Uncle Bardie’s Movie of the Week: Disaster & Survival

Once a week on Monday, Uncle Bardie shares a movie with his Readers he gives a big two thumbs up. It will simply be a short excerpt or a trailer. Uncle Bardie might even throw in a reflection on the movie. If so, it will make an appearance below the video. So pop some popcorn and give yourself a treat. This week’s movie is “The 33” (2015):

What would you do if you were trapped underground? For sixty-nine days? With thirty-two other people? And you only had enough food for thirty people for three days?

 

Uncle Bardie’s Movie of the Week on Hold Today

On Mondays I usually post a Movie I give two thumbs up. In light of the tragic events Saturday night, I am not posting the film I had planned today. I am sending out my thoughts and prayers to those who were the victims of that tragedy.

I have lived long enough to see way too many acts of terrorism: The assassinations of President Kennedy, Malcolm X, Dr. King and Bobbie Kennedy; the murder of John Lennon; the attempted assassination of President Reagan; the Oklahoma City bombing; the Wisconsin Sikh Temple Massacre on August 5, 2012; the Sandy Hook shootings; the Columbine High School shootings; the Fort Hood shootings; and the Mother Emmanuel Church of Charlotte, SC massacre. And these are just a few that have occurred in the United States alone.

No major religion, not Islam, not Judaism, not Christianity, not Buddhism, not Hinduism, condones the murder of innocent men and women and children. All of these faiths call on us to do unto others as we would be done unto. We must recognize this Evil for what it is. It is a Cult of Violence that brainwashes the vulnerable, the alienated and the isolated into believing that their cause is righteous and that they have God’s approval for their horrendous acts.

It is my hope that something positive and good will come out of this tragedy. All I know is that we can do better than this. And we must try. That would be the best memorial to those who died so tragically Saturday night.

The Second Coming, Maybe

Some folks think they know something even Jesus doesn’t know. I’m talking Second Coming here. Last year in May some radio preacher predicted it. Second Coming didn’t happen. In December the Mayans had predicted it. It didn’t happen then either.

Jerry Falwell and Tim LaHaye, author of the Left Behind books, gave it the old college try. Nostradamus said it would be Y2K, and we know what a bust that one was. Pat Robertson predicted 2007. He first thought 1982 was to be the big year, but he re-evaluated. Edgar Cayce and Sun Myung Moon both said 2000.

The astrologer Jean Dixon even put in her two cents. Said it was to be 1962 according to the alignment of the planets. The planets forgot to check with her. They didn’t align properly and we didn’t get the fireworks she promised. She checked her charts again, and lo and behold, it’s supposed to be 2020. These are just a few of the ones who have blown it. And when they blow it, they don’t admit they blew it. Doesn’t this sound a lot like politicians?

No, they’re like software. They give us an update. Unless they do a Jim Jones and drink some Kool-Aid.

Guess the reason Radio Preacher Guy and the others blew it was because they were getting a little impatient. And they had not read Hal Lindsey’s book, “The Late Great Planet Earth”. Old Hal thought he had the road to the Second Coming down pat. He put his guesses in a nice, neat package and wrapped it up with a ribbon. He even gave it a name. Called it his stepping-stones to Jesus. First we get a temple, then we get an Armageddon. Then a Pope named Six-six-six.

The Catholics disagree on that one. The pope of the Second Coming is supposed to be Peter and named Peter 2. The Mormons added their own take on the Second Coming. Jesus is supposed to set down in Missouri. Seems Hal didn’t check with the Mormons or the Catholics.

Well, I think it is time I cleared it all up and gave you the real skinny. I have spent many years studying the hieroglyphics of the Book of the Dead Folks and the cuneiforms from the Tower of Babel. That last one turned out to be a lot of talk, talk, talk. I studied the Dead Sea Scrolls. They were a little dusty, so you can’t always trust them. The Nag Hammadi Codices were really not that helpful. It was hard to read what they said was the handwriting on the wall. Turned out it was written on a cave wall in a sandy spot in the desert. Them gnostics were real kidders, you know.

