Image stol. . .borrowed from The Imaginative Conservative.

I will admit that this is possibly the weirdest thing I’ve ever written. But, I will also admit, I had a blast writing it. Thanks, as always, to Winston Elliott III and Stephen M. Klugewicz for encouraging my weirdnesses.

 

What if rather than the drama of a rapture, we get the dread of a ceaselessly droning Ann Coulter or Rachel Maddow? What if the tyrants marked with the sign of the beast turn out to be elevator operators who love Muzak? What if the four riders of the apocalypse turn out to be Friends, MTV’s Real World, The O’Reilly Factor, and Game of Thrones? What if the Anti-Christ turns out to be the manager of Denny’s no. 3778, located in St. Paul, Minnesota? What if the seven seals turn out to be the best-selling paperbacks at the Detroit airport bookstore—that one right next to gate A37? What if the seven trumpets appear in some big band-polka revival group making its way through the charts of a Sheboygan, Wisconsin AM-station?

 

No “Hand of God,” no “Jesus in the Sky,” no landing of the mothership, no dragon devouring the world. Instead, just slow, drawn out, painful, and seemingly inevitable decline.