William Rivers Pitt Mocks Apocalypse Prediction
Yup, Still Here
[The sealed Karl Rove indictment?]
A few weeks ago, my wife and I took a drive to visit friends and family in her small hometown out in western Pennsylvania. It was what you'd expect from a region that has been dealing with economic recession since the steel and rail industries dried up and blew away forty years ago - sweet and beautiful in places, blighted and depressing in others, but with the first faint bloom of spring on the trees whispering of better days to come - except for one strange, glaring thing.
[Karl Rove remains free.]
It was one of those digital billboards, looming and gaudy amid the neglected sprawl of Altoona, and displayed on it was something I'd only heard about in passing. According to that blinking monstrosity, Jesus was going to ride back to Earth on the wave of a planet-annihilating earthquake that would summon The Faithful to Heaven and consign the remaining mass of sinful humanity to the yawning doom of the damned. This was to happen on May 21st, roundabout six in the evening (Eastern Standard Time), and the last dregs of the un-chosen would be completely scourged from the Earth by October.
[And what was supposed to happen on May 12 roundabout 24 business hours, Will?]
By the time we left for home, I had spotted three more billboards of varying sizes and technologies espousing the same apocalyptic message, and upon our return, I did some digging. As it turned out, these things had been popping up all over the country; even here in liberal Boston, I discovered the existence of one of these billboards not three miles from where I now sit. Something called Family Radio Worldwide, in the guise of a fellow named Harold Camping, laid out the scratch to buy all that billboard space across the continent, because ol' Harold had consulted his trusty Bible, done some wildly questionable math, and pulled the exact moment of the End Times out of his cash-filled hat.
[And Bev Harris pulled a new election result out of her cash-filled BBV. Perhaps Camping could claim that he heard about the apocalypse from Jason Leopold.]
Oh yeah, the money has by-God been rolling in ever since Mr. Camping sprayed his end-times predictions into a Family Radio microphone. But I'm quite sure that has nothing to do with anything. Those billboards were not an investment seeking future profits, and the incredible sum of money Mr. Camping has raked in as The Day loomed closer was just simple people trying to get in good with God before the elevator took them to the top floor.
[Camping should have claimed that he got his prediction from the Hopi Wise Men and then he would be rolling in DUmmie cash.]
Somewhere, P.T. Barnum is slapping his knee and giggling like a titmouse.
[P.T. Barnum is still laughing over your Karl Rove indictment prediction, Will.]
Well, guess what? It was already Sunday in Australia when the alleged Biggest Saturday Ever dawned across Eastern Standard Time, and that whole continent remained obstinately Down Under instead of rapturously Up Above. Maybe every single living person there is a blasphemous sinner, but the sun has been crawling across the northern hemisphere for long enough to convince even the most fervently devout that, mmmmmm, maybe they've had their pockets picked once again by yet another wolf dressed in sheep's clothing.
[Or by yet another Will dressed in Jason's clothing.]
Forgive this leap to judgment, but I have a sneaking suspicion I know just exactly what type of person goes in for this breed of apocalyptic nonsense. Let me guess: you're a Christian of the evangelical stripe, white, and your ears are forever attuned to the dog-whistles of social conservativism. You voted for George W. Bush twice, and would have happily done it a third time if given the chance. It's almost certain your whole life is caving in around your ears, and you are utterly unable to cope. You can't make the mortgage payments, your job got outsourced to somewhere, and you seethe at the presence of non-English-speaking brown people around you, even when they mow your lawn and empty your trash and serve your food. You think Rush and Beck sit at the right hand of God, and you've been voting Republican ever since Ronald Reagan invited Jerry Falwell to the White House. You are a follower, an adorer of authority in all its permutations. You smell like fear.
[And Pitt smells like deer. Frightened deer when caught in the headlights after the exposure of his Karl Rove indictment fraud. When will you ever truly own up to it, Will? Your whining partial birth NON-APOLOGY chock full of self-pity doesn't count.]
Your life is caving in around your ears, to an incredibly large degree, because you have supported - with your time, your money, and your badly-spelled signs at Tea Party rallies - the very politicians, corporations and power-brokers who have savaged your future. You believe in the demigod of free-market capitalism (because Rush and Beck tell you so) even as that system steals from you, your children and their children to come. You see the writing on the wall and perceive it as runes carved there by devils and socialists and Muslim fellow-travelers, because you have been well-trained to do so. You would not know the truth of your life if it voided its bladder in your face, because you are inculcated with a world-view that is sustained by hatred, distrust, fear, and the clannish bonding of the cult-bound who think as you do, and so are "saved."
