It's time I had some time alone

0
HOUR

!!!

So . . . anyone feel that earthquake?

Anyone?

Bueller?

Birthday party, cheesecake, jelly bean, boom!

1
DAY

 . . . DIE

Update: On last evening's Open Forum program, Harold Camping made his swan song. There will be no program tonight, as he will (understandably) be spending it with his loved ones. No doubt it's a few hours of respite before the arduous task of watching the Mother of All Rolling Earthquakes unfold on CNN. The Rapture will be televised, after all.

Whether Camping will return to the airwaves after his inevitable humiliation, however, remains to be seen.

Meanwhile, you might find it interesting to watch the YouTube videos of EzekielThirtyThree3, who has been documenting Harold Camping during these last few weeks of the world. The quality of the documentary is actually pretty good. But I can't decide whether he is sincerely chronicling the end of the through the eyes of its chief prophet, or if he's a disgruntled Family Radio employee documenting the last gasp of an old fool who didn't learn his lesson from his first failure in 1994. The over-the-top, dramatic low camera angles of Captain Camping preaching from a large pulpit look to me like some kind of Triumph of the Will pastiche.

Offer me solutions, offer me alternatives and I decline

2
DAYS

 . . . GONNA . . .

A tournament, a tournament, a tournament of lies

3
DAYS

 . . . ALL . . .

Slash and burn, return, listen to yourself churn

4
DAYS

 . . . WE'RE . . .

World serves its own needs, listen to your heart bleed

I'm going to listen to Open Forum every day this week. It's bound to be quality entertainment . . .

5
DAYS

THIS IS IT . . .

Six o'clock, TV hour, don't get caught in foreign towers

My friend Ian directed me to this TV news item that was broadcast only a few days ago.

So, Harold . . . we can know the day and the hour?

Captain Camping is hilariously specific: he says that Judgment Day will begin at 6 pm starting at the International Date Line.

Cool. So God's eschatological timetable respects modern time zones, including an imaginary (and completely arbitrary) line, devised because on a spinning globe, it has to be the next day somewhere. I guess that makes Sandford Fleming a prophet. Who knew?

It's a bit confusing what Captain Camping meant, though. Did he mean that the Rapture would occur all over the world at that time? In that case, it will be 2 a.m. in the morning on May 21 here in Ottawa (and the rest of Eastern Daylight Time), and we'll all miss it, unless we go barhopping and drink to the Millennium. Or did he mean that God will do the Wave across the globe, laying down earthquakes at 6 pm local time? That, at least, will make for 20 hours of interesting news before it's our turn.

If nothing else, it's clear that Camping is still making this garbage up as he goes along. Hilariously, he insisted that there is no possibility of being wrong this time. I wonder what he'll be saying on May 22?

Meanwhile, it's still

13
DAYS

until
Captain Camping
Crashes
Calamitously

Left of west and coming in a hurry with the Furies breathing down your neck

Can the
Camping Cultists
Climb Up from
the
Chaos and Confusion
of the
Certain Confutation
of
Captain Camping's
Calculator-Crazy Claptrap?

Find out in
13
DAYS

13 days until May 21, 2011. That's a very unlucky number - for Harold Camping, the pretend prophet who just can't predict the end of the world right, even on the third try. On May 22, the world will see him for the fraud he is, when the Rapture fails to happen on schedule.

Tell you what, Harold. If you're so convinced of your numerological noodlings, write up a binding contract to sell me all the assets of Family Radio on May 22 for the sum of one dollar. If you really have the courage of your convictions, you already believe that you'll need neither the money nor the radio network. Right?

The fact that, so far as we know, no one has made such a deal yet, speaks volumes about Camping's honesty. I think that deep down inside, he knows better than to believe his own drivel.

A blogger's political dream

No, not a Conservative majority after 5 years of minority governments. (Though that's finally nice too.)

But given my choice of blog colours: How many people can honestly say that the entire country matches their drapes?

In one way or another, every party leader made history in last night's election:

• Stephen Harper, for finally winning a clear majority in Parliament and for winning a third consecutive victory - a feat only accomplished by two other Conservatives before him, John A. Macdonald and John Diefenbaker.
• Jack Layton, for finally propelling the NDP from Canada's perpetual also-ran party at the national level to a formidable opposition. And for turning the Bloc Quebecois into a big, smoking crater.
• Michael Ignatieff, on the other hand, for not only losing his own seat, but reducing the Liberal Party to a mere 34 seats - the first time ever that the Liberals have not either been the government or the Her Majesty's Loyal Opposition.
• Elizabeth May, for finally succeeding in getting a Green Party candidate elected: specifically, herself. I guess I can't complain about the Greens being unelectable anymore. (Irrelevant is still on the table, however.)
• And finally, Gilles Duceppe who, in addition to losing his own race, led the Bloquistes to a resounding defeat on the night that Quebecois decided they no longer wanted to be represented by a separatist party with no hope of gaining real power unless they allied themselves with federalists.

Ignatieff and Duceppe have both since announced their resignations as leaders of their respective parties. Like Paulie Gatto in The Godfather, we won't see them no more.

Eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn

The countdown continues:

20
DAYS

until the
Camping Cult
Culminates
in
Confusion
Consternation
and
Chagrin

While hunting up the billboard image in the previous post, I also came across the following graphic, and noted its coincidental date:

I don't know who Sara and Mike are. All I can say is, get used to disappointment, you unfortunate souls. Heh.