*Steps off podium*
Thank you,
I'm sure a lot of you spent the days before The Rapture refreshing yourselves in your long-lost ways of Holiness. Praying in meek tones in your head, wondering if it's too late already, but nonetheless praying with verve because, if it means escape from damnation in the Eternal Oven, to be a latrine digger in forever mode in the Great Happy Sky, you say 'Give me the shovel.' A lot of you were being extra decent, when often time rudeness applied. I wonder how many kids got spectacular phone calls from grave-voiced strangers saying, "Hello, I'm your father..." And truant kids doing the same to parents who cursed them a long time ago.
To his detriment this US Pastor, Harold Camping, with the mythical formula based on decades of decoding Scripture, timed his event to coincide with Saturday. Meaning some of y'all will immediately enforce the Backsliding Option and engage in some serious Post-Rapture day sinning in the name of celebrating. Way to go Pastor Guy. Generate more vice in the name of religion. Meanwhile the Muslims, the Buddhists, those kooky individuals who pray to a VCR tape of Men In Black, believing there are tiny, tiny aliens with mythical powers living within... all of them are all collectively laughing at us Hosana types.
And what's with y'all? In 1995 Busta Rhymes proclaimed on his first solo album The Coming, "There's Only Five Years Left!"And you all laughed and said, "That Busta guy, with his wild videos and dreads, such a nutcase... But then some white dude you've never heard of thumps The Bible forcefully and says the world is ending, all of a sudden the Terminator confesses to having grown-ass love children, 50 Cent makes music with Jadakiss, Bin Laden gets his boots smoked while watching porn eating a roast pork sandwich, a Jazz bassist chic no one knows wins best album at the Grammys ahead of Kanye and that Gaga (man)chic, Ugandans grow balls and defy their master, Arabs start kicking dictator ass all over the place, the Lakers and the Celtics both get lumped up badly, no one riots because Manchester United wins.... all kinds of weird stuff, all at once.
Some of you were pro-active in other ways. Planning what you'd carry in your Rapture escape bags: tambourines, copies of the Psalms of David and holy water, warm tuskers and cold muturas, dvds of Grey's Anatomy and even weed. Some were scripting lines with which they would try to bag the foxy heavenly angels and make hybrid babies, I mean twitter has been boring for about a week with this rapture buzz.
Most of all, I feel for those who took this thing seriously enough to get rid of all their worldly possessions, even after it was reported that the Rapture Pastor Guy was still accepting donations on his website. To spend it where exactly? Excuse me, no version of the Bible I've come across describes anything like a mall, or a marketplace, or seedy dens where Players and Ballers of note can congregate and make it rain... only milk and honey and lambs frolicking in the meadow with lions, playing brikisho and shake and other utopian visions. That Pastor must be reading from the International Hedge Fund Version. It has the Book of the Pharisees in it that was previously lost in antiquity. Other versions have The Chronicles of Bernie Madoff. That's right, the one locked up is a re-incarnation.
I imagine the congregations in the churches that told their believers to sell everything off and bring money to them to give to The Lord are going to have some awkward sermons come Sunday after the rapture. First order of business being for the Pastor to tell his flock how he missed the Train to Heaven, I mean he's holy, right? And secondly, what's good with all the cash? We see that fresh new gray suit you got on, nice cufflinks and imitation Movado watch, Preacher Man.
Stiff silence....
"Reo mmepata kuona guvu ya Baba Yetu. Lapcha ilisemekana inakuja. Rakini hakuna Lapcha inakuja, hio yoooote irikuwa ni mithani, kama ire ya sekondi taam, inaitangwo Mocko."
Crickets......
"Simnajua mocko egzamu, ire inafanyangwo kabra ya mutihani yenyewe ujitayalishe uweze kujua uwezo utakaokuwa nao kwa mtihani.... hata hii lapcha ya jana irikuwa ni mtihani.... Halleluyah!"
Grumbles in the pews....
Pastor wipes shiny forehead with crisp new Ferragamo kerchief.
"Si hata Avrahamu aripewa mocko, ariambiwa apereke mtoto kwa murima amshinje. Na akafunga thafare akaenda huko....huko eeeh, kwa ure mrima... nimesahau, rakini ni mrima kubwa saaana. Na hata hakuvaa jacket. Yah. Sasa huko, kufika akaambiwo "Wee hi ni mocko egzamu, usishije mtoto weee.'" Akaambiwo ashije mburi. Lakini Avahamu arikuwa mjamaa wa guvu. Arinyoga buffaro tatu na kamba moja."
Congregation stirs.
"Pastor lakini wacha mezesha, ganji ziko wapi, niliuza tv and vyombo bwana, watoto wakona njaa, wanataka lunch leo na kuona Flapjack..." Hii mocko hatuelewi."
"Sasa ware wanasema waludishiwe thenti zao, warizopeana loho safi ju dunia irikuwa inaisha kwa sababu ya lapcha, hiyo irikuwa ni Mocko egzam fee.... na kama mmnajua mocko exam fizuli mnajua hapo hakupeangwii lefund yoyote. Either upite ama ukule mawe.... Hata Avrahamu alilipishwa fee, ariambiwo ashinje mburi..."
Commotion knocks the camera to the ground. All we see are shuffling feet and hear all kinds of ruckus going on.
At this point, we press FFWD>> on the movie to a news bulletin, where a slim lady reports:
"Worshippers at the Glorified Ebenezer African Inland Light Tabernacle of the Holy Ark of David have crucified their Pastor, his wife and two deacons after the fallout arising from today's announced Rapture that failed to materialize. Worshippers claim they were ordered under oath to sell all of their worldy possessions months ago, in readiness for the Rapture and bring forward all money to the Pastor. The Pastor, it is claimed, declared while hanging from an electric pole that he will resurrect within three months..."
Don't ask me why I made the Pastor kuyo. Forward all comments about that to 2braincells@flowkadengebrain.com.
The moral of the story is you'll be here till you aren't. Even Busta Rhymes can't call it, and he can fit the entire Bible into 16 bars. Now, let me know where all the Post-Rapture shindigs are at. Back to you Emy.
*Steps off Podium*
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