By Molly Belt
Well, here it is: 11-11-11. Of the 11 years we’ve had these kinds of triple number dates and the one more we’ll have next year, for some reason this one seems the most mystical. Add in the full moon, and this once-in-a-century date seems all the more special.
There won’t be an 11-11-11 again for 100 years. November 11, 2111. I can’t help but wonder what the world will be like the next time people write this date. I won’t be around to find out, of course. I’ll never know the answer to that question.
Will the date feel special to those of the 22nd century? Will any of the babies born today be celebrating their 100th birthdays? Will there even be people left? Will the earth still be here, be habitable? Will the people of 2111 be living in some horrible dystopia like those imagined in science fiction? A gray, depressing post-nuclear war world with a few survivors scrambling for subsistence. Will people be fighting for scarce resources, starving on an over populated planet? Will the next people to ponder the cosmic significance of 11-11-11 be living subterranean lives to survive the extreme weather conditions of a planet we didn’t respect in 2011?
Or will, in the next 100 years, people return to respecting and protecting our planet instead of raping and pillaging her resources for profit? Will there be enough for all, so that no one has to suffer deprivation? Will we have learned to share this planet with the animals instead of driving them farther and farther in search of a habitat? Will polar bears still roam the frozen tundra of the North Pole?
I’ll never know, and if the former scenario is what plays out, I’m happy I won’t. But if the sun rises 100 years from now on a world that is cleaner, greener, safer, more equitable than the one the sun set on tonight, I’m sorry I’ll miss it.