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| Wide-aperture Rapture photo capture recently |
Acolytes tend to be a trusting breed. It takes little more than a few statistics relating to the girth of Noah’s Ark or rumours of an unwitnessed tête-à-tête-à-tête with a two-headed extraterrestrial to persuade them to forsake all their worldly goods and decamp to a nearby hill, there to await the Rapture.
The “Rapture”, for the uninitiated or for those still weighed down with consumer items and a place to live, is something of a catch-all term relating to the timely rescue of goodly folk (usually Christians) from the earth just scant seconds before said planet is consumed by fire, swallowed by a space demon or overrun by sterile cactus people on a mission to inseminate human females. Please feel free to delete in line with your own personal delusion.
The “Rapture” is chiefly notable for two things: a) The frequency with which it is predicted, and b) The frequency with which it fails to materialise. Leading the field in Wrongful Rapture Recognition (WRR) are, of course, the Jehovah’s Witnesses, a US-based Christian splinter group.
The Witnesses predicted the imminent arrival of the Rapture in 1914, 1918, 1920, 1925, 1941, 1975 and 1984. They then took a ten-year sabbatical before returning to the fray in 1994 when, once again, they completely failed to predict the end of the world. In 1995, with no apparent sense of irony, the Witnesses returned to the headlines of the less-discerning periodicals with the announcement that “the end of the world was no longer nigh”. With the Jehovians’ unparalleled record for getting things wrong, this may prove their most unsettling prediction to date.
In truth, the end of the world has been predicted with unerring inaccuracy pretty much since the beginning of the world. In prehistoric times, winters, eclipses and an unaccountable shortage of mammoths may all have been seen as harbingers of the apocalypse, but it was the arrival of Christianity that really proved to be the beginning of the End of Times industry.
The first to capitalise on this new-found enthusiasm for species extinction was Theudas, a self-appointed messiah, who led 400 of his chosen people into the Judean desert in 44 AD in order that they might survive the looming end of the world. Unfortunately, their personal worlds ended somewhat precipitately when they were hunted down and slain by a Roman garrison. Theudas, himself, was decapitated and had his head carried on a pikestaff to Jerusalem. This, at least, had the benefit of preventing him predicting further apocalypses in 45 AD, 47 AD, 52 AD or 56 AD, leaving the field pretty much open for the Jehovians some 2,000 years later.
While the interim period between the headstrong (and ultimately head-short) Theudas and the current predictions of a cosmic full stop are undoubtedly littered with dubious doom-mongers, let’s jump forward a millennium or two. Despite 2,000 years of scientific discovery, increased religious cynicism and some 15,000 or more occasions when the horsemen of the apocalypse have proved to be non-runners, belief in instant immolation on a global scale seems more widespread than ever.
The very latest—and hugely popular—injudicious Judgment Day theory currently centres round the Mayan Calendar. Now the Mayan calendar is quite different from those that we habitually give to our least-favourite relatives around Christmas time. For one thing, it is singularly lacking in kittens, bobbins of wool and life-affirming doggerel; for another, it is some 1,872,000 days long and consequently takes up a lot of wall space.
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| The Mayan Calendar (non-girly version) |
This has proved to be enough to excite an appetite for a pending apocalypse not seen since the long ago days of September 2008, when the trials of the Switzerland-based Large Hadron Collider (LHC) spectacularly failed to destroy the world, even the bits of it to be found in Geneva. The mass media, professional Armageddon auteurs, the decidedly unhinged and even Hollywood (note the subject matter of the 2009 blockbuster 2012) have all latched onto December next year as our Next Best Shot at Being Shot Of It All.
One small, but influential, group, however, seem rather unconvinced and, largely, unconsulted. This is, of course, the diminishing number of South American natives who still adhere to the precepts of the Mayan Calendar. There is much bemusement among the latter-day Mayans that their sophisticated Western neighbours have picked on the piktun as a sure sign that a deity-decreed downsizing is due in December 2012.
One Mayan elder, Apolinario Chile Pixtun, is decidedly unimpressed with the attention his cultural chronology is suddenly attracting. He says: “I came back from England last year and, man, they had me fed up with this stuff. These doomsday ideas come from Western ideas, not Mayan ones.”
