I know this because I have to spend tomorrow at a birthday party for a one-year-old. With other children. The only way that could possibly happen is if the world were ending and God decided to send me to hell. And since I am committed to the birthday party, clearly this is part of God’s end-times plan for me.
But if by chance there is no Rapture tomorrow and my afternoon with babies and over-sugared toddlers was just a sucky way to spend a Saturday, well, I can live with that. I mean, apparently most of the people who work for Harold Camping, the 89-year-old nutwagon who came up with tomorrow’s doomsday scenario, believe it’s all a load of crap:
Noticing my notebook, the man looks around to make sure no one else is in the parking lot. He walks over and leans in. “This hasn’t come through in the news reports, but I’d say 85 to 90 percent of the staff doesn’t believe what Camping says. We’re coming to work next week,” says the man, who processes mail for Family Radio.
I’d never heard of Camping before because, strange as this may sound, Tennessee is one of the few states which doesn’t broadcast his crap. I guess that’s because we have plenty of other stations which broadcast similar crap. Which made it so weird when I saw one of his billboards in my neighborhood last December.
Camping has received a lot of attention for an elderly crackpot, and I have to wonder why. People predict the Rapture all the time! And they’re always wrong! So what makes Camping different? I think this New Yorker cartoon might be on to something:
Yes, the Rapture is big business ….