Showing posts with label Harold Camping. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Harold Camping. Show all posts

2012 - The End of The World is Nigh.


Harold Camping was RIGHT!. We are all going to die, and you dear Reader will be deader than most.

21st December 2012. BOOM! The end of the world. 12:00pm sharp. Don't be late. This is the date the Mayan 13th Bak'tun on their Long Count Calender runs out. (actually it wraps over to the 14th Bak'tun - but we'll ignore that)

The Mayans may have been a stone age civilisation, but they knew (Uh...) "things". Things like, well, Um....

They were in touch with a deeper mystical and celestial presence.
They had reached that deep cosmic Nirvana that our civilisation cannot ever attain.
They were in touch with the inner psyche of the divinity at the centre of existence.
Their karma extended beyond a mere physical existence into a truly eternal Cosmic conscience..

That is why they painted their women's faces blue, then filed down their teeth to points. Finally they made them go boss eyed by balancing a ruby on their nose.

How mystical!
How metaphysical!
And how much money do you have? Arghhhh!..Ignore that last question.

YOU really are DOOMED. YOU are the walking DEAD.

But is that a fat wallet I see?.Hallelujah!!!! There is a way ahead. There is salvation. Remember though, if you have money you simply cannot enter heaven. De Facto.

Rich men and the eye of needle? Remember that?

It's no goodtrying to amend your ways now. Rushing off down the boozer to blow it all on Old Rosie (the Cider of Champions) simply is NOT going to cut the mustard.

Remember this is GOD we are dealing with. Not the planning department at the local council.
Oh OK - bad example - but just because the planning dept think they are gods doesn't make it true.

(In order to be culturally inclusive the following applies to all Welsh, Scots and Irish as well as Canadians, Australians, Yanks, Mexicans, Norwegians and everyone else for that matter, as long as they were born on a week-day or alternatively on the week-end)

Yep. I am talking to ONLY TO YOU my grubby little Englander. YOU are the only one who can be saved by Billothewisp. But YOU Have to agree to be saved.

Let's face it. Otherwise you are stuffed. Unless you agree to be saved then for you, it is an eternity of hell fire and damnation. So what is Hell? Brimstone? Whips? Boiling Oil?

Nah - that's kids stuff.

Hell is being forced to drink gassy alcohol free American lager and watch the X factor all day. The adverts will be filled with no-win no-fee lawyers. If you change channels all you will get is a continual discussion between the two members of JedWard on their understanding of the Schroedinger Wave equation.

Your eyes will be stitched open. Your bladder will be stitched shut. Your mind will be filled with images of a naked Kate Moss - but when she is 85 years old.

Serves you right. But there is hope.
Yes! Billothewisp is here to save you! Don't start thinking about it! Don't start reasoning! That only leads to hell and a wrinkly Kate Moss. What you need to do is divest yourself of all that hellish filthy lucre just laying in your bank account. Billothewisp has broad shoulders. He can absorb the shame. He can soak up the bad karma that flows from (ugh!) money. So, as soon as possible, ensure you send him all those ugly high denomination notes.

When the whole world explodes at 12.00pm 21st December 2012, you can go straight to
the front of the queue into Heaven (celebrity entrance). Just mention Billothewisp.

Be Saved. Send all your money to me! (Metaxa is also accepted in part payment)

You know it makes sense.

Happy New Year.
Love and kisses
Billothewisp.

Billothewisp Predicts Armageddon

Poor old Harold Camping. There he was, probably in desperate need of some psychiatric care when a whole load of other death wishers descended on him and gave him the attention he so desperately sought. Then  they all got carried along with their collective delusion. They walked down  the long pathway to humiliation and international derision together.

Harold's illusion, concerning the proposed end of the world on 21st May was so deeply ingrained in his psyche I have no doubt he truly believed it. Maybe, even now, he is probably "rationalising" some excuse. Some defect in the calculation that would account for the lack of hell fire and brimstone.

In fact Harold has predicted Armageddon twice before: in 1988 and 1994. Obviously slight errors in the calculations must have occurred then as well.

I gather the next populist opportunity for Armageddon is 21st December 2012 when the Mayan Long calender ends. The Mayans, a clever Stone Age people devised a number of different calenders. The one with the greatest duration is known as the Long Calender. It has a fixed start date and it runs out (a bit like 1999 -2000 AD) on 21st December 2012.

If the Mayan civilisation had survived beyond the 16th century to witness this wrap over I expect they would be throwing a big party rather than  waiting for the fiery end.

Today there are many "new agers" eagerly waiting for the 2012 Armageddon. But come January 2013 they will have to endure their version of poor old Harold Camping's humiliation. One consolation for them is that it all fails to kick off in 2012 then there are also end dates prophesied for 2016 and 2034. So there is still plenty of room for paranoia amongst the deluded.

It is easy to view these death wishers as simple nut cases. But it is really rather sad that people, mainly vulnerable individuals, get dragged into these bizarre fairy-tales. There must be something missing in their lives. Some lack of control that forces them to wish for the end rather than a prosperous and progressive world.

Personally, I also believe the world will come to a fiery and cataclysmic  end. But not soon.

I reckon in several billion years the sun will swell into a red giant. and swallow the Earth whole.  The earth will be vaporised along with every life form on it.

But human kind need not worry. They, as a species will have died out aeons before.

So in my Armageddon, there won't even be any Harold Campings around to watch the fiery end, let alone gloat over it.