Claudia's Column
Friday, February 6, 2026
Circus From Hell
Wednesday, January 28, 2026
Fetish For Finale: The Doomsday Clock
Fetish For Finale: The Doomsday Clock
An observational rebuttal to the fear-mongering of the Bulletin of Atomic Scientists
By Claudia Berdella
According to the latest statements from the Bulletin of Atomic Scientist, the Doomsday clock which supposedly shows how close we are to Armageddon is at 85 seconds to zero hour. As of January 27, 2026 their Security Board announced their placement of the hand. Headlines reporting on the news give an air of immediate imminence; fear inducing propaganda, claiming the position of solid authority on the matter… As if the clock is not a mere arbitrary monolith and hasn’t been reset on numerous occasions.
Sarah Starkey in her written press release for the Board quotes a 2021 speech from CEO and professor Maria Rose to illustrate the given message:
“Without facts, there is no truth. Without truth, there is no trust. And without radical collaboration this this moment demands is impossible. We are living through an information Armageddon— the crisis beneath all crises— driven by extractive and predatory technology that spread lies faster than facts and profits from our division. We cannot solve problems we cannot agree exist. We cannot cooperate across borders when we cannot even share the same facts. Nuclear threats, climate collapse, AI risks: none can be addressed without first rebuilding our shared reality. The clock is ticking.”
Not wrong by a longshot at face value: global tensions are at a fever pitch, and AI directly feeds into climate issues. However, what is this, if not fear mongering? What is this if not an insincere voice regarding a fetish?
Since humanity developed knowledge regarding its own mortality, paired with the Upper Paleolithic ‘creative revolution,’ evolving an overactive intellectual capacity and biological prerogative for self preservation, high is the likelihood that apocalyptic scenarios have been around as long as any semblance of society has.
Terror Management Theory, as presented in the book Worm At The Core: On The Role of Death In Life— or Ernest Becker’s ever poignant precursor The Denial of Death— is the highlighted absurdity within the death-wish. Similar to a suicidal individual, doomsday scenarios are a hypothesized form of symbolic ego gratification. A monumental moment, then it’s all done. In the individual person this is delegated to self-esteem (ego) and romanticism of the human condition in comparison to the vast scheme of universal existence. Essentially the basic thought process in such is that at least you aren’t the only one dying and there’ll be nothing to miss out on; and maybe, just maybe, there’s an extension of consciousness beyond the post-Morten rigor mortis where we can all meet.
Even in the imagined end-scene, there’s a post-credit snippet. Denial of death permeates.
Say we do wipe our species off the face of the planet like in any apocalypse movie or a biblical barrage occurs and brings down perdition, what is the former but a self-fulfilling prophecy? What is the latter but deified daydreams? What is it if not a formalized fetish? Seemingly, the idea of a deathwish is encapsulated almost perfect, in both hope for and fear of an imagined end of the human world.
Albert Einstein has the famed line explaining, “I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones,” in association with the idea of a nuclear battle and subsequent fallout reducing technological advancements back to antiquity. Humanity in this hypothesis survives however. As it would seem, even if a nation like Israel decided to enact its Samson option, likely it is that survivors would still manage to straggle their way through. Atomic arsenals have obviously improved tremendously since Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and undoubtedly moreso since the Tsar Bomba; so the reconstruction of societies would be more of a struggle undoubtedly from the survivors, but like cockroaches have managed numerous extinction events, humans are pretty resilient in spite of excesses.
Blaming technology is unimaginable in the face of history and human tendency. Calling it causation for increased division among people is averting the human responsibility in the matter altogether. Back in the day, union busters would bring in black workers to piss off white strikers— it’s nothing new, imposed animosity. It all merely updates to the times as, mind you, humans are the ones programming it so.
With that, powering the technological advancement in the race toward artificial intelligence, also lies climate change. Eating up resources as an energy means, but simulating not irreparable. Without humanity much issues presented would revert. The Doomsday clock merely symbolizes the end of human existence, not the Earth which has spun and sprouted life before man and will long after.
With that, what is the actual truth and fact here? The planet would objectively fare better without mankind? Highly unlikely would it be for the entirety of ecosystems to die off, even in the advent of abhorrent man-made mutilation. The end of the world is just a placeholder for The Last Hominid’s Inheritance of Extinction. Overestimating itself: humanity is and are not the sole inhabitants of the planet, nor would it be the first or last to die here.
