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Coming Clean Before the Rapture

There's a gentleman from California named Harold Camping who is the head of a non-profit (suuuure) Christian radio network called Family Stations, Inc. who claims that the rapture will occur on May 21st- this coming Saturday. Not your typical theistic crackpot, Camping used to be a civil engineer and has crunched some biblical numbers to pinpoint the date.

Normally, I wouldn't take this sort of prediction very seriously but the guy is, after all, good with math, only 89 years old and, most importantly, spent millions of dollars on ads, electronic billboards, images on traveling vans, and signs for his acolytes.

If that's not serious, then I don't know what.

Readers familiar with this blog know me to be a bit of a skeptic in regard to religious matters. Hell, who's kidding who, I'm overtly hostile toward and forever mocking any dolt who views the god myth as anything but a fear bag of power and control or- in this instance and most others- a cheap huckster's game to fleece the intellectually incurious.

But this time, I don't know. I could be very, very wrong.

It seems rather bittersweet, however, that if the end times are really here, most of us will have only outlived Osama Bin Laden by a few weeks. Where's the canonic justice in that?

Which is why I'm writing down some confessions here for Jeebus and, vicariously, you. To free myself from past sins and cleanse my spirit wholly. Blood of the lamb and Mississippi rivers sort of bathing and plunging. Just in case I meet that flowing-haired savior with the sinewy swimmer's body this coming Saturday. I want to be at my freshest. I will talc up as well.

I've never been good at this, but here goes- my confessions:

I masturbated often to images/scenarios involving my friend's mothers while finding my sexuality as a youth. I would like it to be known that these diversions were always with procreation in mind and never, simply, to spill seed.

Although I am now a professed vegetarian, I cannot resist the Italian beef/sausage combo at Al's in Chicago. I would willingly gouge the eyes out of a thousand bovines for just one more taste of those delectable sandwiches.

I do not think there is nobility in poverty. Mostly, just a squalor sink full of dirty dishes and screaming, hungry, ugly kids running around.

I stole a Matchbox motorcycle from a department store when I was six. The store went out of business two years later. That guilt has never left me.

I give money to street beggars but really don't want to know them beyond that. I tell myself they're all buskers, playing some form of music without an instrument.

I'm not really scared of an eternity in hell. I've already seen Michael McDonald perform twice.

I constantly tell lies over the phone, but never in face-to-face conversation. Something about the eyes.

I really do admire most of the work of Steven Spielberg despite having taken a critical claw hammer to his skull at every opportunity.

I have dabbled in race hate but, sometimes, those Laplanders get above themselves.

I voted for Republican candidates in the past. Oh, Sweet Christ, forgive me. I couldn't have known.

How's things with your Dad, Jeebus? You need to vent? You've got a shoulder and an ear with me. Fathers can be absolute pricks. I understand.

There are far too many handicap parking spaces per capita for the amount of cripples who drive. 

I have always ignored the dictates of Satan. It has helped that I do not believe in him.

I have based my life philosophy on contrarianism. My behavior has been formulated less by the person I desire to be and more from the person I do not wish to be. Often heard voice in my head says, "What? That asshole? You couldn't possibly!"

I have seen man's exploitation of his fellow man up close and decided to combat it by having a few drinks and a bake when I got home.

I tend to chuckle at the misfortunes of others. My laughs are usually at someone's expense. But, I helped a woman up the other day when she tripped on a supermarket rug. I rushed to her assistance without first snickering. That is progress for me.

While babysitting me around the Christmas holiday, my older sister suggested we peek at our gifts while our parents were out. I agreed wholeheartedly. Then I ratted her out a few days later when the guilt became too great and I thought I wouldn't get to keep my presents. Santa's vengeance is strong!

I own a copy of The Communist Manifesto and have not rejected all of its tenets. Actually, Jeebus may be cool with that in a "to each according to their needs" sort of way.

I've got an aversion to the foot. The absolute ugliest part of the human body. I avoid contact at any cost. So, sorry Jeebus, I won't be bathing yours.

I just don't like dogs. I don't hate them. But, like cops, priests, gout and Mormons, I feel better when they're not around.

I tip well. That's gotta account for something, right?

I have never killed another human being. Except Lewis Grizzard. Pretty sure his demise was directly attributable to my hatred for him. Particularly since I willed cancer onto that unfunny motherfucker.

I've never hired a hooker. But I have paid dearly for sex.

Everyone who has ever met me, despite my bristly exterior, finds me to be a good guy deep down inside. I am not. I'm actually that surface prick with some rote social manners instilled in him during childhood.

Being a passive, thoughtful, liberal thinker is ideal, but sometimes I really want to stomp some ass.

"Turn the other cheek" is a phrase I'm more apt to use at the culmination of a blowjob.

I have always found the Nazis to be quite stylish in appearance.

There has got to be some Armageddon loophole for a guy who picks up his cat and coos "Schmoopie Poopie".

I hope this helps you Jeebus, in your judgment of me come crunch time. I've tried to live an honest life without the church. Maybe you can forgive me for continually trashing the organizational offshoots of your teachings. You know- charlatans, false prophets, "healers", greed-heads using your name for a dime, the capitalists, Mormons, the Pope and his minions, homophobes, missionaries bringing horror to the "savages", snake handlers, cultists, Adventists, televangelists, politicians, racists, Intelligent Design proponents, flagellants, witch burners, the Spanish Inquisition, the Crusaders, Southern Baptists, Armageddon authors, pinch-faced small town gossipers, tent revivalists, censors, nosy neighbors, self-righteous jackasses, proselytizers, door-to-door god salespeople, "universities" without actual science, "straight campers", indoctrinators, frightened parents, etc. Or, perhaps, what many of your earthly minions have said about you all along is true. You are a forgiving sort who finds the good in people. Here's to that aspect of your attributed conscience. It probably doesn't help that I've always called you "Jeebus", does it? Anyhoodle, please keep an open mind when we meet. I have many good qualities and talents that could serve you and your staff well in the years to come. Attached please find my resume with email and phone number. I'd be happy to answer any and all of your questions and look forward to our interview. Since it's a Saturday, maybe drinks and some parlor games afterward? Just a suggestion.

If at all possible, I would rather not be immersed in flames for all eternity. If this is all some sort of practical joke, however, well, go fuck yourself.


C. Adolph Moores

Reader Comments (3)

*pssst* Not to cast aspersions on the credibility of the man foretelling Saturday's ethereal clam bake, but apparently Harold Camping previously predicted the world would end in 1994. Perhaps that was just a test run.


May 20, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterKris E. O.

Yeah. I think he said his math was a little fuzzy or he used an incorrect variable or something. Or he's stark raving mad. Either way...

May 21, 2011 | Registered CommenterC. Adolph Moores

"There are far too many handicap parking spaces per capita for the amount of cripples who drive."

I'll surely burn in Hell for many other things, but it's always been my personal theory that the handicapped are just too damn stubborn and prideful to use the resources that have been rightfully granted to them. I suppose some of them are just those "spoiled" handicapped people with electric wheelchairs.

I can't honestly ever recall pulling into the parking lot at Publix and saying to myself "Well, this sucks! All the handicapped parking spaces are full today."

Pride. Isn't that one of the seven deadly ... WTF???


May 21, 2011 | Unregistered Commenterjjmitch21

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