No, 2012 is not quite the pointless cinematic exercise that G.I. Joe was, as I noted in my review last week. But that's no reason not to repurpose some of its more notable dialogue for an alternative literary experience:
Looks like the neutrinos coming from the Sun have mutated into another kind of subatomic particle. They're heating up the core of the Earth.
I work for the White House.
You do know this is a fundraiser, not a frat party, right?
Whoa, man. Will you look at that? Sick.
Yes, your seven-year-old daughter still wets her bed. Maybe that's something you should know.
I told myself, Charlie, get your stupid ass to Yellowstone.
Only a dozen people in this administration know what I'm about to tell you.
Cute girl, huh? The first daughter? I saw you looking at her.
Subjects have now entered the hot zone.
You're not by any chance the Jackson Curtis who wrote Farewell Atlantis? I read a couple of your short stories in college.
The critics said I was naïve, an unabashed optimist.
The Earth's crust is destabilizing.
All our scientific advances, our fancy machines. The Mayans saw this coming thousands of years ago.
You know, a cell phone's something we have to talk about as a family.
They're building spaceships.