For someone who predicted that the end of the world was to come in 1994 (maybe it did, remember Models, Inc.?), it's pretty surprising that Harold Camping has inspired such a buzz - both pop culture and serious - around his prediction that the Rapture will begin tomorrow evening (or Sunday morning, give or take).
People love a good disaster flick, and few compare to the Bible. You know what I love? The Cathedral of Saints Peter and Paul on Logan Square. And if Camping proves the fine line between genius and madman, on May 22nd it will be filled with nothing but the clothes of the saved. Look for me. I'm sure I'll still be here.
By day, I think I'll turn the main sanctuary into a meeting place for those left behind. We will need somewhere to organize our mortal crusade against the armies of demons and the walking dead. The crypt will be a good place to store weaponry. Crow bars tend to be the accepted weapon of choice against the undead. Zombies don't posses complex reasoning skills and can't look up so the dome windows can be used to signal an oncoming attack.
At night The Basilica's rotunda will become the hot spot for Philadelphia's heathens to mix and mingle. Kind of like the dance scene in Martix Reloaded, but with better music. Like a Lenny Kravitz video.
We will really only need one big meeting place. Come Sunday morning, those of us still around will be in Hell. Once the Final Judgment has been made, there's no reason left to hate each other. It'll just be really hot and loud. Like a nightclub in the 90's. I can't wait.
Okay, I jest. I'm just having fun and mean no disrespect. Incidentally my birthday falls on Armageddon, so I can assure you that nothing exciting ever has or ever will occur on May 21st. But just to be on the safe side, I'd exercise caution if your cat starts speaking in Latin and your My Little Ponies start eating each other.
Deja Vu?
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