If I’d known the world was going to end, I’d have shaved my legs.

3

In case you hadn’t heard, the next scheduled Apocalypse is slated for this Saturday afternoon.

I’m always sort of – I don’t know – surprised when mainstream media pays the latest Doomsday cult any mind, given the historical lack of follow-through, but then apparently people still care what Lindsay Lohan is up to, so there you go.

And the guy has an established track record of Getting It Wrong – remember when The Rapture was gonna happen back in 1994?  I seem to remember being slightly irked by this revelation, but went back to the more pressing matters of getting guitar players to sleep with me.

I do recall being actually/kinda/sorta spooked by Y2K, but I was also still drinking back then.

So here again is another opportunity for a last-second pledging of fealty to the deity of your choice…whoever it is that you believe will spare you from the hell-on-earth that is surely to follow when there is no one left but thieves, despots, murderers, godless liberals, and real estate agents.  But you had best be utterly earnest:  Rapture Jesus, much like the Great Pumpkin, knows sincerity when he sees it.

I suppose there’s something to be said for having a set date by which time you should have all your ducks in a row, spiritually and otherwise.  I mean, very few of us shed our mortal coils without ANY unfinished business.  And even some of the people who do believe in The Rapture most certainly will have forgotten to shut off the coffee maker before being swept up into Heaven.

But to some degree, oughtn’t we all try to live as though May 21st – or any day for that matter – will be our last?  And by this I mean – shouldn’t we all try to make a good impression going out?  If finding Jesus isn’t your bag, then maybe you could start by being polite to the counter help at Starbucks.  Or refraining from casting aspersions on the person wearing Crocs or placing 13 items on the belt in the “12 Items or Less” line.  Or burying the hatchet, letting bygones be bygones, and contacting someone to whom you haven’t spoken in ages because of some completely trivial perceived slight.

If not, and The Rapture proves another no-show on Saturday, there’s always the Mayan Prophecy on 12/21/12.