Monday, May 23, 2011

Paradise Postponed. Again.

So, Paradise has been postponed, yet again. An elderly gentleman named Harold Camping predicted the Rapture on Saturday last, for the second time, it would seem. The first time in 1994 was a non-event because of less-than-perfect arithmetic and this one seems to have gone the same way. Poorly applied algorithms aren’t very reliable, unfortunately.  It’s now Monday, and I and all my believing friends seem to be all present and correct. My heart almost missed a beat when the principal failed to show up for work, but it transpired that he'd gone to Africa, not Paradise.  Nevertheless, scare tactics work as expectations of the Rapture have spurred so many interesting new business ventures for those willing to take a few risks.
There are a number of key problems with the Rapture as a business opportunity: first of all that many regular and loyal customers are looking forward to it, so presumably won’t be around for repeat sales. No worries. Unrighteous Mammon has ways around the absence of God.
Rapture businesses want to make your Rapture experience as uncomplicated, worry-free and profitable as possible. Here’s an example. A company called “Eternal Earth-Bound Pets” will take care of your abandoned dog or cat once you’ve been whisked off in the twinkling of an eye to bask in the presence of the Lord. The company charges $135 for the first animal companion and then $20 for each additional, payable in cash in advance - no cheques or credit cards. Further, the company promises it will still be around on the 22nd because, “…each of our representatives has signed an affidavit affirming that that they do not believe in God or Jesus, and that they have blasphemed suitably in accordance with Mark 3:29, thus negating any chance of salvation.” Pet counselling can be arranged for an additional charge. Unmissable, really, and certainly one less thing to fret about.

The Almighty was unavailable for comment although it was rumoured that there was a stony silence in  heaven for over half an hour since a senior seraph remarked that they hadn't seen Him quite this ticked off since Pat Robertson blamed a tsunami on the gays.
Excellent. I now see that my car service has been completed and I can be on my way very shortly. Home that is, not Heaven, traffic permitting.
One final, spooky little thought. Oprah is doing her final taping this week. Oblivion surely crooks its bony finger. Very soon.


  1. I, knowing my limitations, do not use algorithms of any sort to predict anything at all, least of all any event for which G-d the Father has declared Himself solely responsible. Mr. Camping must be on his way to oblivion, hopefully by choice. I would love to be a mouse in the corner when he does finally get to Paradise. Oh yeah.
    Bosa has been duly warned that I will not be paying anyone to care for his abandoned self should the Rapture happen before he himself departs this mortal coil. He gecked me.

  2. Poor old chap. He's eighty-nine, so I guess the arithmetic skills aren't quite as formidable as they were a while back. He'll end up in Remedial Math 1, I suspect.
    That beast you share a house with ( a pet might be beyond imagination), not HM, the other a survivor. If and when the Day arrives, he will be scavenging efficiently and making friends with the unredeemed.

  3. John, how about a rousing chorus of "I wish we'd all been ready " (Larry Norman)... and another thing, it's time you were here recording, you need to get those songs down, I need the get here when you can (Is that another song ?)


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