In truth, the Mayan calendar extends well past 2012, with many future predictions in its religious tracts not scheduled to take place for another 1,500 years or more. Far from marking the end of the world, for the Mayans the completion of a piktun is a time for celebrations. It’s a bit like Mayan Christmas. The fact that young ancient Mayans had to wait more than five millennia before they had a chance of getting a new Wii console or a Beyblades Super Vortex Battle Set may explain the cultural ennui that led to the ultimate downfall of this once-venerable civilization.
No matter how easy it is to dispel the mysteries of the Mayan Calendar, one other issue remains far harder to resolve—just why, since time immemorial, have so many people felt it incumbent upon themselves to predict the End Of Life As We Know It? Speaking to the UK-based Guardian newspaper on the eve of the first tests of the aforementioned LHC, Paul Boyer, author of When Time Shall Be No More: Prophecy Belief in Modern American Culture, ascribes the enthusiasm for en-Rapturement as down to mankind’s most primal urges.
He said: “It reflects a very ancient pattern in human thought. It is rooted in ancient, even pre-biblical, Middle Eastern myths of ultimate chaos and the ultimate struggle between the forces of order and chaos.
“It is deeply appealing at a psychological level because the idea of meaninglessness is deeply threatening. Human societies have always tried to create some kind of framework of meaning to give history and our own personal lives some kind of significance.”
Loosely speaking, Boyer seems to suggest that a hankering for ringside seats at the holocaust stems from a deeply ingrained desire to be part of something momentous—and what could be more momentous than mankind’s last moments? Boyer’s theory, though, may be fatally flawed, by its complete failure to acknowledge the role of “bragging rights” in many elements of human intercourse.
Lucky enough to bag a seat on the last U2 tour? Then no doubt you’ll be bigging up Bono’s performance, brandishing a tour programme and sporting a Larry Mullen Jr T-shirt. In short, you’ll be letting everyone know you were there. Front row seats at Ragnarok, as it was known by our 11th-century Norse cousins, offer little scope for one-upmanship on those, if any, that missed the occasion. Put brutally, there won’t be many bids for merchandising rights come the apocalypse.
The Norsemen of yesteryear offer another object lesson for would-be apostle of the apocalypse—every decade gets the doomsday it deserves. For 11th-century Norwegians, the end of the world involved a lot of pillaging, smiting and ultimate triumph, closely followed by an eternity of quaffing premium grog in the Valhalla Twilight Home for Victorious Vikings. In more biblical times, the ideal apocalyptic aperitif consisted of a lot of burning bushes, angelic hosts and the sound of trumpets being blown.
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| Ragnarok'n'roll: It's hammer time |
Contemporary cataclysms now embrace recreations of the Big Bang, invasions by inevitably grey aliens and computers developing self-awareness and deciding to dispense with mankind altogether. Despite the many different mechanisms suggested as heralding mankind’s last hurrah, a number of elements remain consistent. Chief among these is the identification of an individual or a group who provides the catalyst for the looming cosmic catastrophe.
Over the centuries many different characters have fulfilled this rule. The Jews, for instance, are a perennial favourite, often functioning as a default setting for cataclysm conspirators when no other more likely candidate can be found. Other supposed agents of the apocalypse have included Bill Gates, Elvis Presley, Genghis Khan, The Beatles, Bill Clinton and ’60s pop songstress Cilla Black.
The British Royal Family have proved particularly fecund ground, with the Queen, the Duke of Edinburgh and Prince Charles all separately linked to plots to shift the earth’s poles, trigger a nuclear war or to simply provide a warm welcome for Satan and several of the lesser dukes of the underworld.
One surprising figure for candidature as the “Antichrist” is Anwar Sadat, the former president of Egypt. As late as February 1997 he was tipped by several Middle-Eastern prophecy pundits as a key figure in the coming End Of Days. It is no slur on Mr Sadat’s zeal for such a cause to suggest the likelihood of his shirking the proffered role. He has, after all, been dead since October 1981.
Whilst many celebrities and international figures, such as Sadat and The Beatles, were unwittingly pulled into matters apocalyptic by third parties, others have been much more pro-active on that front. Ronald Reagan, the 40th president of the United States and star of the 1951 chimp comedy Bedtime for Bonzo, was probably the only end-of-the-world advocate who actually had the power to deliver it.
