Harold Camping - the so-called "preacher" who predicted the end of the world would happen on May 21, 2011, said his "math was off," and that it was actually supposed to happen on October 21, 2011.
If that were to happen, it would really piss me off.
I'm very much looking forward to my birthday on October 25, 2011, and, my book, GOLFING IN AMERICA, Golfing Observations & Train Travel Amid Short Stories, will be published October 28TH.
By the way, Mr. Camping is about 92 years old, and looks like he is 115. Reports say that he had a mild stroke in June, and has been recovering in a convalescent hospital.
According to information on Wikipedia, Harold Camping is the president of Family Radio and provides broadcasts to 150 markets in the U.S. He dabbles in numerology, to help him make his predictions.
If you Google his name, you will learn more about him that you might care to know.
The worrisome and bothersome aspect to this is that he raised millions of $$$$$$ to place billboard advertisements announcing the end times back in May.
That means there are many people who financially support him. That leads to the question, What The Fongonus is wrong with them?
The truly scary part to that is: more likely than not, those people have drivers licenses and are registered to vote.
Harold Camping is convinced that Jesus Christ will return to earth, and that all of the righteous people among us would be sucked up into heaven.
Then, there would be five months of fire, plagues and brimstone on earth. Millions of people would die each day, etc., etc., to end with a big bang on October 21, 2011, ending the world and universe as we know them.
Apparently, Mr. Camping has a very bad track record of making predictions. He predicted judgement days on May 21, 1988 and September 6, 1994. However, those days came without incident.
Back in May, many of his believers sold all of their belongings to give cash away to other people. Boy, that must have been something.
I do not know where Mr. Camping is hiding. However, I wish that he would SHUT THE FONGONUS UP, and go back under his rock.