When I was in junior high I saw “The Man Who Saw Tomorrow,” a cable special about Nostradamus, featuring Orson Welles, which scared the hell out of me.

I’ve always been kind of twitchy when it comes to the paranormal, but this thing kept me awake for the better part of the eighties worrying about the kind of messy end we could expect in the near future.

The only thing that finally got me to stop wigging out was the fact that the end of the world was so far away that I should just stop worrying about it until it happened.

The problem is that just as I was dangerously close to completely forgetting about Nostradamus and the end of the world, I get a harsh reminder that the end is not only nigh … it is next Tuesday!

Some things I will be looking forward to doing without are scandals. Or I should say SCANDALS! Big, scary scandals shoved in my face constantly like I give a damn. That I can do without.

McDonald’s. If I never have to see another McNugget I will rest happily.

I hate any institution that makes me say “Mc” in front of everything. It’s insidious. I like to mess with them sometimes. Chicken McSandwich, eggamuffin, large McCoke.

The end of the world is Tuesday Oct. 13, 1998.

Which means that this may in fact be my last column.

Now I can think of at least three other occasions in the past where the warnings of various prognosticators were made public.

They used to talk about it on the evening news every once in a while just for a kick back in the days when we knew nothing about Gerald R. Ford’s sex life [shudder] and we didn’t WANT to know anything.

Betty Ford on the other hand … rrrrrooowwr.

Nowadays, we get to see incredible spectacles on a daily basis on hundreds of channels, 24 hours a day.

Twenty years ago, we only had Phil Donahue, and even his wildest shows were 100 percent legitimate, newsworthy documentaries compared to the most buttoned-down fare Jerry Springer puts forth into the ether.

But there are some interesting questions which need to be answered.

The world is coming to an end next week, and you know it is true because I am telling you Nostradamus said so and he has probably never been wrong. So what are you going to do this weekend?

I am not a betting man, but I would wager that most of you won’t be going nuts and start wasting people for cutting you off in traffic.

This is not Los Angeles, after all. I don’t think any of us would be willing to commit such drastically permanent acts. Not based on the suspicious interpretations of some dead Frenchman as presented by HBO, at least.

I would argue that if you only have four days you could do something constructive or life-affirming like getting drunk or making peace with all those people in high school who made your life a living hell.

Of course, you do run the risk of having your last days on earth turn into a cringe-making hell as Chuck Jockstrap laughs in your face for being such a wuss when you only have four days left to live.

No, we are rational people. We need something a bit more concrete to go on here like some Dan Rather-type showing us a picture of the asteroid or the solar flare that is on its way and telling us that it is now officially okay to start kissing our butts goodbye.

But if it is next Tuesday, that is pretty quick.

We aren’t even really sure what is supposed to end the world. There are plenty of options though.

There can be no doubt of that. Saddam has been hiding weapons. There are former Soviet nukes that are currently anybody’s nukes.

No one knows where they got off to and that rarely makes headlines since there is no closure.

We like our news like we like our movies, lots of sex and violence, a few car chases, an easily identifiable villain and a thoroughly happy, unambiguous ending … with lots of sex.

We like to see tragedy on the tube because we are always offered heroes on the side.

No matter what the crime, national disaster or minor disturbance, there is always some example of supreme human nobility that comes to the rescue when all is dark.

“The family dog saved our baby.”

“If it hadn’t been for a passing band of Hari Krishnas, I’d be dead right now.”

We dig that kind of pabulum because deep down we know that our culture doesn’t really have any heroes. We are jaded.

We are equally desensitized to tragedy and triumph. It all seems pretty lame to the average American.

So on the plus side, when the end of the world comes, we are all going to get the chance to start all over again.

Soon everything will seem fresh and new, even if all that is left is rubble.

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Greg Jerrett is a graduate student in English from Council Bluffs. He is opinion editor of the Daily.