PresentTense:We're doomed. You probably know this already, given that the headlines are far from coy on the matter. Only a few weeks ago one Sunday newspaper carried the front-page promise of "Apocalypse soon!", writes Shane Hegarty.
Just hang in there. The end really is nigh. And here's a free CD to keep you entertained in the meantime.
It's really quite thrilling, this spiral into economic catastrophe. Much of the media deals in the currency of bombast and exaggeration, and this gives them the opportunity to spend quicker than any of their SSIAs does.
It's all about "collapse" and "ruin" and portends of an economic wasteland populated by beggars looking for some spare change to help support their two children and three Bulgarian apartments.
And like all good apocalyptic stories, it contains the implication that this is payback for our hubris. During the boom years, the media focused on our supposed moral decay, on a country driven wild by greed - up to our nose in cocaine and shoes we'd wear only once.
Now, there is the hint of economic decay to match it and the suggestion is that it's all we deserve. This is the Irish way. We are always dragged back to our roots.
There has long been a lingering sense that we shouldn't be allowed enjoy our success. It goes all the way up to the finger-wagger-in-chief, President Mary McAleese, who has, on more than one occasion, told us to mind ourselves and not to get too carried away. To carry our shopping bag in one hand and our conscience in the other.
After which, she has then jetted off to some foreign paragon of good conscience - say, for example, China - and implored people there to buy Irish and buy often.
Elements of the press, meanwhile, have revelled in both the high living and low lives of the boom's youth.
They glamorise the young, brash and rich while simultaneously tut-tutting at their antics. They keep readers titillated and scandalised and, en route, they created a picture of a country in which anyone under the age of 30 spends their day snorting, boozing, flashing and happy-slapping.
Now, they can pounce on the possibility of economic slump and stoke it up until things begin to rumble away like it's the last days of Pompeii.
Much of this is about the simple thrill of a good old-fashioned bad news story, and one which strikes a note with every reader. Doom always makes for a better story than boom. Plus, it's easier to write. It offers far more dramatic adjectives.
This is not a fresh trend.
The doomsaying began in earnest after 9/11, when the economy took a dip and the country held its collective breath until finally realising that we hadn't been too badly affected by the fallout. Nevertheless, ever since that economic knock, we've been dizzy with the prospect of doom and disaster.
The Celtic Tiger has been declared dead many times in those six years. Last year, RTÉ's economics editor, George Lee covered his bases nicely by declaring that "the Celtic Tiger has been dead for five years". But finally, he may now have a situation gloomy enough to match his tone of voice.
Maybe this is the end. Maybe declining exports, a slowing construction industry, job losses, rising interest rates and helpful estate agents really are portents of doom. Some other commentators in the media have suggested that we should hold back on the pessimism and focus on the statistics rather than the headlines, but such moderation has tended to get shouted down by the Chicken Licken coverage elsewhere.
Whatever the case, the boom will have to end some day. But when we've stockpiled our Voss water, organic hand-made chocolate and pink lemonade and faced into the apocalypse it will be interesting to see if, in the inevitable bout of recrimination, the media has a look at its own headlines.
It's one thing reporting the trends of an economic slowdown, but it's another to almost wish it to happen for the sake of good copy.
Nobody is suggesting that they should be blindly optimistic, but the relentless insistence that we are really, really screwed this time is likely to feed into the public consciousness.
There are many reasons why consumer confidence is wavering, but fat, scary headlines must be somewhere among those.
As they gleefully prod their apocalyptic fantasies towards reality, it takes on an almost masochistic tone given that they work in a business that is heavily reliant on advertising.
When the sky does fall in, and the collapse in advertising revenue follows, the journalists and headline writers may even get their chance of a walk-on part in the bad news story.
That'll make for an exciting judgment day indeed.