I recently went to see a new cardiologist, and he hit me upside my head with some devastating news that rocked my world: “Were you aware that you’ve recently had a heart attack?”
“What’choo talkin’ ’bout, Willis?” I said in my best Gary Coleman Diff’rent Strokes voice. “I’ve never had a heart attack. It seems I’d know if I had because I would have remembered it—right? I’ve had no pressure in my chest, no shortness of breath, and no nausea. I haven’t felt anything unusual.
“Hum…, well, then it was probably a ‘silent heart attack,’—probably happened in your sleep,” replied the Doc. “The damage to your heart is very apparent on this EKG. If we don’t take the necessary precautions, the next one won’t be so silent, and you might wake up dead. How’s your stress level?”
“Do you live in America, Dr. Dude?” I asked while clutching my heart. “It is the end of the world as we know it. I can barely sleep, I can barely breathe, we live under the reign of a tyrant, and even our free speech is under attack. Did you see what happened to Stephen Colbert and Jimmy Kimmel?”
After loading up on some temporary meds that slow down one’s heartbeat which makes one feel like a zombie, I made an appointment for a heart monitor that I’ll have to wear for a month. Then I went home to break the news to my husband of 46 years who almost had a heart attack at the kitchen table.
“That’s it!” said my man. “You’re backing off from the news and social media, and you need to stop writing a political blog. I need you to follow your prayer mantra about being “slow to speak” because it looks like the stress of living in America under MAGA rule is going to kill you, and I’m telling you now that I’m not finishing this race of life without you. We need at least another decade or two together.”
“But, but, but I need to keep warning the MAGA Christians that they are missing the boat and they are leading our country off a cliff,” I sputtered. “Plus, they all think they’re going to heaven, and you know what that old gospel song says: ‘Everybody talkin’ ‘bout heaven ain’t goin’ there!’ They’ve misinterpreted Jesus to the masses. They’ve made him cruel, unloving, unkind, full of retribution and brutality. What if Jesus comes back to Earth and sees all this misrepresentation of his character? Their sorry asses will never be chosen for the Rapture—they will surely be left behind!”
“Right…you don’t believe in the Rapture and neither do I,” quipped my husband. “But if we did believe in it, you’re not the one who could convince MAGA to straighten up and fly right. That’s God’s problem. This is out of your control. Looks like our country is going to be in a horrible fix for a long, long time, and you can’t afford to be stressed out that entire time. Even though you’re a fighter, I need you to keep calm, carry on, and stay alive for my sake and our grandkids’ sake. Read less news, watch more comedies, and go to sleep to late night comedians rather than MSNBC. Try to erase from your mind that we’re living in an increasingly authoritarian country, and we’re losing our free speech faster than water pouring through a sieve.”
I took to heart what my man had to say and determined to announce to my followers on Tuesday, Sept. 23rd that I planned to “chill out—write less!” I determined to watch no more than 30 minutes of morning news and scroll through Apple News only once a day instead of constantly. So, like an addict going into rehab, I scrolled one last time today, and I came across two announcements that sucked me right back in:
JIMMY KIMMEL’S SHOW TO RETURN TO ABC ON TUESDAY NIGHT
THE RAPTURE—A PRECURSOR FOR CHRIST’S SECOND COMING—WILL OCCUR ON TUESDAY, SEPT. 23
I went screaming through the house to my husband’s office: “Babe, you’re never going to believe this! I can’t stop writing now. Guess who’s coming back on Tuesday? Jimmy and Jesus! Whether I go or stay, Tuesday is going to be a humdinger of a day! I must warn the peeps!”
“Remind me what ‘The Rapture’ means?” said my exasperated husband, as he began banging his head against the palm of his hand.
“You know…it’s us Christians’ great escape as the elites favored by God who get to flee all the madness on Earth while our Heathen brothers and sisters suffer unmentionable horrors—be they our children, parents, extended family, or best friends. Great for us—sucks for them. Remember all the rapture predictions during the Obama years? A lot of White Christians were so alarmed that we had a Black president, they could hardly wait to exit stage left in the big upsweep to Paradise.”
“It’s the fantasy that all true believers in Jesus, which MAGA Christians think they are, will be caught up together to meet the Lord in the air. These so-called Christians won’t have to deal with anymore chaos, mayhem, murder, the homeless, and people who don’t think like them. They get to traverse the streets of gold in Heaven, lounge in their mansions and their personal yachts, gorge on all-you-can-eat buffets all day long and listen to cherubs serenade them with multitudinous tiny harps. Every day will be Sunday. Some preacher dude in South Africa said that he had a dream that it was all going to happen on Tuesday/Wednesday given the time differences around the globe. The preacher said that God told him that Jesus was coming to take his Church home. People are freaking out! They are selling their cars, their homes, and some are even leaving their phones unlocked so that those of us who are left behind in this Hell can take pictures of their ascent to Heaven! According to the Austin American-Statesman, some people are even leaving earnest Rapture instructions online such as TikTok user @sonj779 did in one of the Rapture instructions videos:
“When you finally start moving up into the air, I recommend that you don’t hold on to anything. I definitely don’t recommend looking down. I think we learned that lesson from Lot’s wife. Just keep calm, take a deep breath, slowly release it and keep your face looking upwards.”
“What do you think, Honey?” I asked. “Are we going to be Raptured or left behind?
“I think I’ll go downstairs and tape Jimmy Kimmel Live!” said my man as he grabbed a beer and fled to his man cave.
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how the hell did i end up here? 