During his eight years as the world’s Most Powerful Man (1981-89), Reagan regularly alarmed colleagues and political commentators alike by his literal belief in one biblical prophecy in particular. This stated that the end of the world would begin with a decisive battle between good (the US) and evil (the USSR) above the small town of Armageddon (Megiddo) in northern Israel. Critics of Reagan’s foreign policy during his term in office maintain that not only did he believe this prophecy, he also did his level best to bring it about.
Reagan typifies many in the apocalypse-anticipation game in terms of actually being a true believer. Despite the countless thousands who have sought to steer humanity to a premature mass grave, very few of them seem to have been out-and-out scoundrels, motivated entirely by pecuniary gain.
A dishonourable exception here would be Lee Jang Rim, the Korean author of the ever-popular Getting Close To The End, one of the comparatively few Southeast Asian contributions to Last Days literature. Lee’s Hyoo-go movement attracted thousands of supporters from across the world, all believing his prediction that the end of the world would occur at midday on Wednesday 28 October 1992.
Having, with true apocalyptic zeal, given away all their possessions, quit their jobs, left their credit cards unpaid and neglected to set the video for any of their favourite programmes, the patience of Lee’s assembled flock was not long-lived.
By 12.01, a distinct shuffling of feet and subdued muttering was apparent. By 12.05, watches were pointedly being glanced at and a general round of harrumphing could be discerned. By 12.15, Lee had legged it, fearing a retribution far more imminent than that likely to be meted out from any divine source. He was eventually arrested and imprisoned for fraud.
It came as scant consolation to his ex-congregation when some US$4 million worth of bonds, bought with money Lee had extorted from them, came to light—especially when their maturity date turned out to be June 1995. Still, as no doubt one jovial member of the local Korean judiciary pointed out to the now penniless throng, it’s not the end of the world now, is it?
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| Sadly, the world outlasted REM |
A Brief History of the End of Times
4.5 billion BC: Earth created according to current scientific thinking. No recorded sightings of angels, spaceships or members of the British Royal Family.
10000 BC: Earth springs fully formed into life according to creationists. Much time spent burying dinosaur bones and aging cave paintings in order to try the faith of future generations.
3116 BC: Date the Mayan calendar begins. Possibly stunt by South American tourist board to promote city breaks to Rio in 2012.
0 AD: First ever Christmas. Birth of Christian religion and inspiration for 2,000 years of apocalyptic rumours. And pantos.
53 AD: Residents of Greek city of Thessolinia panic due to widespread belief they had missed the end of the world. They hadn’t.
1000 AD: First millennium crisis. Whole of world reportedly on best behaviour in anticipation of return of Messiah and likelihood of End of Days. Mood spoilt by arrival of 1001.
1555 AD: Michel de Nostradamus, the famous French seer, publishes his first collection of apocalyptic prophesies, setting the trend for vagueness, lack of specifics and generalisations still followed by 21st-century horoscope writers.
1843 AD: William Miller founds influential apocalyptic movement with the unimaginative title of Millerism. Predicts end of the world in 1844, later revised to 1845. Miller’s many followers refer to their ultimate failure to be consumed by fire and summarily despatched to the afterlife as “the Great Disappointment”.
1914 AD: First prediction of the end of the world by the Jehovah’s Witnesses (see also 1918, 1920, 1925, 1941, 1975, 1984 and 1994).
1988 AD: Edgar Whisenaut publishes his best-selling book, 88 Reasons Why The Rapture Will Be In 1988.
1989 AD: Edgar Whisenaut publishes sequel, 89 Reasons Why The Rapture Will Be In 1989. Doesn’t sell as well as original.
1992 AD: David Koresh, leader of the Branch Davidian Group in Waco Texas, changes name of his commune from Mount Carmel to Ranch Apocalypse. Local FBI fails to see this as ominous sign.
1998 AD: Chen Heng-ming, leader of the God’s Salvation Church, announces that the Messiah is set to announce the end of the world live on every Channel 18 in the world. News goes down particularly badly in North America where Channel 18 is home to the Playboy Network.
2000 AD: Forces of Y2K bug, planetary alignments, biblical predictions and disgruntled aliens combine. World stubbornly refuses to end nevertheless.
2012 AD: End of Mayan Calendar. Hillsides expected to be briefly over-populated. Normal service expected to be resumed shortly. 7.5 billion AD (circa): End of the world due to consumption by massively expanded sun. Vague sense of vindication reported among latter-day Jehovah’s Witnesses.
