As a rule, I try as hard as I can to ignore apocalyptic overtures, especially those generated by the media. The “glass half full” philosophy works well for maintaining a happy disposition; but sometimes, especially recently, it can be tough to maintain.

The mainstream media approached the topic of annihilation with renewed vigor this past summer. The uptick in interest is probably attributable to current events: An increasingly polarized and fragmented electorate; a global financial crisis; turmoil in the Middle East; and a nascent pandemic are the kinds of things likely to have people on edge.

But I resist, as much as humanly possible, the urge to declare that the end is nigh.

Upon first hearing the news this spring about a dangerous new strain of swine flu, transmitting from human to human in Mexico, I shrugged. When the World Health Organization warned that the virus was a potential pandemic, I made a mental note of the development, but basically went about my business. Even after broadcasters began to invoke the infamous Spanish Flu — which killed somewhere between 50 and 100 million people in 1918 — I remained, by-and-large, apathetic to the threat.

And then I received a phone call from my brother, who proceeded to scare my socks off.

Skipping straight past the usual pleasantries, he launched into a blistering 10-minute diatribe, during which he described — in painstaking, technical detail — each and every reason why the virus could and would kill me.

(Apparently it had something to do with its pathology, but I was already too busy stockpiling surgical masks and canned food to absorb all the salient details.)

I was told, in no uncertain terms, that in the extreme likelihood of a pandemic, I was to “get the hell away from civilization” and drive up to Vermont, where I would presumably live in a secluded cabin and eat Ben & Jerry’s until the outbreak subsided.

One phone call did what a barrage of news reports and governmental warnings could not. I was completely, utterly in the grip of Swine Flu Hysteria.

So that you’ll better understand the implications of this anecdote, I should add that Charles — otherwise known as Charlie, Chuck or Chazz: Harbinger of the Apocalypse — has a long, illustrious history of scaring the Holy Jesus out of me, both literally and figuratively.

Flashback to 1999: On a cool winter eve, it dawned on my brother that my development as a person was lacking in certain regards. I was a naïve, porky 12-year-old who played peewee lacrosse, loved Smash Mouth, went to religion class every Wednesday night and wanted to be a Republican. This was unacceptable.

So Chuck, an avowed atheist and (then) anarcho-syndicalist, launched “The 1999 God-is-Dead, Brotherly Reeducation Lecture Series”; to be delivered in my bedroom, at the dinner table, in the car, in the backyard, anywhere, everywhere.

During the most memorable of these educational excursions, he pointedly issued the following rhetorical firebomb: “Do you really believe that God exists?” I ceased slurping my Rockin’ Raspberry Danimal yogurt cup, issued an inaudible protest and then froze, eyes widened like a deer stuck in headlights. The seeds had been planted.

During a family trip to Outback Steakhouse, Chuck explained to my cousins and I how Saddam Hussein had deployed biological weapons on these people called the Kurds, killing a whole bunch of them in the process — then explained that the dictator could do the same to us … at any time … without warning.

Soon thereafter, we tackled the nefarious influence of multi-national corporations; the inevitable failure of American electoral politics; the climate change that would raise the seas and ruin everything we once held dear.

It’s one thing for the Branch Davidians of the world to espouse the Biblical Revelation. It’s quite another when smart and rationale people start to suggest that we’re totally screwed. It’s a little bit alarming.

We respect the opinions of those we look up to and respect, whether they be newspaper reporters or television personalities, fathers or brothers.

But there are so many different theories about our impending destruction — promulgated by such radically different interests — that to get freaked out by all the possibilities is needlessly tiring.

Chuck — You’re crazy smart and actually right more often than not. But sometimes it’s worth it to ignore the hard facts and take a deep breathe.

Swine flu is finally striking the population at large and, sadly, taking lives in the process. But it doesn’t seem to be, as many argued, a doomsday disease, or another Spanish Flu or significantly more deadly than the normal, seasonal flu. Maybe we’ve just lucked out thus far. Maybe worse is to come. Just do what you can to stay healthy, and don’t obsess about the things you can’t control.

Glass half full. Glass half full. Glass half full.