Apocalypse not quite yet
THIS really is too much. Californian preacher Harold Camping has let us down. Here am I slaving at the keyboard again, even though Pastor Camping told us the world was definitely going to end on Saturday, May 21, 2011. Deadlines, deadlines … nothing has changed.
Okay, he got it wrong before, in 1994, but all the same there was quite a vibe this time, especially in Russia where posters all over the place predicted the Apocalypse.
I suppose most of us are rather pleased the Pastor got it wrong again, in spite of the unpleasantness and wickedness of so much of the world these days – noisome politicians, nauseating celebrities and the wretched performance of our rugby team. We would rather soldier on in spite of it all. On the whole, I would rather be slaving at the keyboard.
But what if I had taken Pastor Camping seriously? What if I had, in the run-up to the supposed Apocalypse, bought a Rolls Royce on tick, run up a huge bar bill at the Oysterbox and proposed marriage to a girl, believing I would never be held to account for my responsibilities?
I say Pastor Camping is guilty of gross irresponsibility. Give me any day the ecclesiastics of the 17th century, such as James Ussher, Anglican Archbishop of Armagh, and Dr John Lightfoot, Vice-Chancellor of Cambridge University. These worked with clarity, precision and a sense of responsibility, Ussher calculating that the earth was created at nightfall on October 23, 4004 BC and Lightfoot adding that man was created at nine o'clock in the morning next day.
This was sensible and responsible research. Nobody was induced to buy a Rolls on tick, run up a bar bill or propose marriage.
This modern world … where does it end?
All bases covered
MEANWHILE, the Corner Cafe was covering all eventualities. A blog to customers last Friday read:
"Dear loyal customers who are about to die, the opening times are very simple. If the world ends tomorrow as predicted then we will be closed for the day.
"The good news is … I'll open another coffee shop in the next life. That's right, we will call it "Apocalyptic Cafe" and I won't make the same mistakes as this time round. We will not stock decaff, it will be a kid free zone, non-smoking, - and I'll hire only ex-Hooters girls."
"We are expecting a last minute rush today just before we close, so get here early."
The blog attracted a couple of interesting comments:
· "Why don't you stay open and be the restaurant at the end of the universe?"
· "So can I bring 10 friends in later and pay you on Monday? I am short of cash as I'm going to hire a Ferarri and crash it into a tree."
I presume this is the Corner Cafe in Glenwood – but I suppose it could be a Corner Cafe anywhere in the world, such is the all-encompassing nature of the blogosphere.
Follow instructions
READER Gray Braatvedt says he's still recovering from the stiffness occasioned by last week's municipal election.
"When I got to the ballot box I read a sign saying: 'Fold in Four'. It was awful, I'm so unfit I can hardly touch my toes!"
Changes
VOICEMAIL message: "I'm not available right now, but thank you for caring enough to call. I'm making some changes in my life. Please leave a message after the Bleep. If I do not return your call, you're one of the changes."
Tailpiece
A middle-aged woman is in a pet shop, looking for something to keep her company. She recoils in horror from the ugliest frog she has ever seen. But then the frog winks at her.
What the heck! She buys it and puts it on the passenger seat of her car to drive home.
As they go along, the frog croaks at her: "Kiss me and I'll turn into a handsome prince."
What the heck! She kisses him. And, sure enough, the frog turns into an absolutely gorgeous, sexy, handsome young prince.
Then he kisses her. And suddenly the middle-aged woman feels herself transforming.
What does she turn into? A Holiday Inn, what else?
Last word
Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some hire public relations officers.
GRAHAM LINSCOTT
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