This is a tough one for me, because as I have a very, very strong aversion to predicting the future. But I'll lay out a few thoughts.
Not counting various dreams, I've lived through three or four end of the world scenarios so far. The first I remember was Y2K (lol). Some people freaked out super hard, probably because they were psychologically predisposed to that and the media coverage of it was super overblown because of course that's what the media does because money, but a lot of people just ignored it because it didn't have enough to do with their lives. The next was 9/11, not exactly end of the world but it seemed everybody in the US came up with some reason why they might be next (again, media, money, etc) and were making lots of plans for what if the terrorists blew up the nearby nuclear reactor and all that. Now, for all the problems of people misunderstanding a culture that isn't theirs, I thought the 2012 end of the world excitement was much more interesting. Nobody really *did* anything, but it wasn't really clear what you were *supposed* to do. I had a john who confessed to me that he had been hoping the aliens would finally come and reveal themselves and teach us to love each other. Late 2012 was very disappointing for him as you might guess, but I love this kind of end of the world, where no one's told what it will mean or what to do, so that it's a pocket that each person can put whatever they want into. In this sense, the end of the world is just like the future, but charged with high levels of messianic intensity.
The next thought is that our hopes and our fears are intimately linked. I see a lot of stuff about the fear of a civil war, and I suspect there's a hope there too. And vice-versa with the people who are outspokenly hoping for a civil war.
I'm investing my hope-fear energy elsewhere -- although that kind of scenario can certainly have anarchist implications, I see these as orders of magnitude smaller than the horrors and the consolidation of new states, so I am abstaining from feeding that particular beast. To be honest, I'm much more on a similar page with the john I mentioned above, though I imagine my aliens are probably different from his.
So to answer the question: I think things will be both weirder and more normal than anyone expects. Weirder and weirder in every sense, but also more normal -- not because there is anything but weirdness at the heart of existence, but because it is a weirdness so weird that it gives birth to prolonged periods of banality exactly when we would never expect it.
I have other thoughts that I'll save for the comment section.
