From the Crow’s Nest
by CLINT YOUNTS
As most native Texans know, TV folks issuing weather forecasts are seldom on the money. There are lots of gullible people who alter their entire weekend plans because of some prediction made by some nerd standing in front of a map, but I just don’t put much faith in these prognosticators. But the local weather wizard isn’t the only soothsayer causing folks to fret the future.
Back on May 21, we were all supposed to die. Yup, that was the day that we were all supposed to meet our maker. I heard some talk a while back about this day of doom, somebody saying that we’d better be wearing our comfortable shoes because there’s gonna be a long line waiting in front of the Pearly Gate, but I didn’t mark the day on my calendar. According to Christian radio personality Harold Camping, Judgment Day was definitely going to occur on May 21, 2011 and then on October 21, the end of the world would occur. By using some hair-brained mathematical equation, pulling numbers from the Bible and other sources, this rust-bucket of nuts said, without a doubt, the Rapture was going to occur on the 21st of May.
Now, why weren’t we told about this sooner? How come there wasn’t some telecast from the Oval Office like in those sci-fi flicks? If I had known that I’d be dead on the 21st of May, I wouldn’t have paid my Visa bill the week before. I could’ve saved all that money and bought some good beer instead of that case of Milwaukee’s Best. I would’ve had dessert with my huge steak dinner on the 20th, knowing that Visa bill will never show up in my mailbox in a few weeks. If I had known the end of my life was a few days off, I doubt I would’ve spent last week cleaning my pool. I know I wouldn’t had spent so much time working in the yard if I had known that there wouldn’t be anyone around on May 22 to complain that the grass is too high.
I was actually down at Port Aransas on May 19 when I was reminded that Doomsday was coming. I had noticed there weren’t many folks on the beach, but I figured it was because of all the seaweed. Had I known that we were all about to be swallowed up by some cataclysmic tsunami or fried like a skillet of calf fries, I would’ve worn my new bathing suit. I wouldn’t want to be wearing my old faded trunks with broken elastic and tar stains while meeting with Saint Peter. That’s one fella you really want to impress. That’s why I got a haircut before we headed to the beach. Plus, if I was going to spend eternity wearing white and sporting alabaster wings, I wanted to have a nice tan.
Despite all my preparations and consternations, I woke up to a beautiful sunrise on Sunday, May 22. Ol’ Reverend Camping must’ve had a touch too much sacramental wine while he was doing his math. Maybe he forgot to carry a one or punched the minus key instead of the plus. It could’ve been some simple mistake, or this diviner DJ is nuttier than an Almond Joy. Well, let’s see who else has predicted the end of the world, shall we?
Most of y’all have heard about the Mayan calendar that had marked December 21, 2012 as our last day on planet Earth. Now, some scholars have claimed that the calendar may be flawed a bit, and the apocalypse may actually occur much, much later.
All this fuss about a calendar drawn up by some dude wearing a loin cloth and buzzard feathers in his hair whose day job was making herbal medicine for all the fellow tribesmen. This is the same goober who thought, “Hey, I bet if we toss beautiful, young virgins into that volcano, it may stop that bothersome rumbling.” If he was a really clever guy, Mayans would’ve tossed the ugly, old nags in the volcano instead. If they were so smart, where is the Mayan empire today? Huh? According to the Mayans, we may or may not all croak right before Christmas 2012, so go ahead and buy your nephew that expensive video game he wants, but just in case Mayans were a bunch of pot heads, keep your receipt.
Guess who else predicted the end of the world? Charles Manson! Yup, he claimed there would be an apocalyptic race war in 1969. He thought he’d get the ball rolling by murdering a couple of people out in L.A., but it turned out that old Chucky was just a psycho and not a psychic.
Television evangelist Pat Robertson, the same fella who tried to run for president back in 1988, predicted the end was near in either October or November of 1982. You gotta wonder if his failed predictions contributed to his failed political career.
Besides, if you are predicting the apocalypse, pick a specific date like the ganja-puffing Mayan priest did. Don’t straddle the fence and sway back and forth, making a prediction like “Um, in October, no, maybe November, you will all perish and meet your maker! But if you are still around in ’88, I’d sure appreciate your vote.”
Now, I’ve only listed the most credible fortune-tellers here. The other soothsayers I researched were total morons. I’m sure some day there will be an end to this planet, but I don’t see any reason to get your panties all bunched up. When it happens, it happens, and there’s not much you can do about it. Keep paying your mortgage and credit card bills. Live life to the fullest. Enjoy today like there will be no tomorrow, and if some ignoramus predicts the end of the world, just ignore him. Even if he gets it right, he won’t be around to say, “I told you so.”
Clint Younts likes to make his own predictions, but we don’t always print them until we find out how many Pearl Lights he drank before writing his column.
