When I was around 12, my local parish told me I had to start “studying” to receive the right to what all tweenage Christians realize is the awesomest part of going to church: communion—which, among the Lutherans, meant you had to understand the wine before you could chug the wine. I remember one day in class my instructor bringing up the topic of the End of Days. The Apocalypse. The revelation before the Second Coming. The biblical event, I mean, not something like a societal collapse in a place like, say, America, which people think will result in a run of godless-and-lawlessness, and all the inevitable, rampant crime, homicide and starvation that might accompany it. (Which is happening all over the world right now in places like Gaza, Syria, Myanmar, Sudan, Yemen and Haiti, by the way, but which some Americans seem to think is standard fare and just desserts for those places, and doesn’t warrant apocalyptic mention because those people just don’t know how to govern themselves properly. Or whatever.)
I forget how it came up, but when you’re part of a church, the thought is never far from the collective, pew-sitting mind; it’s basically what’s keeps everyone showing up for the sermons. My instructor described the beginning as a man lying dead in a street, and all the TV cameras were on him, recording it. Some prophet, some incarnation of a prophet, some street vendor selling carnations for profit, I don’t know. But it was in the Middle East (of course), and from out of that event would spring the end of life for all, and the fulfillment of the New Christian Covenant.
I don’t know where she got the idea. I mean, the Bible, probably. But I think it was more some reaching interpretation of the Bible than literal—you know, to make it fit more into the contemporary age of media. The thing basically hasn’t updated itself in like 3,000 years.
I won’t say it didn’t stick with me—frighten me, even. But when you’re twelve, that’s not a difficult emotion to experience at the hands of an adult in whom you’ve placed a good deal of trust. Remember that Far Side comic with the ‘Floating Head of Death’? It’s basically the same thing. Organized religion is sometimes no different than a giant, inflatable balloon with a scary monster face scribbled onto the front of it, on which someone else is almost always pulling the string.
But suddenly, I’m starting to get that feeling again. In particular, it was waking up to read that Vladimir Putin not only is casually threatening nuclear retaliation for America hinting at providing more aid and security to Ukraine, but talking of sending troops to the border with Finland. Remember what happened the last time he sent troops to a border? They line-stepped right over it into a full-scale invasion.
Now, this isn’t February of 2022, and Russia isn’t the same force it was back then. They’ve lost likely more than 350,000 troops in the fighting. But reports are out revealing that the Russian economy is doing far better than predicted, despite sanctions (and despite its own population). And people keep signing up to join the Federation “meat wave”, even if they’re from as far away as India and Nepal. And even if they’ve been tricked into doing it.
Meat wave is meat wave, however. It’s proving successful at chipping away Ukrainian defenses, gobbling up more Ukrainian land and realizing Putin’s long-term goal of making Ukraine part of the Soviet Union—sorry, Russian Federation—again.
In the early 20th century, Americans watched as German and British naval forces were built up feverishly in port; they watched the French ally with Russia; they watched the Russians fight the Japanese; they watched Austria-Hungary steal some Balkan land; they watched France and Germany fight in North Africa; they watched Italy stumble into Africa just a few countries down to steal some land of its own; and they watched Germany and Austria-Hungary start a war with Balkan Europe, all with a resounding, fart-laden: “Meh.” Well, that last event pretty much started World War I, but still—most of it garnered the same reaction Americans have today to both the lopsided wars being fought in Ukraine and Gaza.
Which, speaking of Gaza—Benjamin Netanyahu keeps flipping the figurative bird to President Joe Biden as the White House continues to pressure Israel toward (in Israel’s mind) a premature ceasefire in Gaza, and thousands of innocent Arabs and aid workers continue to be slaughtered as the IDF makes its way to the border with Egypt. This is a significant change of tune in Washington. On March 25th, they finally allowed a UN Security Council resolution to pass which in the slightest way evinced criticism of Israeli policy, which at last wasn’t the equivalent of the sh—y parent waving their hand, going, “Pssshhhh,” at all the teachers, parents and neighbors who keep telling them their kid is a little prick bully who doesn’t know how to play well with others during recess and after school.
The reason for the change, I would guess, is because it’s voting season here in America, and Biden realized anyone can do what many Arab Americans did in Michigan a few weeks ago during the state’s primary: not vote for him. They basically pulled a Brewster’s Millions, and wrote in ‘None of the above’.
Policy won’t change toward Israel, however, Washington says. This is true. Israel has its plethora of lobby groups, think tanks and pocketed legislators here in America, and the Judeo-Christian belief system is just too strong in this country for any of that to change.
Which is all very frightening, too. Global-apocalyptically speaking. It’s one thing to go “Meh” in the face of a new world war. But it is, in fact, something else altogether to go “Pssshhhh.” Especially when you could have engaged in plenty of acts of prevention.
