Ah yes, another rapture. Another apocalyptic weekend that came and went with the same fanfare as a wet paper bag in a wind tunnel. I swear, I’ve lived through more ends of the world than Doctor Who at this point. Every few years, someone gets out the prophecy calculator, plugs in some random numerology, and declares that this time, it’s really happening. Spoiler: it never does.

And it’s always the same people. The same preachers with thousand-yard stares and thousand-dollar microphones. The same audience clutching their Bibles and canned beans. The same cycle of panic, repentance, and sheepish silence the morning after. You could set your watch by the disappointment.

The cultural part of this fascinates me — because this whole Rapture thing? It’s so American. Like, apple pie and AR-15s American. Outside the U.S. (and the places where U.S. missionaries went on their little “convert the world” field trips), the Rapture isn’t even really a thing. It’s a uniquely American brand of religious theatre — a mix of end-times paranoia, self-importance, and capitalism with a halo. Everyone’s so sure they’re living in the special generation that God personally decided to nuke first.

I remember reading the Left Behind books about twenty years ago out of sheer morbid curiosity. I’ll admit, I was impressed — not by the theology, but by the marketing. Those books were an empire. Movies, video games, spin-offs, merchandise — the holy trinity of apocalypse profiteering. You’ve got to hand it to them: if Jesus doesn’t return on schedule, you can always sell another deluxe box set.

But honestly? After all these years, I’ve stopped laughing at the absurdity and started marveling at the consistency. These people never learn. The predictions get debunked, the math gets proven wrong, the sun rises like it always does — and yet a few months later, someone new is online explaining why the next date is the real one. It’s like an infinite subscription to disappointment.

At this point, I’m convinced the world will end someday — and half of these people will still be too busy live-streaming it for clout to notice. The sky will crack open, fire will rain down, and someone on TikTok will be shouting, “Guys, this is crazy — like and subscribe if you’re still here!” Meanwhile the rest of us will be rolling our eyes and saying, “Finally. Took you long enough.”