The End of Days?

Yesterday on Facebook I noticed a few people were commenting about the world ending on Saturday.  I saw enough comments to get me interested in what the heck this was all about.  Because I pretty much live in a cave - or perhaps better described as a "bubble" surrounded by Mac-n-Cheese, Dora and sippy cups - I hadn't heard that some quack named Harold Camping is predicting the world will end on May 21st at 6 p.m.  (I'm not sure what time zone he's referring to, so I can't help ya there.)

Anyway this delusional man has convinced himself using "fuzzy math" and numerology that the Bible has revealed (in secret code that only he can decipher, of course) that Armageddon will occur on May 21, 2011.

What makes Harold so special?  Well, he's managed to dupe his followers into contributing $12 million to help him build radio stations, called Family Radio, all around the world to spread his cultish point of view.  He's sort of the Wolfman Jack of religious cults.  The mainstream media caught wind of his prophecy, and now we're off and running.

I hope I don't sound anti-Christian; if you think I do then you've really missed my point.

You see, I am anti-nut case.  I firmly believe that only God knows when the end will come.  Anyone who believes he knows more than God or has unveiled God's secret "code" is a certifiable nut job.  Anyone who convinces others his prophecies are Truth and lives lavishly off their donations is a manipulator of the highest order.

Correct me if I'm wrong: the Bible warns of false prophets, right?  A few of them in recent history are David Koresh, Jim Jones, Marshall Applegate... and all are dead.  Each committed suicide.  Interesting, eh?

Another interesting point is Camping also flapped his mouth about the world ending in 1994 - but no one seems to mention that.  I guess it kind of spoils the fun.  Honestly, why would anybody give this manipulative psychopath the time of day?

Why am I even blogging about him?

I guess, perhaps like the rest of the sane world, it gives me something to talk about.  And I do appreciate the comedy relief.

Crazy bastards always amuse me.

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