Armageddon and all sorts of Apocalypses are some of my favourite subjects. I love catastrophic movies, and I have this particular trait - I dream in disasters. Earthquakes, volcanoes, wars, plane crashes, pandemies, tsunamis, you name it - my dreams have it all. Once I was rather scared by all this mayhem and woke shuddering every second night or so, now I got used to my dreaming patterns and treat it more like my very own movie theatre.
I follow a few volcanic/catastrophic blogs and watched BBC non stop for a day or two right after the Japanese earthquake happened. Disasters are awe-inspiring in their power. I even wrote an article listing the likely and the unlikely ways in which the end of our times may arrive.
But I draw a line at Harold Campings of this world. Long before Camping's promised Rapture Day, I was wondering - where will the poor guy hide on May 22nd? Or will he be cheeky enough to emerge in public and say something like - oops, miscalculation (guess what - he did just that!).
Anyway, May 21st came and went, and I vented my feelings here, right after the ominous date.