At face value, human society is neither innately good or bad, it is and evolves as time progresses. Most every era of its existence has it been predicted the end of the world was right around the corner; soon or sometime shortly after one’s lifetime. Sure, the span of human existence is but a short blip on a pale blue dot thus far, but with that (and to paraphrase Nietzsche in his book Human, All Too Human), come many assumptions as to its qualities and characterization of its own conscious perception.
Ultimately the Doomsday clock is a ruined orgasm on loop. Almost a self-fulfilling prophecy with the Great Filter hypothesis and centuries of media from the Bible to Stephen King’s ‘If It Bleeds’, depicting a sudden stop to it all. Realistically and observationally, such is nothing more than a fetish without finish.
Friday, January 23, 2026
Refracted Attraction: Issue Is Its Own Escape
Tuesday, January 20, 2026
Rogue Delay
Monday, January 19, 2026
Pointless Prescription
Malignant Indifference
Debased restraintContradictory taintWounded, windedActively attached
Draining phrase;Malignant, indifferent
Instituted and intentionalInvigorating incarceration
Wednesday, January 14, 2026
Envy: Invigorating Or Extreme Error? Neurotic Nihilism IV.4.1
“…as soon as a powerful foreigner invades a country all the weaker powers give him their support, moved by envy of the power which has so far dominated them”—Niccoló Machiavelli, The Prince
“What happens is that men willingly change their ruler, expecting to fare better. This expectation induces them to take up arms against him; but they only deceive themselves, and they learn from experience that they have made matters worse. This follows another common and natural necessity: a prince is always compelled to injure those who have made him the new ruler; subjecting them to the troops and imposing endless other hardships which his new conquest entails. As a result you are opposed by all those you have injured in occupying the principality, and you cannot keep the friendship of those who have put you there; you cannot satisfy them in the way they had taken for granted, yet you cannot use strong medicine on them, as you are in their debt.”
“…and there inside she saw Envy, consuming the flesh of vipers,The food for her natural venom…[…]That face is constantly pallid; her body is totally shrivelled; her eyes are both at squint while her teeth are decayedand discolored;her nipples are green with gall and the poison drips fromher tongue.She never smiles except when excited by watching pain,nor can she sleep, there are so many torments to keep herawake;wasting away; she is gnawed herself, as she gnaws ather victims,by torture that’s self-inflicted…”
“And like the malignant spread of a sadly incurablecancer,creeping on to affect other perfectly healthy organs, little by little the deadly chill crept into Aglauros’ breast, and finally blocked the vital paths of herbreathing[…]She simply sat there, a lifeless statue; the stone was not even white, but stained by her own black envy.”
Avatar: Misanthropic Muse?
Recently released was the third installment in James Cameron’s Avatar movies; and in seeing the new Fire & Ash film I left the theatre, like after the second movie, with an imbued sense of unbridled misanthropy. Leading to the pondering, is that truly the point?
Ramping up Agent Smith’s prescription of humanity as a virus in The Matrix, the Avatar franchise depicts the species as exactly so, spreading to other worlds even. In this sense it’s akin to the Nina Paley documentary film Thank You For Not Breeding, which uses the analogy of humanity being akin to a cancer spreading uncontrollably and maliciously.
Is humanity necessarily a virus, or could such be symptomatic to only its habits? With that, is it not a virus?
While the Na’vi natives of Pandora are shown to have many similarities to human tendencies— namely in regards to tribalism, such are purely logical in the face of the attempting onslaughts. Rather than extraterrestrial invaders coming down to Earth, the ‘sky people’ coming from Gaea are the abhorrent aliens.
By the closing scene of the third installment, Pandora is made out to be clearly more than meets the eye, as prior films already heavily implicated. Zooming out for a final short, shows the planet inhabited but within the spiritual realm the population of Pandora all interconnects with.
Pandora gets its name from Greek legend. As the mythology claims, the first woman on Earth, Pandora, is given a box as a (poison pill) gift from the gods, and instructed not to open it. Like Eve in Eden however, curiosity got to the cat as was always planned; from the box all pestilence and suffering and all that can be claimed as ills to the human condition sprung. Pinning the punishment onto Pandora, as explanation for the negative in the Garden of Earthly Delights, simply for married in lineage to Prometheus, who both molded mankind and stole fire from the gods to illuminate his clay.
