The most popular is that the August total eclipse of the sun will presage the Second Coming, when Jesus finally returns and judges all seven and a half billion of us. The logistics of this seem immense, and, historically, mass trials have never demonstrated much in the way of impartial justice. It’s probably why it’s taken the Son of God 2,000 years of tinkering to come up with a foolproof plan to get it all done in one Judgement Day.
I’m sure when it goes down we will all appreciate his efforts, but the two millenniums of suspense are killing us.
Of course, there have been a lot of solar eclipses since 33 AD, although Google failed to supply us with an exact number, and none of them so far have been world destroyers. The reason the faithful feel this one will wipe out humanity is that it will be visible across the length of the USA and the United Kingdom, although, like all solar eclipses, only on a narrow track across the two nations, which track seems to avoid the Bible Belt entirely, but that doesn’t keep believers from pining for all human closure. The prediction is based on the Biblical statement that “A darkness will fall across the land,” before all the worthiest souls get juiced up into heaven by the blender of God’s love.
The importance of the American nation and the English-speaking world in Christian prophecy is reflected by the fact that they are mentioned in the Bible zero times. Take a look for yourself if you don’t believe me. You’ll find a psalm that contains convenient, quick recipes for microwaved meals before you’ll find anything concerning the USA. That doesn’t keep American Christians from thinking that when humanity ends, they’re going to have the front-row seats.
If you don’t think American exceptionalism will be a factor on Doomsday, you can take heart in the predication of Matteo Tafuri, the “Italian Nostradamus.” Why Tafuri merits this title is a mystery to me, since Nostradamus predicted the future more often than he had a hot lunch, and Tafuri only made one prediction, that being that when the southern Italian town of Salerno gets snow for two days in a row, that’s when God is going to ix-nay mankind’s future.
This just happened. When they get out the snow shovels out in Salerno, it’s time to kiss your ass goodbye, according to the late Tafuri, so don’t buy season tickets to anything.
Also, a statue of the Virgin has been observed crying in Macedonia. Highly emotional sculptures are a rarity indeed, and Macedonian believers think the previously inexpressive hunk of marble’s collapse into teary vulnerability means our Earth is getting eighty-sixed from the company of planets. No one has tried dissolving a little Zoloft in the holy water, but that’s our suggestion.
Finally, the dodgy planet Nibiru is back in the global ass-kicking picture. You may remember Nibiru from 2012, when it was thought to be ready to whomp us into fragments as part of the Mayan end of times. But having failed to validate the Mayans’ prediction doesn’t mean that Nibiru has dropped out of contention to deliver us a fatal blow. No, Nibiru is the Ronda Rousey of world-ending, always ready to get up off the mat and make a failed comeback attempt. The most recent one happened last February, when it no-showed again, rendering yet another prophet still, like the rest of us, breathing. He’s disappointed about that, but those of us looking forward to life after Groundhog Day are okay with it.
Another prognosticator has Nibiru whamming into us in October of this year instead, but we’ve lost all faith in Niburu over here. While other planets spin in their orbits like clockwork, making their paths predictable for millennia in advance, Nibiru wallows around the heavens like it’s been playing a drinking game involving shots of Jägermeister. Stumbling back and forth across the orbits of other planets doesn’t make it “mysterious.” It just makes it unreliable. It’s just as likely to crash into Venus or Mars as here, or just weave around the asteroid belt looking for a karaoke bar, before finally stumbling home and falling asleep on the bathroom floor.
So, maybe no Doomsday this year. Disappointed? There’s always 2018.