So, yeah. You’re going to die soon. Just so you know. The people at We Can Know can even tell you when. To the day. Behold, the End Times:
For the record, this is not a joke. This group of 4 ministries has decided, through biblical prognostication, that the Rapture will, indeed, take place on May 21st, 2011, and that actual end of the world will occur on October 21st, 2011. So, basically, if you’re a Christian, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. Finally, the Word will be proven true, and you will be ushered into Heaven, where you will live out your spiritual days in the warm embrace of a loving God. Conversely, if you are not a Christian, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. All the Christians will be gone, taken from the world in a flash, leaving you with a world bereft of dogmatic Believers who like to shake bells, throw pamphlets at you, and clog up lines at Golden Corral on Sundays. it’s the world you’ve always dreamed of. For five months, anyway. At which time, your little fantasy land gets gobbled up by a God who is perturbed at your sinful ways (but isn’t at all displeased with allowing Miley Cyrus to continue living, go figure). There’s a silver lining, though. You have the next 6 months, and 18 days to do whatever you want , and then you can repent on May 20th, find some Holy-type to dunk you in water, and smile a lot, be fine the next day, and take the G-train to Heaven. Just a thought.
But, maybe you don’t like baths. I don’t know.
If you’re in need of a tutorial, the folks who created the video program at Xtranormal can be thanked for letting our Christian friends make this tutorial:
It’s not as funny as the Geico commercial.
So, where does that leave us? Well, I’ve done the whole bath thing, and been certified Jesusian, but have since reneged on the agreement, and gotten all dirty with sin, and written books that sort of, well, mock the whole process, so I’m guessing that I’m not on the G-train. And since it may have been a one-shot deal–I’m guessing that you can’t have two baths with Jesus in a lifetime, and sell that you’re totally serious about it this time–I have to deal with the reality that I have, give or take being stabbed in the eye, about eleven months in which to enjoy my time on this rock. So, rather than fret about the end of the world, I’ve decided that I’m going out with a bang. I’m sure this list will need some editing, over the period of Doom-to-be that remains, but for now, it’s a start.
- Listen to every Justin Beiber song until I have them memorized. Attend concert on December 23rd at Phillips, and squeal until my voice cuts off. Buy t-shirt. Why not, right? I mean, it’s not the New Kids or anything absurd like that.
- Contact Warner Brothers, and plead with them to move up Deathly Hallows Pt 2 to May 20th (I can just hear it now: “Yeah, I was going to get baptized, but it was either that or watch Harry Potter. Pretty easy choice, I think.”), or to implement a post-Rapture contingency plan to ensure the release of the movie. I’m not dying before I see how it plays out on the big screen.
- Find a booth at Waffle House, and stay there for 24 hours. Eat everything on the menu. Enjoy the next 24 hours, alternating between the toilet and the tub.
- Host a Rapture Party on the rooftop of the tallest building that will accept money. Watch the Christians float into the sky, and create a pool for “number of airplanes crashing into buildings as Christian pilots are taken”. Rig pool so that you win.
- Move into the largest church I can find on May 22nd. Host readings of Apocalypse South every Sunday, readings of Flutter and Anointed every Wednesday and Friday, and change the sign outside to read: “God is good, God is Great, WTF, did I just inherit a Chruch?” Misspell ‘church’ intentionally because Russ Marshalek will want it that way.
- Get a job at Starbucks (because we all know they’ll still be around), and ask to be paid in coffee. Drink only coffee until the world ends. Never sleep again.
- Begin reading the Mark Twain bio. Put it down three days later when it becomes apparent that there isn’t enough time to finish Volume 1.
- Walk part of the Appalachian Trail with an ATV.
- Acquire the most expensive computer available (depending on availability when the looting begins). Strip it of every program, and create a screen saver that reads, “What are you doing, Dave?” Leave it on until the world ends.
Host a “naked party”. Invite no one.
- Watch every Star Wars movie in succession, enjoy them immensely, then write a 400 page letter to George Lucas detailing how much better they could have been if he hadn’t directed any of them. Reference Empire as the platform of awesomeness that it is. Hand deliver to the first person you encounter, and thank them for buying Statewide Rapture Insurance.
- Create a Twitter account for a Christian who you know has been Raptured. Tweet from Heaven. Tell those remaining (I just deleted, “left behind” three times…I just can’t say it.) what they need to do in order to be Saved. Hint: it involves cheese being delivered to my chruch.
- Make enough Kraft Mac N’ Cheese to fill the bathtub. Bathe in it. Bathe in it real good. Like it like you want it, mmmhm.
- Find a replica Darth Vadar costume to wear from October 18th through October 21st. Speak only in Vadar lines, and die with your helmet off.
- Call the ex-wife on May 22nd, and remind her that she didn’t get Raptured either. It goes both ways, apparently.
- Find some D&D goons, and suggest your chruch as a fine place for a week-long campaign. Play all week, so that you can die knowing that you’re a rogue Elf with…
- Learn D&D terminology so as to better define your character before you die.
- Make the trek to Chicago, and find a seat in the bleachers at a sure to be empty Wrigley Field and yell, “you suck!” Do the same in NY at Citi Field and Yankee Stadium, before returning to Atlanta, and Turner Field. Do the chop for six straight hours.
- Call all my friends (none of them will have taken the G-train, for sure), and let them know they don’t have to worry. I’m still awesome.
- Call my Jewish friends, blame them for everything, and say, “I told you this would happen.”
- Find Seth MacFarlane, and thank him for being such a delightful bastard. Let him know that you got yourself checked, and your not retarded.
This isn’t done, but I’m too impatient to save it and wait. Who has ideas?