I thought I would take a moment to write a more personal post today, because after 6 p.m. tomorrow night, I really don’t know how many of you will be assumed bodily into heaven, and as I have not accepted Jesus Christ as my personal savior (although I will say he seemed like a reasonably cool guy, with some good ideas, and I’d like to subscribe to his newsletter…and by this I do not mean The Watchtower), I’m probably going to be busy fighting for my life in the post-apocalyptic world, too busy trying not to fall into gaping chasms created by world-wide earthquakes to blog and talk to those of you left behind like myself. So being as this could be the last time we connect, I thought I’d better make it good.
Most importantly, I would like to wish my beloved husband an early “Happy Anniversary,” because our 17th wedding anniversary is on Sunday, and we may not get around to celebrating, what with the aforementioned earthquakes and all. I love you, Honey. First, last, and always. And if you are assumed bodily into heaven Saturday night without me (which could totally happen, because the universe has proven itself to have a gargantuan sense of irony), I’m going to sell your comic books on eBay so I and the dogs can continue to eat until October. If we both go, or I go without you for some reason, forget I said that.
I have to admit, I’m not terribly perturbed about the end of the world, whether it happens this weekend, next month, or whenever. It is my belief that things evolve…people, populations, plants, solar systems, galaxies, universes, and I don’t know that it’s any kind of tragedy, because it happens all the time, over and over, and where one thing disappears, another appears. There is no reason to believe that extinction and reinvention are not the natural order of things, and therefore, inevitable and proper. Fearing for the survival of the human race (beyond the simple, intelligent practice of not shitting where you eat, something any dumb animal understands better than the supposed smart ones—got nuclear waste?) has, to me, always seemed rather arrogant and self-centered. It is, I suppose, our misfortune to be conscious of our impending doom, but it takes a fair amount of hubris to assume we’re so special that the planet is worthless without us. Is the planet worthless without dinosaurs? Dodo birds?
As for my own potential demise, I am not terrified of dying; it could hurt, and granted, I’m not keen on that; and it might be painful for those I leave behind, but seriously, I’m not that important. I take my lot, and do my best with it, and beyond that, I’m not going to stress about it. I’m not going to worry about asteroids or random airplane parts falling from the sky, or wrathful bearded men; in the first case, it’s entirely out of my control. In the second, I’m constitutionally unfit for prostrating myself before a god bent on displaying all the worst traits of humankind—anger, vengeance, exclusivity, ego, heartlessness, manipulation, mass murder. If that’s what he needs from me, he can go pound sand. Any divine energy in the universe I could imagine, in even the vaguest sense, is still vastly short of what anything worthy of being called “divine” must be. If you can draw the lines of it, you’re thinking too small to have any hope of being correct, in my opinion.
Come Sunday morning, when we all wake up like any other Sunday morning, the letdown of these Rapturists is going to be heavy indeed, though I don’t know which will be worse for them–the fact that nobody was assumed bodily into heaven, and it was all b.s. from the get-go, or that maybe people DID ascend to heaven, and they were left behind, as the prophet Kirk Cameron foretold. Hard to be smug and certain when you realize you were duped at best and damned at worst.
And they will have earned any and all mocking that comes their way; their belief that some Oakland preacher has the time of the Rapture dialed in down to the minute, when their own holiest book said that god didn’t even see fit to inform his own kid, defies even the internal “logic” of their religion. Which is nothing new to any reasonable observer, of course. But I’m sure there will be all kinds of interesting recriminations, back-pedaling, and rationalizations, and no one who needs to learn this lesson will. Humans generally show an astounding capacity for avoiding and ignoring truth. I hope the churches that have passed along and promoted this propaganda will be responsible for the wrecked human beings they’ve created; hire them, feed them, clothe them, and otherwise take care of them since they quit their jobs, spent all their money, and gave away all their stuff, because I’m pretty sure they’re not going to get very far in the employment process when they put “Expected the Rapture” on the application under “Reason for leaving last job.”
I’d like to think that the Earth’s insistence on continuing with the usual complement of humans will, once and for all, exempt the rest of us from having to listen to any more of this crap. That’s enough outta you! If you start yapping about the end of the world, any human who hears you is legally allowed and duty-bound to smack you up-side your head.
I’d like to think that; but in order to believe it, I’d have to be the sort of person who believes the world is ending tomorrow because some old coot in Oakland said so. So I’ll see you next week. Same bat time; same bat channel.