So this past weekend held the date that Harold Camping, the 89-year-old prognosticator, said God himself would come back and take away the chosen, in preparation for turning the Earth into Hell. Or something like that. The point is, Saturday came and went, and, if you're reading this, you're still here. Which means one of two things: One, you're a naughty person who didn't get taken up to meet glory, or Two, it was all a load of bull-feathers.
Guess which one I'm betting on.
To make matters even more hilarious, Camping has revised his apocalyptic prophecy to say OCTOBER 21 instead. While I'm not about to crap on anyone else's beliefs, I do have my own end-of-the-world beliefs that I'd like to share. They're a little controversial, so don't read further if you don't want that sort of thing mucking about in your head. Here it is, when the world will end and the human race will cease to exist:
First, it won't. Second, they won't. Here's why.
No matter what we do to the planet, drill, pollute, etc, Mother Nature will come around, shake us off and heal. It's what she does. Granted, she needs pesky little parasites like us to be elsewhere when she does it, but that doesn't change the fact that the Earth can heal. Moreover, even if it doesn't, the human race can and will adapt. If anything, we've proven that's what we do. No matter how badly we screw things up, we adapt and live with it. We're stubborn that way. As to the second point, sure, we may not live here, but we are the only species on record (with the possible exception of dolphins, mice, and Time-Lords) who can control our environment and can determine our own destiny. Lets say, for example, a big rock is heading toward the earth. We have two options: First, go out there and kill it before it kills us. Second, figure out how to survive a planet-crushing impact. While half the world will be working on the second option, half will be working on the first (I like to picture that half as wearing flannel, mullets, and screaming YEE-HAW every three seconds). We will not go gentle into that, or any other, good night. When the earth can no longer sustain us, we humans are collectively such pig-headed asses that we'll find some other place to screw up.
Sure, in a thousand years, maybe 10,0000, the human race won't be recognizable, but so what? It's called adaptation. Evolution. We survive. It's what we do.
And, in the event that some celestial boogie-man is going to claim his faithful and end all life on the planet, what makes you think that you, Mr. Camping, the Pope, or ANYONE is going to know about it? What makes you think that, in the grand scheme of things, we are important enough for the Almighty to put us into his shared calendars so we'll know when the end of times is coming? All the predicting, prognosticating, postulating and puffery does nothing but confuse the issue. You won't know when it's coming. If you're a Christian, it's written in your holy book in First Thessalonians, chapter 5, verse 2: "...the day of the Lord so cometh as a thief in the night." That means that, even if you're a Christian, even if you live the most pious of lives, even if you're the God-blessed freaking POPE, you won't know when it's coming. No one will. And anyone who says they know when it's coming is either crazy or selling something.
I don't care what your beliefs are. I don't care if you're Christian, Bhudist, Pagan, Muslim, Hindu, Jewish, or Pastafarian. No one will know when the end is coming unless it comes at our own hands. And then we have only ourselves to blame.
Now quit worrying about it, and get back to living your lives!