Shame On You, Shame On Me

I've had several of my faithful followers ask me to comment on the events of last weekend; you will recall that the Christian commentator, Harold Camping, predicted that, according to his interpretation of the mathematics in the Bible, the world would end on May 21st.

As of May 22nd, we're still all here. Gee, what a surprise.

Camping now admits that his calculations for the original "doomsday" were incorrect and that, after recomputing the numbers, the new date for the final day of our existence is now October 21st. (Hey, he only missed by five months; predicting the end of the world must be a lot like horseshoes and hand grenades, all you gotta' be is close.)

My position as Pope of the All John All The Time World Church requires that I make some observation about Mr. Camping's predictions; however, I'm inclined not to do so. As I told one of my flock the other day, commenting on Camping and his nonsense is like picking a fight with a third-grader; it's not much of a challenge.

But I'll say this much, and then get on to the rest of my life: a very wise gentleman once remarked to me that if you fooled him once, shame on you. If you fooled him a second time, shame on him.

And while I feel some degree of compassion for the families of the people who were already taken in by this lying piece of camel dung, guess what?

If you buy into his bullshit a second time, shame on you.

And maybe I shouldn't say this, but for my money, if you bought into it the FIRST time, shame on you.

Mr. Camping, do all of us that have some sense a favor: shut up and go away. You're wasting good oxygen that one of the rest of us could be using. No one with an IQ of over room temperature believes your garbage anyway, so spare us, okay?

Dean Acheson, who was the Secretary of State under President Harry Truman, and was a highly intelligent and principled gentleman, once remarked, in reference to the First Amendment's "freedom of speech" clause, that "Freedom of speech is a restraint on government, not an incitement to the citizen."

In other words, Harold, just because you have the right to speak doesn't mean you necessarily should.

I suppose the next thing you'll tell us is that the Cubs will win the Series this year, when anyone with any knowledge of the Bible, err, of the MLB and baseball know the Dodgers are going all the way this year.

(Waits until laughter dies down to continue.)

Yeah, and next week Earth will receive a cryptic yet decipherable message from somewhere in deep outer space, explaining how to build an incredible machine that will allow us to accelerate several astronauts to the Speed of Aroma and deposit them on the shore of a mysterious beach that faces a vast, placid ocean on an unknown planetoid in the Aldoran Nebulae, after they all turn a bright chartreuse pink and grow a left-handed tentacle. And a third eye. No, wait, that was the basic plot of the book (and movie) "Contact", except the part about the turning chartreuse pink and growing a tentacle and a third eye; I made that part up. (Hey, I've had girlfriends whose looks would have been vastly improved by turning chartruese pink and growing a left-handed tentacle and a third eye.) (Several.)

Hey, Harold, when you can accurately predict the stock market and this year's NBA Finals winner (Mavericks), lemme' know, because then you're onto something useful.

Unlike yourself.

Love and Nostradamus,

PJTT

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