When I was a mere slip of a girl, my mother was reliant on threats to get us to “behave.” She’d say, “Eat your lima beans or I’ll never cook you another meal” and “Clean your room or I’ll sell you to the circus” and “If you ever serve a martini in a highball glass again, I’ll step on your neck.” Needless to say, I never went hungry nor was sold to a circus (I went voluntarily), and my neck remains elegantly unstepped upon. Even as a child, I could see that the problem with giving ultimatums is that they only work if you keep your end of the bargain.
I bring this up because, as many of you may know, according to Mr Harold Camping, tomorrow is Judgment Day. I’m not going to go into the science of his calculations—it’s a little too number-heavy for my liking—but he’s well serious on this, people. From what I understand, sometime tomorrow Jesus will rise from the dead to gather his saints and all the Goodies will be caught up together with him and his lot in the air to meet God.
Anyone still left on the ground has five months to suffer until everything is annihilated in October. So those who are skewing tomorrow as the end of the world just need to keep quiet: don’t you know how foolish you look talking crap?
Anyhoo, back to the Rapture. If we are to believe Mr Camping (and why shouldn’t we, he certainly has a trustworthy face), some of you may find this a bit alarming. You needn’t fear. You’ve already been judged, mate, so there’s little you can do to learn more or change fate. At this stage, there’s no time left even to request a free bumper sticker or put up a billboard (though oddly Family Radio is still accepting donations). Instead you should probably just concentrate on preparing for your ascension to meet the lord. You should definitely be wearing your Sunday best Saturday. I would suggest, whatever the weather, you choose something clean, light, but still relatively durable (I’m thinking Egyptian cotton for its breathability). Do not wear any item that could easily get caught on something. Men, you may look dashing wearing your Salvatore Ferragamo tie, but you’ll look a right fool when you get stuck dangling from an electricity pylon. And, please, women who decide to don dresses, be sensible about your unmentionables. Remember, there are bound to be some curious eyes below as you fly up into the sky. Don’t leave your modesty behind. Lastly, use your common sense as you would on any high-traffic day: bring some crosswords and travel sweets to keep you occupied in case there’s a hold up somewhere along your journey (but be careful not to drop them; it’d be the ultimate faux pas to put someone’s eye out right before being introduced to God).
When you think about those who are going to be left behind, do not feel sad. They’re the scum of the earth, remember? Maybe you thought you loved them, but you didn’t: you love Jesus! Get your story straight before you get to Heaven, why don’t you. Besides anyone who isn’t going tomorrow doesn’t believe they’ll be meeting their doom soon anyway, so why should you be fretting on their behalf? Grow up.
I truly hope tomorrow goes swimmingly. The threat of the Final Judgment is one doozy of an ultimatum, and I don’t doubt that God (unlike my mother) has got the balls to follow through. Besides if I know Jesus like I think I know Jesus, he’s pretty much a man of his word. So bon voyage, Christians, have a great flight!
Everyone Needs an Algonquin 
Who the f*ck is Harold Camping? Well, at any rate, I hope he is right because, once all those kind of people have gone, the rest of us might make a bit more speedy progress towards building something like a decent, humane, enlightened and peaceful civilisation.