So I avoid another television show (Revelations) that purports to show us, not only the End of Days, but how some of the superstitions of traditional Catholicism turn out to be real, paving the way for a blending of traditional Catholic faith with real life, superstitions and all.
And this is on television, mind you. Television: that great arbiter of real life.
I’m pretty sure the guy doesn’t get the girl, though, since she’s a nun. Damn cute nun. None of the old, ugly, fat, or non-Caucasian Catholic nuns were available, evidently, to help sift through the problems surrounding the end of the world. Busy elsewhere. The producers must have that hint of latent sexuality simmering just under the surface.
I thought we had gotten over this millenialism by the end of 2001. Well, also, by the end of 2001, we had many other things to think about than how our Y2K fears hadn’t panned out. Still, I thought it was over until 2999.
I should have remembered all of the other times that various cults had decided it was the end of the world, and moved on, or tried to, or got themselves ready — all throughout history. People need drama in their lives, and I guess some go to extreme measures, via their religious beliefs, to get some. They’ve always ended up looking a bit sheepish, trying to get their worldly possessions back from the less religious neighbors they had given them to.
This reduction of our most magnificent universe to a backdrop before which a specific, highly personalized reading of an ancient Greek manuscript is bound to take place with absolutely none of the other people on our planet, most of whom follow other beliefs, voicing an objection, gets me extraordinarily frustrated, to say the least.
So I switched the channel to a show about the L.A. Coroner, but it didn’t really hold my interest. I turned the damn set off.
white pebble 