The end of the world as we know it, or of a lifestyle, or of a life, or of a love affair, in descending grandeur, will have repercussions.

Those who study eschatology tend to focus on the grand vision so that they'll attract a mass audience. The end of a love affair, unless visualized by James Cameron with a ship-sized mini-apocalypse to accompany it, will be remembered by only a few.

I've noticed quite a few of the young obsessed with eschatology using the opportunity to amass knowledge in this field.

They may have confused science with good stories. What they truly crave is a narrative that sensually bombards them, but they end up in a maze of pseudo-science that confounds them cerebrally.

They want to rise above the mundane by searching for intelligence not consecrated by textbooks. But they are drawn to tall tales designed by those even less adequate in the pantheon of knowledge.

The prognosis of such an event does have its upside, though. It makes people pause to think of things that really matter to them, such as family and friends and the so-called "bucket list".

Suddenly, a property within the Fifth Ring Road or a vehicle license does not seem that important. It is similar to the aftermath of a huge natural disaster when people take a sharp turn to the spiritual. But judging from the relentless rise of real estate prices in recent weeks, few took the Mayan prophecy seriously.