Memories of the Anti-Christ.


The last couple of weeks, someone at work has been *all* about Microsoft Tag. Chattering incessantly about how great it is to anyone that will listen. And til like yesterday,  I could not quite decide why it bothered me immensely.

BAR CODES

All I knew was that something about the entire idea set me completely on edge. You point your phone and take a picture of the bar-code tag and then it opens the web page or whatever.  Turns out, my own phone was incompatible which left me with a slight inexplicable feeling of relief. Yesterday, I finally tuned into my discomfort when I happened upon Mr. Bar-code chattering away to W, my boss,  about “the wave of the future” and “everyone will have one.”

The last phrase pricked my memory and I realized that the barcodes reminded me of a scene from these horrid Apocalyptic movies I had seen as a teenager. A Thief in the Night, A Distant Thunder, Image of the Beast, and Prodigal Planet: lurid, cheesy thrillers from the late 70’s to early 80’s that I found deeply terrifying.  I can remember different images from the series, but overall, I have not retained a very clear recollection of them. I just know they scared the shit out of me.  They depicted so much of what I heard incessantly at church.

I was raised in a “hellfire and brimstone” pentecostal church.  I grew up with speaking in tongues,  prophecy, rock music being satanic, and The Rapture.  I am sure my memories are skewed, but I swear: that was the topic *every* Sunday.

I’m actually pretty fuzzy these days on how the whole “End Time Prophecies” are supposed to play out. BOOK OF REVELATION, BABY!  In a nutshell, I think Jesus will come back (The Rapture) and takes the good people with him and everyone else is left behind for THE TRIBULATION PERIOD..

I really never knew how much this had scarred me until years later. I was 15 the last time I saw those. My youth group at church showed them to us over  a period of  like a month.  After that last time, I fully intended to forget that they ever existed and continue with my life. And that is pretty much what happened until one night when I was about 23.

One evening, one of my girlfriends was pestering me to come out with her.  So, we went out and had a couple of drinks. Nothing too hard core and I wasn’t gone too long.  We hooked up with several other casino people we worked with and they kept bugging me to call Matt and tell him to meet us. I remember I called home and tried to talk him into it, but he didn’t want to. It was still pretty early when my friend and I decided that what we really wanted to do was go play video poker at one of the other casinos, so not like too terribly late, right?

The plan was that we were each going to go to our respective homes in our own cars and have her sister pick us up and be “designated driver.”  I arrived at my apartment figuring I had about a half an hour before the sister came to get me.  At this point, all was right in my world. I thought that I’d just go in, try to sweet-talk Matt into giving me some money, and go on about my evening.

I opened the door and even though the television was on, I could feel *abandonment.* Even before I looked for him and found him missing, I could sense no one was there. There was a cup of coffee on a coaster. There was a magazine laying open upside down on the floor as though it had been dropped. There was also a cigarette in the ash tray that had smoldered down to one long ash.

I immediately jump to the ‘rapture’ assumption and burst into furious sobs.  As soon as I realized I was crying, I knew it wasn’t about “clearly, the rapture happened. And you got left.”  I think, at some level, I was OK with that; perhaps even expected it?  However, I was affronted to my very core by the idea that Jesus chose HIM and I GOT LEFT.

About a half hour later, I was relieved to be able to dismiss the whole idea  because my mom was still around and she had dragged him out someplace with her.  I don’t remember why and it’s not really important now.  Just that he strolled in, could see immediately  I had been crying and without even missing a beat, the asshole was all like “what? did you think I was abducted by aliens???? NO!!!!!!!!!!! THE RAPTURE!” Evidently, I must have given him a black look because then it was ” OMG! YOU DID, DIDN’T YOU?????”

“No! Don’t be retarded.. Look, I need a few bucks. I”m going to the casino with ___.”

“You know….gambling and drinking is not really going to improve your overall score with God. YOUR MOM AND I *ARE*  GOING TO TOTALLY GET TO GO WITHOUT YOU!”

When I think about how frightening those movies were to me, I’m not even terribly surprised that it affected me so fundamentally that I could reasonably call it “The Terror of my Life.”  Which actually, when one thinks about it, that’s really saying something considering I was a child during the mid to late 80’s. *Nuclear Invasion* is usually The Great Childhood Terror with a lot of Gen X’ers.

I want to think that I have settled down about it a great deal. But then Microsoft gives birth to it’s bar-code tags and I immediately flash on that movie where people had the bar-codes on their arms for the whim of the Anti-Christ and I’m tense.

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~ by Layla on May 4, 2010.

2 Responses to “Memories of the Anti-Christ.”

  1. But… but… I haven’t given birth to the Anti-Christ yet. So, you’re safe for A LITTLE WHILE! ;p

  2. Is she, geannie? Is she really? BECAUSE WHAT IF I HAVE?! HUH? It’s no longer safe for her! Bwahaha*cough. sputter. choke*

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