I don't do free commercials in this blog. Not even my own, really. If someone has something to sell, he can do it without me.

However, while surfing the net I ran across a site and book that caught my attention. Journalist Alan Weisman painted the mother of all doomsday scenarios with his book, "The World Without Us." I haven't picked up this book -- yet -- but it's found its way on my must-read list.

For some morbid reason, apocalyptic literature fascinates me. I dug Stephen King's "The Stand," and read it several times. But it's actually kind of tame compared to Weisman's thought experiment. In The Stand, mankind was not obliterated, but a remnant was still there to rebuild some semblance of society. Really kind of a recurring theme in literature -- plenty of examples in writing as far back as the Book of Genesis. In Weisman's book, ain't nobody there but the chickens, cockroaches, and random wildlife.

Here's a sample of Weisman's thought process: what would be left if humans suddenly died out? Given our lousy housekeeping a species, a lot. In 100,000 years, carbon-dioxide levels may revert back to where they were before humans showed up. Or it may take longer. But there are some shorter-term possibilities, Weisman argues. Within a year, animals will start camping out in our old nuclear reactors, which would have melted down or burned out with nobody at the controls. Head and body lice will become extinct. And as there will be nobody minding our heating systems, Weisman expects a massive dieback of cockroaches within three years. (Now, this flies in the face of my own favorite apocalyptic argument; I always held that the hardy cockroach would inherit the earth.)

Within 20 years the Panama Canal would have filled itself in. Within 100 years, elephants will have a population boom, but feral former housecats will provide enough competition for raccoon and fox that those animals' numbers will decrease.

New York City gets special attention. Here's what Weisman says about the fate of America's largest city, according to an interview posted in worldwithoutus.com:

"Within two days, without pumping, New York's subway would impassably flood. Within twenty years, water-soaked steel columns that support the street above the East Side's 4-5-6 trains would corrode and buckle. As Lexington Avenue caves in, it becomes a river. In the first few years with no heat, pipes burst all over town, the freeze-thaw cycle moves indoors, and things start to seriously deteriorate. Plugged sewers, deluged tunnels and streets reverting to rivers will conspire to waterlog foundations and destabilize their huge loads, toppling structures. Gradually the asphalt jungle will give way to a real one."

If you've got the time and a fairly fast connection, here's a slideshow of what Weisman expects will happen to Manhattan. And you thought your tract home was jury-rigged and won't last? Gee, it's a lot more solidly built than anyone thought.

Some other, longer-lasting legacies: Our paper-or-plastic culture will leave some real souvenirs. It'll take "hundreds of thousands" of years for microorganisms to evolve to the point where they can biodegrade our plastic. So when they do show up, there'll be plenty to eat.

Weisman believes the Earth will burn out after about five billion years (be sure to mark your calendar) as the dying sun expands. But human legacy will live on, in our radio and TV transmissions. Sure, they'll get garbled over time, but they'll continue to travel outward forever.

Our longest-lasting legacy will be reruns of Gilligan's Island. Which speaks volumes about the human race.