When the world ends in 2012 — as the Mayans and all of today’s scientists have predicted it will — lists carefully compiling the best stuff will become increasingly important to the human race.

As the world’s final days expire, and we witness the terrible beauty of the demon wolf Fenrir cresting in the Northern sky, we’ll gather our loved ones close and read from careworn copies of Entertainment Weekly’s “50 Best High School Movies” and Bowhunter magazine’s “Top 20 Deer Ruttin’ Spots.”

And, maybe, The Joplin Globe’s music columnist’s “Top 10 Albums of the ’00 Decade.”

1. Marnie Stern, “This Is It and I Am It and You Are It and So Is That and He Is It and She Is It and It Is It and That Is That.” Perhaps my love for this album is outsized and beyond reason, but it’s so optimistic, unrelentingly upbeat and teeming with virtuoso do-it-yourself guitar heroics and frenetic drumming that it’s become my prescription-free Zoloft and inspirational self-help book in one convenient package.

2. Of Montreal, “Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?” Cognitive dissonance never sounded so inviting. Kevin Barns’ bleak lyrics about grappling with depression and a rocky marriage would logically call for minor chords and a stark, acoustic sound. Instead Barnes paired his depression with some of the most rapturous, upbeat pop music of his career and the decade.

3. The Strokes, “Is This It.” I suppose an argument could be advanced that this album’s style-driven Velvet Underground-derived pop rock is too slight to be considered truly great. To which I would say, “You’re slight.” (I never made the debate team.)

4. Ghostface Killah, “Fischale.” I love “Supreme Clientele” — the normal go-to choice for best Ghostface album — but I prefer “Fishcale.”

Here’s what I wrote about it in 2006: “My first favorite moment occurred in the second track, ‘Shaky Dog,’ when Ghostface’s rap builds in intensity toward the climactic scene of a drug deal going south. Shots are fired, and the incredulity in Ghost’s voice when he delivers the line ‘and I’m on the floor like holy s---!’ is perfect. Since then, this album has given me a few dozen favorite moments. No matter how many times I listen, it’s never short of riveting.”

5. Spoon, “Kill the Moonlight.” Spoon had an incredible decade. Every release from “Girls Can Tell” onward is a monument to the band’s consistent greatness, but Spoon perfected its singular, uber-efficient pop aesthetic with “Kill the Moonlight.” The songs’ minimalism gives the illusion of space — as if you can walk around the three-dimensional sounds of the individual instruments — but the tight rhythm ensures you’ll do more bopping than walking.

6. The White Stripes, “Elephant.” This CD shows a band at the height of its powers. By this, the band’s fourth album, White was already considered something of a guitar god, but “Elephant” is where I began to appreciate the versatility of his voice.

His falsetto is great on “Seven Nation Army,” and if a song needs an injection of hysteria, he’s the master at weird upper-register sing-shrieking, which he dabbles a bit with here on one of my favorite Stripes’ songs, “Girl, You Have No Faith in Medicine.”

“Black Math” completely rules, “The Hardest Button to Button” is a catchy stomper, there’s a great Bacharach cover in “I Just Don’t Know What to Do with Myself,” and you have the seven-minute testosterone-fueled jam “Ball and Biscuit.” If only “Hypnotize” had been a Biggie cover.

7. Kanye West, “Late Registration.” Kanye is a touch insufferable lately, but no one can deny the greatness of this album. It not only includes West’s best song — “Gone” — but its singles were unstoppable: “Drive Slow,” “Gold Digger,” “Diamonds from Sierre Leone,” “Touch the Sky” and “Hey Mama.”

8. The Exploding Hearts, “Guitar Romantic.” Power pop with its sound levels pushed to the red is a perfect idea that no band’s properly explored since most of the Hearts died in an automobile wreck shortly after this album’s release.

9. Deerhunter, “Microcastle.” I connected with this album big-time last year. Here’s what I wrote: “These song long for stasis, with much of the music possessing a creeping, encroaching quality while Cox’s pretty coo of a voice and his lyrics convey the emotional paralysis — that desire to never change, and the trap that desire presents. Throughout ‘Microcastle’ there is a palpable fear of the future, of wanting to stop and stay rooted in the moment, but as Cox sings over and over again on one of the album’s finest songs, ‘It never stops.’”