The 2012 Massacre of Mankind

One of the most interesting aspects in the life of Lord Pakal Ahau happened during the death of Mr. Orson Welles in 1985. Although Welles can often seem like a prophet of the postmodern, few today are able to work on these dual levels in the way he did.

Pakal was one of the few people who saw Mr. Welles, while working at UCLA Medical Center. Welles passed away at his home in Hollywood Hils, when his body arrived to the UCLA morgue, Pakal typed his death certificate and took it to the doctor in duty after the autopsy. Pakal never commented what he talked to Mr. Welles’ family during the last hours until now. According to our Lord, Mr. Welles had a last vision about a massacre of Mankind.

The following narrative is a version of War of Worlds, a similar adaptation that Welles used in his Mercury Theatre broadcast in October 30, 1938. Pakal thinks this description is appropriate for 2012.



The summer sun is fading as the year grows old
And darker days are drawing near
The winter winds will be much colder
Now you’re not here.

I watch the birds fly south across the autumm day
And one by one they dissapear
I wish that I was flying with them
Now you’re not here.

Like the sun through the trees you came to love me
Like a leaf on a breeze you blew away.

Through autumm’s golden gown we used to kick our way
You always loved this time of year.

Those fallen leaves lie undisturbed now
’cause you’re not here
’cause you’re not here
’cause you’re not here.

JOURNALIST: ” Fire suddenly leapt from house to house, the population panicked and ran – and I was swept along with them, aimless and lost without Carrie. Finally, I headed Eastward for the ocean, and my hope of survival – a boat out of England.”

Like the sun through the trees you came to love me
Like a leaf on a breeze you blew away
A gentle rain falls softly on my weary eyes
As if to hide a lonely tear
My life will be Forever Autumm
’cause you’re not here
’cause you’re not here
’cause you’re not here.

JOURNALIST: “As I hastened through Covent Garden, Blackfriars and Billingsgate, more and more people joined the painful exodus. Sad, weary women, their children stumbling and streaked with tears, their men bitter and angry, the rich rubbing shoulders with beggars and outcasts. Dogs snarled and whined, the horses’ bits were covered with foam… and here and there were wounded soldiers, as helpless as the rest.”

“We saw tripods wading up the Thames, cutting through bridges as though they were paper – Waterloo Bridge, Westminster Bridge … one appeared above Big Ben.”


JOURNALIST: “Never before in the history of the world had such a mass of human beings moved and suffered together. This was not a disciplined march – it was a stampede – without order and without a goal, six million people unarmed and unprovisioned, driving headlong. It was the beginning of the rout of civilization, of the massacre of mankind.”

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