With a tear in my eye and a lump in my throat I regret to say that this will be the last ever post in this blog that we’ve lovingly come to know as “That one where he occasionally bangs on about something we’re vaguely interested in” or “The one where I really think he’s lost interest in making that Master Chief armour because he hasn’t mentioned it for ages”.
It’s been nice knowing you all, and on the whole it’s been fun. Except for that hurtful comment you said back in February. The hit count shows I have a healthy number of readers spread throughout the entire world, albeit most of them only interested in the Big Fat Gypsy Wedding post I did a while back – for some odd reason it’s by far and above the most popular post I’ve ever done with dozens of new readers a day, and for the life of me I can’t figure out how. It doesn’t seem to be linked to from anywhere, and I just don’t know how they’re finding it. Perhaps it’s linked to by the Big Fat Gypsies I mocked, who are advancing on my property in order to tarmac it beyond recognition or to sell me pegs or lucky heather.
But sadly, all good things must come to an end. Although in theory I could keep churning this stuff out forever, the cataclysmic events which will unfold tomorrow make keeping a blog redundant. Namely that what we know as society will begin its inevitable spiral into chaos hastening us towards the end of the planet in October 2011.
For tomorrow cometh The Rapture, an event of such magnitude that it’s not only grammatically correct to capitalise both the “T” and “R”, but it is illegal not to do so. Putting it in bold increases your score on the great tally card by which we shall all be judged.
Basically armed with a well thumbed copy of the Bible and mathematics (of which I guarantee you believe in at least one of) Harry Camping (a person and not a hobby, before you ask) has calculated the exact date and time of The Rapture, that designated time when Gods elect will be taken to Heaven whilst all us heathens have to sit out the next six months before the world finally ends. So basically we get all their stuff. Bagsy Billy Grahams fleet of private gold plated jets.
Pastor Harold Camping had previously predicted the world was going to end in 1994, presumably blaming it on the fact that his Casio calculator was manufactured by Heathens who deliberately made him miss a decimal place. Breaking news: He was wrong. But he seems utterly convinced that his calculations are now completely accurate - and a fair few others are convinced too.
"Don't move too slow, 'cause the man from Mars is through with cars, he's eatin' bars!
Yeah, wall to wall, door to door, hall to hall, He's gonna eat 'em all."
And by “Man from Mars” she clearly meant “Earthquake” and by “eating bars” she meant “destroying New Zealand first”.
Rapture was released in 1991, which was 20 years ago, and wasn't it for that EXACT PERIOD OF TIME that Samson had judged Israel? And the EXACT PERIOD OF TIME that Jacob spent at Laban trying to escape? And did God not ask Moses to perform a census on all Israelis being TWENTY YEARS OR OLDER? It's also a little known fact that the song Union City Blue carefully describes the destruction of the Twin Towers, but that's a blog post for another day. Another day THAT WE DON'T HAVE.
Like a finely tuned piece of clockwork, the pieces slide and click together as we plunge headlong into the final days of Earth...
So, if you're one of the lucky chosen Elect that is taken - thanks for the stuff. If you're not, I look forward to seeing you next week in our Mad Max style post apocalyptic future. As I don't drive, I may require a lift.