EnviroSpin Watch

Millenarianism 21st Century style.....

Now we all know about Michel de Nostredame. But here, for Our Own Dark Times, from Our Very Own Nostradami, are:

The Prophecies of Indyamus, or The Gloomiad de Islington
[Translated from 21st Century Journalion by Kevin Orangegrove, author of The Deaths of Brian]

Woe unto Ye Suvites, Ye stale worshippers of Suv,
S'en droughts an' floods shall dwarf Thee, descending from above;
Four-by-four, Ye shall most surely choke, then vomit, and so die,
Sulphuric fumes, oil-black, filth-pouring from a carbonaceous sky.

Gholems nine billion soon will stalk the sea-drenched Earth;
Yet, of Thy beasts and birds, alack, there'll be a mighty dearth.
Lord Virion shall then His Pandeme spread, through muck or midden air,
And Ye shall dwindle, shrivelled, shriven, by Helios' o'er-heated glare.

Next on Thy Head be carvéd bold and stark - the Text: "GM!"
For Ye shall fall and worship too the fickle Cell of Stem;
And as Thy weary world, a Burning Bush, turns flaming, fiery hot,
Thy grey gholemic goo shall melt away - and all shall surely rot.

So pay Ye heed to Earthquake, to Fire, and to Flood,
For now Lord Moonbat calleth: "Repent and be Right Good!"
Wear hempen pants and eat no changéd corn, nor soiléd beef,
And walk the Earth but lightly - tread not upon the leaf.

For "I am Indyamus! I bring no news save Death!"
List too the doleful Gloomiad, from out the Moonbat's breath:
"The Ending of the World is Nigh!" 'Tis Thy deservéd Fate,
For each Apocalyptic Day we cry: "All Ye, All Ye! We hate!"

Time for a snifter or two? No! When you are reading the dire Independent, The Guardian, or indeed plain Mr. Appleyard or the Nobel Mr. Pinter, just remember that every Age has its Millenarians. For, in the immortal words of Bruno Latour: "Nous n'avons jamais été modernes."

And, to misquote Claude Lévi-Strauss: "The Millenarian is first and foremost the man who believes in Millenarianism."

[Upper Right: the brooding print of Nostradamus is in the public domain. Courtesy of Wikipedia].

Philip, "What shall it prophet a Man..." Sic, Oh Sic! Coffee!