It’s The End Of The World As We Know It

Clear skies with small chance of doom.

It seems odd that the world is supposed to end on a day as beautiful as today. If anything, I would argue that London looks somewhat less apocalyptic than usual. But apparently 21 May 2011 marks the beginning of the end.

That’s according to Harold Camping, an 89-year-old fundamental Christian with a fondness for bringing the doom (he predicted the apocalypse once before in 1994, but maybe it was just seeing Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie Presley kiss at the MTV Awards which shook him up).

According to his website, Family Radio Worldwide, Mr Camping believes that a giant earthquake today will mark the start of the world’s destruction and that by 21 October all non-believers will be dead.

Needless to say, although his campaign has been widely promoted, he’s not winning many friends or influencing people. He has been criticised by mainstream Christians and, according to BBC News, a number of atheists in the US are having a laugh at his expense, planning Rapture After Parties and calling it the ‘countdown to backpedalling”.

I must admit though, it has occasionally occurred to me that the nutjobs lunatics eccentrics who go around preaching that the end is nigh might be onto something. After all, the last decade has seen enough disasters, natural and otherwise, to make us feel that the ground under our feet may not be as solid as we hope.

I hope that today is not my last. Mostly because, if I’m preserved in motion, ‘Pompei’-style, I don’t want it to be as I am now – hunched over a laptop in a gorilla-like nest made of newspapers. I’d hope to be caught doing something grander, like composing a symphony or attempting to backflip out of harms way.

Also, think of how future generations will judge us based on our remains: will we be remembered as the generation who worshipped Lady Gaga, a false idol with a fondness for meat dresses, blood veils and phallic footwear? Will they think Hogwarts was a real place? Will they be convinced that we were primitive beings only able to express ourselves in 140 characters or less? Only time will tell.