(Photo by Anne Dirkse)
Run to the hills
Run for your lives
– Iron Maiden
I know I’ve been on a tear lately, but I wanted to take a brief moment to wish you all a fond farewell. It’s been grand!
But as you all (may) know, the end is nigh. Again.
Tonight, at 9:11 CST (spooky, right?), the fourth in a tetrad of blood moons will unleash upon us the wrath of God’s judgment. Or so I’m told by John Hagee. And a bunch of other experts no one’s ever heard of before.
I know, I know–we’ve heard it all before. This is, after all, why the Seventh Day Adventists call themselves Seventh Day Adventists and not Millerites anymore. Perhaps you remember Harold Camping and his roadside messages of doom? Or this little book, which in its day was quite the bestseller, and now stands as a tribute to humankind in all our gullible glory? And don’t get me started on the Mayans! How could they do that to John Cusack’s career!?!?
But this time, I assure you, it’s real. I mean, it has to be, right? How else could these folks give us yet another feeble guess with anything approaching a straight face? No, this time…well, I don’t think I’d be remiss in recommending a collective kissing of our asses goodbye.
Tomorrow, if any of us has survived to wander the post-apocalyptic wasteland, feel free to join me here in Waco, and we will feast together on radioactive fish from Lake Waco. (Really, we could do that anyway; everybody knows the fish in Lake Waco are quite possibly radioactive already.)
Duck and cover, my snuggle-bunnies! It’s gonna be a bumpy ride…