By Sophia

I know this is late, but hear me out.

As a Sci-Fi fan, I can’t help but be drawn to this concept. A day, seemingly like any other, but maybe your wife isn’t there when you call, or your children seem to have left unnaturally early for school. The news booth with the quiet old man is empty. There are suddenly no homeless people at your bus stop. What the hell is going on?

Or maybe you’re one of the chosen, and you wake up not in your bed, but surrounded by light, a feeling of eternal peace and contentment glowing in your heart.

Revelations is my favorite part of the Bible. Hands down. You’ve got mythological beasts completely covered in eyes, the Four Horsemen, angels blowing trumpets, breaking seals, wiping out one third of this and one third of that like it’s nothing. It’s the most bad ass version of end times, in my opinion. Granted I would piss myself if this ever really happened, but I can’t help but wonder.

I know that if all that stuff is true, then there’s no way we can know when. So Camping should have never even gotten started. But then my brain goes into overdrive and comes up with the craziest theories and I begin to wonder if I’m functionally insane. Which I probably am.


The Mayans and the Aztecs figured it out, completely by accident because they just woke up being bad ass. “Yeah, gonna build some pyramids that correlate with the stars and shit using only stone, basic mortar, and my own two hands. Oh, and my massive genius. BRB. ”

“Cool, man. I’m going to calculate the end of the earth today and then carve it into a giant stone wheel. See you later at the human sacrifice?”

And God, who had already planned everything and told people, No you can’t know! Cause I’m God! Rabble rabble rabble! Was mad pissed so he made the Mayans disappear, but forgot to destroy all their sculptures and stone texts, and then people started digging and got Popul Vuh-ed up on that ish. Completely insane, I know. Full of holes. The ramblings of a mad idiot.


There will be a rapture? No, you’re right that word isn’t in the Bible. Seriously, no where. However, there is a part where the faithful are marked with the name of God on their heads, taken up into heaven, given pimp new robes, and provide the holy soundtrack to the apocalypse. The left over population gets marked with the sign of the beast, can’t buy or sell without it, and live in torturous, murderous wastelands while Satan and his kin party for the last time. So I’m thinking: Social Security Numbers, Barcodes, Microchips, Credit Ratings?! How are they following me??!!! But again, speculative. Unlikely. What happens if someone refused to be marked, even on pain of death? Would rather cut their hand off than live with the mark? Do they get pimp new robes?


This whole thing is more like the Hindu and Buddhist interpretations where the end is not final, but a rebirth. And Shiva has to come do his sexy dance (Have you seen the hips on that guy?) once more to purge the world of sin and sickness. Do we get to start over? Do we remember it? Or does another, new species of beings get to start it all over? Are they as good looking as us?

Now, I will confess, so there is no speculation, that I used to be Catholic. I have even begun calling myself “Post-Catholic”, because whatever you are when you’re done being Catholic, but you’re not interested in taking anything else up, that would be me. But regardless of my upbringing and the things I’ve been brainwashed with and hard-wired to believe, my logical brain has no problem accepting that humans and all life are a glorious accident. Some stuff esploded, hydrogen, oxygen, salts, and carbon got hit by lightening and monocellular life was like, “Wha? Who? Where am I? Ok, let’s do this…” Although the original Disney’s Fantasia has a much more beautiful interpretation of this. (OMG, Disney was down with the theory of evolution? Oh snap!)

I know that as humans, while our origins are based in chance, we have a responsibility to take care of each other and protect our world so we can live on it and enjoy it for as long as possible. That we must make the most of this life before we slip into sleep forever, dream dreams we will never recall to another, and have the secret passages of our neurons lit by sparks a final time. All we can hope for is a life dedicated to those who will live after us, and a painless and peaceful death.

But the spirit in me can’t help but wonder if there really is something else. Something unseen, unheard, that whispers through our history’s shadows waiting for an appointed time to reveal itself and direct us to the utopia we cannot achieve on our own, even if it means many of us must be cast aside for the greater good. And as my left and right brains fight over this, they both agree that even with logic and our accepted scientific theories, what then persuades the human mind to conceive of, to hunger for, something more than this?

I guess it doesn’t really matter. It’s not like I’d get in anyway. I’ve totally coveted my neighbor’s wife, dishonored my mother and father, taken the lord’s name in vain on several occasions, stolen, borne false witness to escape an ass whoopin’, told the Sabbath to go fuck itself, and hoped that I’d get laid before I ever thought about meeting God. And all that before the age of fifteen. But for anyone who makes it to heaven, it better be flippin’ sweet. Otherwise, I will totally laugh at your stupid little harp and halo while I’m burning in eternal fire.