I read the Vedas and the Tao te ching. Meditated on Mount Nanda Devi and Mount Fuji. Talked to a voodoo priestess. She read the entrails of a chicken for me. Smoked some, well I am not saying what we smoked, but just take my word for it. The Rastafarians know where the good stuff is. Checked my Aztec calendar and it seemed to be running slow. Finally figured it was running on Aztec Savings Time. And the Aztec god of whatever, big Q, wasn’t talking. He is very upset that everybody took him to be Cortez. Well, he wanted me to let all the good Aztecs everywhere know. He wasn’t Cortez and he’s not taking the rap for Montezuma’s boo-boo. I prayed at Olympus and checked with the Sibyl at Delphi. The Vestal Virgins only wanted to party. What else can you expect from the toga lobby?

I went through the Bible frontwards and backwards. You have to read it backwards if you’re reading it in Hebrew. Read the the Torah and the Talmud and the Kabbalah too. I studied the Old Testament, the New Testament and the In-Between-Testament. Read what Enoch said and what Adam wrote. I interviewed the lion that was going to eat Daniel. I visited Elijah’s cave and sailed to Patmos and hung out with an old guy who actually hung out with John when he was writing the Book of Revelations. I consulted the stars and I consulted the planets. Even checked with my crystals.

Finally, yes finally, I came up with the time. Not an exact date but a specific time. It was amazing but it made sense. And thanks to your patience I am about to reveal the revealable. Before I do let you in on the secret, I have to tell you that none but none of those other guys and girls were right. They were way off the mark. So when is the Second Coming to be? You are not going to believe this. It will be the day, the exact day, when the Cubs beat the White Sox and win the World Series. That is also the day when hell freezes over.

Who’s going to clean up this mess?

Certainly not me. Nope. I don’t plan to be around after the disaster strikes. That is Disaster with a capital D. You know the one I’m talking about. The One they call the Apocalypse, which means Armageddon to all you who don’t speak Apocalypseze.

It can be anything. A really bad ass disease that wipes out a third of the population on Planet Three to that big whopping meteor that strikes the heart of New York City to that nuke that wipes out half the East Coast of the good old U. S. of A. The way things are going it could very well be a bit of all of these.

Or it just might be the little greenies landing in their giant ufos, offering to be our friends. Then when we give them the old Boy Scout, they pop out our lights.

You can survive the Big A if you want, but not moi. ‘Cause I don’t want to be around to clean up the mess. No sirree.

And there is always a mess. I’ve seen the movies and the aftermath is not pretty. We’re mutants or we get religion or we’re cannibals because there is not enough food to go around and we find ourselves eating Solyent Green. Yuck. You ever taste that stuff. It makes anchovies taste like chocolate cake. Not that I am partial to chocolate cake.

My plan, and I think it’s a very good one, is to sit out on my back lawn with a big tub of popcorn and a keg of beer. Then I will raise my mug and toast the Apocalypse and watch the fireworks with a big whopping smile on my face. I might even do it to the soundtrack of Bugs Bunny singing, “On with the show. This is it.”

I can hear you saying, “But you’re going to die.” Okay by me. Like the man said, “We all gotta go some time.” And what a way to go.

What do you expect me to do? Hide under a desk and hope for the best? That was the school drill Civil Service gave us in the fifties when the alarm went off that we were under nuclear attack from the Russkies.

Nope. That’s not for me. Like I say, I don’t want to be around to clean up the mess. And, as you can see, I will be the mess.

I am not the only one. I have it on good report from some preacher on the radio that Jesus came back May, 2012, just as expected. He showed up, took one look around and next thing He said was: “I’m not cleaning up this mess. I’m outta here.” So much for the Rapture.

So if Jesus ain’t cleaning up the mess and I ain’t, who’s it gonna be? Any volunteers?