["Know the truth?" When will you finally ADMIT the truth about your fraud, Pitt? Or do we have to wait another 24 business hours to hear it?]
Yours is the church of cognitive dissonance - the more truth is presented to you, the more vigorously you reject it in favor of the pain-cave of your dilapidated ideals. This day of doom is your best option, and your greatest hope, because the spiraling dissolution of your stunted follower's faith leaves you no other options save the blessed simplicity of oblivion. You are thoroughly suicidal, at bottom, and when that end does not come for you (and, psssst, it's not coming), you will be forced to cope with the truth of Sunday's rising dawn, and the sad fact of your continuing existence.
[Could their existence be any sadder than being confined for all eternity to pacing a small piece of sidewalk as a pretend bouncer in front of Bukowski's while living in constant fear that one of the Newton girls breaks her cash-enforced silence to rat out the Temporary SockPuppet?]
I think you might live your whole life and die without taking responsibility for the pernicious nature of your influence on our culture, but I hold out hope for you. Jesus did not ring your bell today, and maybe that means it's time to re-evaluate your role in things.
[So when will YOU take responsibility for your part in perpetrating the Karl Rove indictment fraud? Come to think of it, have you ever even taken responsibility for threatening violence on a homeless woman living in a car on a Colorado street? And how much of mommy's dough did it take to checkbook your way back into DUmmieland after that episode?]
I am a baptized Christian, and I have faith, insofar as I very much believe that within the first four books of the New Testament can be found a superior blueprint for living a good, moral life. I am educated, insofar as I know the Book of Revelation is coded language to the faithful under the shadow of ancient Roman repression, and not a literal roadmap charting the end of the world. I am not afraid of the dark. I am still here. So are you.
[As you claimed, Will, you are a KENNEDY CATHOLIC who only proclaims false faith and phony public prayers when it is politically convenient to do so.]
So I guess we still have to deal with the world as we find it.
[And we have to deal with the Karl Rove indictment...IF Will can ever find it. And now to hear from the DUmmie Peanut Gallery...]
Technically, the fallacy is the bad stuff, not the pointing out of it...
[So any comment on the FALLACY of the Karl Rove indictment?]
I don't know, Will. The clock has not run out yet. We have until
6 pm any time zone. I wouldn't worry though. This is the second time this goober has sent up flares.
[An oatmeal cookie to the first DUmmie (or LFT) who points out to Will that there are still 24 business hours left to run on the clock for the apocalypse prediction to come true.]
Just wanted to know what YOU meant when you said "superior moral blueprint." Superior to what?
[DUmmie trotsky challenging Pitt's claim to believe in part of the Bible. Don't worry your atheist soul about this, DUmmie trotsky. Pitt only PRETENDS to believe.]
I can always count on you, trotter, to be predictable.
[Replies the predictable Pitt to DUmmie trotsky.]
If you're waiting for me to apologize for being a Christian, I invite you to hold your breath.
[Added Pitt later. BTW, when are you going to apologize for being a grandstanding Kennedy "Catholic" who shows absolutely NO public professions of faith until it is politically convenient to do so?]
This should be on every front page in America. and on every TV set.
[NEWSFLASH!!! Karl Rove has been indicted on May 12, 2006!!!]
My husband and I thoroughly enjoyed it! We're still here, too, and welcome you back to NC whenever!
[Why? Is there a homeless woman living in a car in NC for Will to beat up?]
You are absolutely right about the nature of mystery cults. Their doctrine was usually veiled in language only the faithful could understand.
[That mystery cult sounds like Liberalism.]
And we are all Will Pitt.
[We are? Hmmm... I was wondering why I felt a sudden desire to drink myself senseless and believe in everything Jason Leopold tells me.]
In pains me to see these "christian" people being so duped, more so because they inevitably drag the rest of us down with them.
[Watching the DUmmie people being so duped by Bev Harris didn't pain me a bit. I found it to be hilariously entertaining!]
I think Mr Camping should give all that money back...now.
[Have you ever gotten your $10 back from Bev Harris?]
Those billboards are expensive. That money could have fed a lot of hungry people.
[Including a certain homeless woman living in a car on a Colorado street who must also live in fear of violence from a certain Trust Fund Kid.]