existence, but ‘time’ as we know it is just a biological reference point regarding how fast or slow things decay perceptionally. I think that’s what Einstein meant by time being relative. If it’s not, I’m really not affected. This tangent was unintentional, but I really didn’t know that the word ‘fatalist’ existed, and hopefully that’s the last time I’ll be using quotations or the word ‘exist’ for the remainder of this post.
What I meant by fatalist was my own personal belief that the world is going to end in my lifetime. I remember in a humanities class that I took at community college, that mankind has thought of itself in written works and popular culture to be in the Fifth Age of Man since the Dark Ages, when by all accounts mankind should have died off. The Fifth Age was (or is) the apocalypse, and really, the Dark Ages should have been it. We’re scared of something called swine flu while they were dying en masse from the black death and thought keeping meat in barrels of salt was a good way to keep it fresh. I’ll give ‘em the point(s).
Aside from that, I expect something along the lines of what movies have foretold. The following scenarios would be acceptable:
- Zombie Apocalypse While not the most easy to deal with, a zombie apocalypse would give me what I’m looking for in a post-disaster hellscape. Basically, I want to be able to lead a ragtag group of survivors through the horrific shells of postmodern society while being able to mercilessly defend myself with makeshift weapons and vehicles. It’s one of the reasons that I know how to wield a machete. I’m also referring to the zombies of Romero, lumbering and awkward. To me, that was the most frightening aspect of zombies—you don’t understand them, they have no reason to be real, yet they make sense.
- Water World I went ahead and separated those words in case of copyright infringement. You never know, nowadays. Anyway, this was probably my earliest fatalistic scenario, and the reason I learned to sail a 6’ sabot. The Discovery and Sci-Fi Channels used to have shows explaining the varied and impending ways the world would end: alien attacks, massive disaster, the world flooding over and similar things of that nature. I’m not sure why flooding stuck with me more than other things, but I (almost) immediately signed up for Junior Sailors. I thought it out, as sailing would be the best way to get to any kind of dry land because it didn’t require fuel. I’m not sure how I would have survived the required torrential tsunami making a slow and gradual escape to dry land impossible, but again, it made sense at the time and I was maybe 12.
- World War III This last one, honestly, I still consider. I can’t help but look longingly at Army surplus websites and wonder what loadout I’d choose if I had to become a lone-wolf sniper trekking across the foothills of suburban southern California. I can’t explain this male fascination with war-torn landscapes or the innate desire to lead or take part in clandestine rebellion, but give Red Dawn a gander and you’ll have an idea of what I’m talking about. That’s not to say I support whatever the word ‘insurgency’ means these days, but seriously, watch Red Dawn—it’s a Swayze classic and a little more applicable than a similar rebellion in a galaxy far, far away.
