Pastafarian eschatology

A quiet comment thread on Pharyngula: the post, a video from The Onion, is about teaching the controversy of global warming vs. Biblical armageddon. The thread is sleepy, with the American clock ticking the hours long after midnight, when even the most alcohol-and-indignation-fueled atheist has fallen asleep… and it is morningtime in Finland, and I read this comment:

No Ragnarök? And what’s the Pastafarian take on eschatology?

And I have an idea, and some time later find myself posting this abomination, provided below because, feck, something that long is more a blog post than a comment.

* * *

Pastafarian eschatology
reformed Expanded Universe heresiarch version

There will be no more pirates, save Davy Jones; there will be no more fish in the sea, save Godzilla, who technically speaking is not a fish, but this then is not a technical manual of the apocalypse, but a brief summary. (For the manual, see Apocaflopticon Piraiteicon, Bench Press, Sauk City (WI), 1952.)

There will be ten tornadoes greater than any seen before, and as they combine in the skies, two black holes shall open, and everyone nearby will be spaghettified instantaneously; this shall be the 23rd deuterocanonical coming of the FSM, and the taking up and the slurping of the faithful; but those that cannot account for their balls of meat shall be left behind, right behind, to suffer the rest of the apocalypse, and the toil of the damned.

In those days the dead shall rise; the graveyards will seethe, and the seas will vomit forth their dead; and there shall be eating of the flesh, and drinking of the blood, and great confusion on whether this is a zombie or a vampire uprising; but it shall be both, and it shall be an abomination. And there shall be great gnashing of teeth, and no teeth shall be left ungnashed, save some dentures, which shall be lost, and also damned, because it’s no fun losing your dentures in the middle of a zompire uprising. (Especially because as it turns out biting a zompire will turn it into a man; biting it twice will turn it into an Englishman; but if a zompire and a man bite each other at the same time, they shall be destroyed in a great explosion, and logicians shall be wroth, and their publications shall block out the sun itself.)

There shall be men with the faces of locusts, most probably spooking the children; there shall be men with the heads of elephants (and hearing them speak, men shall call their trunks tails), and there shall be men with asses for heads; and they shall rule states without number, and others where mathematics is still taught. And there shall be a teacher, and she shall be called Wormwood, and there shall be a beast, and he shall be called Calvin. Luther there shall not be; he is an ex-reformer; he has ceased to reform; etc. etc.

There shall be a great profusion of angels, with every integer combination of the number of wings, bosoms, eyes, hands and horns; most of them shall be abhorrent to behold, and all of them will find great difficulty shopping for clothes and sunglasses, and thus shall make war on the malls of the creation, turning the hamburger hut into a ruin, and the ATM into a great smoking pit, in which the carcases of the middle managers shall be barbequed, as it is prophesied in the Complainex Coustomersia.

There shall be cubits everywhere, and chalcedony too, and myrrh though no-one knows what to do with it.

In the end all will be gone save Davy Jones and Godzilla; and they shall repopulate the reformed Earth, and all seas shall turn to beer, and all lakes to various other alcoholic beverages, gross and unhygienic as that might be. There shall be health effects, but there shall be no more showers; but no-one shall mind.

And then there will be a midget, but he shall be late, and shall go back into his coffee urn, cursing mightily, and vowing a thousand-year war against the foul unbathed giant crowd.

And in the end, the cows will come home from outer space, pigs shall gain sufficient thrust and fly just fine, a troll shall say sorry, and there will be much rejoicing. Ramen.

(Shorter FSM eschatology: There shall be no more pirates. Oh no!)

(Come to think of it, maybe I should have gone with the shorter form. Oh well and apologies.)

* * *

Occasionally I look in the mirror and wonder what that ruggedly handsome man is going to do next.

And that is “rugged” in the sense of “having a rough uneven surface, (obs.) shaggy, hairy”; and “handsome” is the sense of “inviting a facepalm, a punch in the solar plexus, the finger, or some similar handy reaction”.

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