On December 22, 2012, The Chaos Thaoghaire Time Capsule, currently home to two objects, one of which is already lost (missing: one pair of mostly-worn Dunnes Stores y-fronts) and the other of which is five billion dollars, will be opened. That’s if we’re all here to see it. That is, if people keep giving us stuff to put in it, and it’s not all just whatever candy wrappers that didn’t make us contest winners, plus five billion dollars and a pair of underpants we can’t find.
Lately it looks like that glacier that everyone has to cut-and-paste from a Google search (like I just did here: Eyjafjallajökull), the Gulf of Mexico oil spill, Boston’s Aquapocalypse (you can take the girl out of the dirty water, but you can’t take the dirty water out of the girl, except with a boil notice), and Heidi Montag’s face are all conspiring to make those industrious 2012ers can a little faster.
In the spirit of this, our next Chaos Thaoghaire will be It Was Like That When I Got Here: stories about disasters, and — pay attention now — will be in The Sugar Club, Leeson Street, Dublin 2 on the 27th of May, which marks the first time in four-plus million years of hominid and human history that Chaos Thaoghaire will have been held on a Thursday.
Won’t you join us for this historic occasion? We’ll be trying out a slightly different format this time. Still stories and games, just a little bit twisted around. Hogtied and hung upside down to let the blood drain. Wait, did I write that out loud? Anyway, this is not a Champions League event, so no belt will be awarded, which means that the current holders of the belt (belts, actually, since we awarded two in February, which, like that Spice Girls song, will soon become one) have yet another month to disgrace themselves and risk challenge by their respective First Runners-Up.
Storytellers to be confirmed soon. Games already planned. One of them is so exciting that the Chaosettes actually wept with joy at the mere thought of it.
In the meantime, what’s your favourite disaster? Being a Bostonian, mine has to be The Boston Molasses Disaster of 1919. Before you get too comfortable (I didn’t), I can tell you that there’s at least one molasses tank down by Dublin Port, which could (this may not be true) easily explode or otherwise be punctured, leaving us not only as residents of a (semi) failed (semi) state but in a massive molasses morass. Get those gingerbread recipes ready.
Oh, and this one:
