The following email/letter/message was found by the PtR Department of Reclamation & Re-use which finds items of note in the flotsam of the interwebs, and posts them when the tone approximates recent happenings in the world of the Spurs:

Don't give up hope just yet. 

Email to: All contact list, 01.01.2000: 11:07 PM
SUBJ: Why things are still standing, and how we can start preparing for the next apocalypse.

All,

I’m standing here, writing this while crunched over my computer desk; not knowing what to do next.  Things did not go down as I had planned.  My Garfield alarm clock, which I use as the Y2K canary, is still ticking.    So, what to do with all this stuff?   The propane tanks are packed to the hilt in my garage; I got more MRA’s than I got opportunities for meals left in my life.   I’m not sure who to fire all these armor piercing bullets at.  Perhaps I can put together a nifty bullet-belt, like the desperadoes wore in all the old cowboy movies, and then I can walk around and ask people “What’s your problem...it’s just a bullet-belt.”

Obviously we didn’t need the underground bunkers.  I’m sorry for all the man hours we put into this: but I’m not sorry for all our renewed and strengthened friendships.  I was ready to spend the end of the world with you; sharing a bucket for our waste; so heck yes I’ll help watch the kids this week-end, or take your elderly mother to Denny’s, or whatever.  Just let me know, I'm your man.

Obviously things didn’t go as badly as I expected or in some cases I promised while pointing a gun and yelling: “Would I be doing this if I thought there were going to be consequences for it come the first of 2000?”  I probably should have dialed that back.  
But let’s say I was right!  What would you be questioning about me then? Nothing, because we’d be safe and cozy in our beds made of newspaper, under a rock at the church, and we’d be singing songs and reading from candlelight all my mother’s Reader’s Digest condensed books; and things would be great!  But no, some code monkey had to go and fix the world by adding 1’s and 0’s to some script.     But who is now going to add the 1’s and 0’s to my heart?

So I say we do not disband the millennium mole-militia.  I say we double down for the next possible meltdown sometime in the distant future.  

I’ve wondered what we’d do at this point, where we’d go from here?  So much was built up, and here we are now with are computers still working; I'm writing this to you now with no problems except for an occasional glitch telling me it’s an IM from my mother.  Oh wait, that’s an actual IM from my mother.  She's making fun of me. 

And that reminds me, some joker taped my first book, 97 reasons why the world will end in 97' to my windshield last month, when my rhetoric was going into Ross Perot-crazy and I was demanding a lot of work-groups at 3 AM in the morning.  Well, I was wrong twice, so sue me.  (Please don't sue me.)    Technically I was wrong 97 times. But I'm becoming more efficient now.  See you Sunday.