Because despite the evident inclination to apostasy never forget being a woman educated in the faith in the God of Abraham and Isaac - because when you teach them certain things will always remain a child inside, even when operating any conscious effort to get rid of it - I always had the weakness to believe that the end of the world would be preceded by signs rather classical: comets, epidemics, war, pestilence or other small divertissement gender, quite similar to those found scattered along wide in the Bible. Let's face it: it's just that I always had a special fondness for this literary genre. The desert seduces me. Basically I have an animus Old Testament.
But come to think of better m'รจ the suspicion that I was deluded. Not so much the end of the world's next venture, which seems unlikely, however, a possibility less remote hypothesis that Berlusconi will finally remove the balls to say. But the dignity of Armageddon lies ahead. Why the desert and the flaming comet, the oceans that divide and the great whore that crosses the land bringing with them death and destruction, are also always imagined that one must earn. If you cross the desert for 40 years eating locusts and scorpions then you are worthy of an apocalypse as God intended.
But if you belong to a civilization that believes it is necessary to embark in the production of soft 4 feet Technogel ® underneath the notebook or directly on your desktop, then the only apocalypse you merit is that you will take in the face of television by subtracting the last breath you without you even noticing.
When will the dawn of the new world no one will survive on the planet, and the only perceptible flicker is still that of millions of LCD screens tuned to the ending theme of the Great Brother. And that's it.
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