I feel a virulent hatred, overwhelming detestation for those soft brained nothing doers who, every decade or so, predict the end of the world.

They don’t come from a direction of science, NO.

They don’t label themselves Buddhist or new ageist, NO.

They tackle the world with their stupidity, with CHRISTIAN written in blood on their vast foreheads. Christians have, so far, suffered these fools quietly, with compassion and diffidence because that is precisely what Christ would do, we think.

We’ve had to fix serene smiles on our faces- smiles that couldn’t ever hope to reach our eyes-whenever the rest of the world smirks and says something condescending or insulting to the effect that we’re a bunch of morbid and irrelevant jokers.

Of course, it’s possible that some pigheaded woman etched these same exact words onto whatever passed for writing equipment at the time, calling Noah all the above things and more.

She must have felt very dim when the flood whooshed by her and her clever beliefs at 6pm the next day, uprooting and carrying them right past Noah’s window but not before allowing her a long and wistful glance into the cozy but most probably smelly (all the animals in the world? Funkadelic!) ark. But this, very clearly, isn’t the same case.
There was a general attitude of mockery at the expense of Camping and his followers but also, a wariness, an expectant feeling in the air. The kind that suggested to your mind in strong tones to go out and drink till your liver, fed up, would flash you the bird and jump out of your ear.

Point is it elicited a much larger amount of attention than it should have.

For example:

On Friday night, I was happily making a list of all the things I was going to buy after payday, having the time of my life dreaming  about picking them off shelves and hangars and just…OWNING them when it popped into my head that the world was scheduled to end at 6pm the NEXT day.

What annoys me is that I stopped dreaming long enough to think about the apparent end of the world.

Such charlatans ought to be thrown into Kyanja’s swamp.


About Miz. Kyrte

I read, I write, I love. My favorite quote is: We're all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn't. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing. Bukowski, baby! Extremes ;-)

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Permalink 6 Comments

6 responses to “NTSS.

  1. First. I love the them. AND YEAH, I GOT THE SOCKS!!

  2. Well, I was comforted that even the Son Of God did not know the day, but that did not stop me thinking twice about it, given I was just falling in love and seeing us go back to heaven would mean…..but then hey, To live is Christ, die is gain.

    Forgive em…

    • Wah. You sound all zen and accepting of ‘whateverGod’splanis’ but I’m sure you’d still be shaking your fist at him, saying “Just when I find the one, God! Just when! Nice guy YOU are”

      Because Love is mukyamu. 😀

      P.s: I forgive them, but I remain convinced that they’re part of a conspiracy to make us look bad.

  3. lOL….. i struggled….in my heart i was like eeeeiiiiieeeee????? But you learn to take the harder path because it is the better one…. Mbu all zen! Hahaha.


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