Na’vi have a spiritual superior strength while man has mechanistic ‘might’. In that Pandora being as it is christened, is heavy in irony. Opening Pandora’s box isn’t humanity’s quarrel; it’s breaking in. Like Plato’s cave allegory, but the inhabitants of the cave are the enlightened ones; mixed with the Jungian invigoration of the primitive perceptions… the Na’vi are written to reflect this in blatant juxtaposition to the sky people.
Living in conjunction with the world they inhabit. Intrinsically connected to it in a literal, metaphysical way. Even though intelligent and conscious of the fact as humans are on their home world, the Na’vi do not counterintuitively attempt to refute their link to the broader ecology. Portraying invading humans as largely sociopathic, save a select few. Mechanistically, snobbishly, and militarily mistaking the “savagery” of the native population for stupidity. Savage is subjective; throughout the course of climaxes, mankind is repeatedly reminded to be incredibly brutal in its breaking into the world. Not dissimilar to real world situations like American forces in the jungles of Vietnam fighting against speaking trees; or British soldiers unfamiliar to the Virginian terrain.
Art imitates life; earth isn’t totally in shambles from pulsating tumors; and being the lie that attempts truth, the creation of an entirely new world being ravaged in interstellar rape, makes an acceptable allegory for box office hits. Differing in depiction from other blockbusters like the Independence Day movies, it’s a polar opposite picture. It’s not aliens invading, it’s aliens being invaded.
Friday, January 9, 2026
Phoebus Shows
Thursday, January 8, 2026
Awry Adventure
At exactly a quarter past 3pm yesterday (January 7, 2025) a call came through to me, leading to an awry ran and interesting, to say the least, venture. On the phone calling, my friends Jorgio & Harley with their dog Monkey; who had been hired as help for an aging man’s ranch as extra hands about an hour away from my place of work where we first met around a year ago this time. This was however an unpleasant situation wherein the older gentleman hiring them was essentially spinning false hopes, exploitation of some homeless people more or less.
From that I contacted a person named Victor, as he unlike myself is with vehicular transportation. My Subaru Outback unfortunately kicked the bucket about a month and a half prior (after 13 years, for the most part on the original battery no less) which created a small conundrum in the escape attempt later…
Driving 40 minutes solely to get me in the debacle, a quick $26 worth of gas and officially embarking off to the soundtrack of Boston’s 1976 self-titled album.
Looking like a scene from Seattle the sky was steadily letting itself down onto the town below, we eventually arrived to the dirt road of damn-near-damnation.
Driving in a Kia, little more need be highlighted how terribly those cars are in regards to being sub-par in all-terrain performance. We made it all but about 75% of the way to the ranch before having to stop so as to not bottom out the automobile. Getting out after pulling to the side, I walked the remainder of the 15 minutes to the ranch gate, finding Harley & Monkey. One would think of it simple from there. One would be of course, wrong, or there’d be less interesting of a story to note down.
Their stay at the ranch culminated in an attempt at normal diplomacy as one would when moving from a property not theirs, Jorgio attempted sophisticated interaction with the man. Such got a .22 drawn on him. Claiming that Harley had stolen a spoon and plate, somehow…
From there it was get the fuck out of dodge. After an hour and a half of back and forth in the rain trying to get one of the dogs back onto the ranch and the Wonder Twins (plus Monkey) finding their way in the pitch black to the car. Arriving back to a concerned Victor sometime closer to 7:14 at night it had luckily stopped raining. Had it continued the dirt road likely would have flooded and stranded us all. Not being the case however we were off.
Culminating finally in a quartet performance of us all singing along to Queen’s We Are The Champions after stopping by a dispensary to pick up a few celebratory joints. From there Victor and I dropped the three off at a Bashas they have some niches around; then went across the street to the gas station I work at for a few free drinks (courtesy of my employment), cleaning stuff for his back seat, and a cookie.
Getting back home from there to sit back down at the desk where it all began some 6 hours before. Situating some creepily cute antique dolls Jorgio handed off for me to hold; together they’re worth some $3000 total. A cool find from a month ago. There to write this tale from the day.
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