According to noted televangelist and hairspray adept Pat Robertson, we're very near the End Times. Again.
And here I just put all of the decorations away from the last "End Times." Jesus. I guess apocalypses do have a way of sneaking up on you.
You know, one of the problems with living your life according to a bunch of superstitions and fairy tales is that you're never exactly sure what to plan for.
Plague of locusts or famine? Do I need to stock up on the bug spray or just a bunch of canned goods? Or both? Beats me.
Is this really the Rapture or just a problem with my meds?
Will it rain for 40 days and nights, or only long enough to mess up the car?
Is it better to be already dead and raised up by old Mr. Jesus, or alive, brutally killed in the conflagration, and then raised up?
Should I spring for the 3D Imax version of the Book of Revelations? Those glasses give me a headache.
What do the Chinese think about all this?
So many questions, and so few answers.
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