Missing The Rapture

Well, folks, at 6:00 pm on this Saturday, May 21, in the year of our Lord 2011, I was not Raptured. Nor were Mrs. Smitty's especially Jesusly Aunt and Uncle (who mind you, have spent an entire 24 hours praying over a cup).

I can only assume this to mean one of two things:

1. Harold Camping is wrong and we truly cannot know God's divine will for ending creation


2. It's not going happen any time, anywhere, save for 3.5 billion years from now when our sun runs out of hydrogen, loses it's equilibrium, swells to a red giant, and consumes the Earth

Either way, Harold Camping is wrong. Hide your surprise.

Wait...Monk In Training...are...are you still with us?

I might have to reserve, erm, judgment until we know if Monk is still here. If anyone is going to be reputed out of our stock of lunatics who are a part of is blog, it's him.

By the way, my pint of choice for awaiting the rapture was a bottle of Founders Kentucky Breakfast Stout. I could think of no better way to celebrate the end of the world or a simply beautiful Saturday afternoon than with that beer.

Read more...