It’s been a long time coming, but, alas, my days writing for the Opinion section have come to a close.
In light of my impending absence, I’ve decided to do something I vowed never to do — get personal.
The series title for my columns has been “Cancel the Apocalypse” for the past year — a phrase coined by poetic guru Saul Williams.
Some have wittingly picked up on the religiosity in the title, yet others stare blankly as they stammer through the jargon.
In short, most of my columns, in some way or another, have sought to eradicate apocalyptic ideas of the future.
But before I get too far ahead, a brief background is needed.
My first degree was in philosophy and religious studies.
And though I started the program “knowing” everything about God, I finished actually “knowing” nothing — funny how education works sometimes.
Everything changed during one of my many restless nights of insomnia with a startling realization — I had doubt.
Things changed when I admitted my own ignorance of God and it blossomed into a longing for knowledge. My foundation had been cracked, seemingly on every level.
I began picking up books written by non-Christians, as my curiosity sparked a yearning for alternatives to the bearded sky-God I knew so well.
It took several years, in fact, but eventually I put aside the things I “knew” and supplanted them with genuine questions of “Why are we here?” and “Where did we come from?”
The search for these answers has taken me across the world and back — twice, in fact.
Sadly, though, I remain ignorant of our purpose on Earth and our future — though I haven’t given up yet.
It is for this reason I have taken issue with all eschatological attempts to bring about the “end of days,” a desire present in all sects of Christianity and other religions, as well.
In this region of the world, it usually means Jesus will return on a white horse to gather his followers — though the guest list is usually quite discriminatory.
In others, it represents a time when this world will cease to exist, and so too will suffering.
But in the end, it means everyone will die.
So while billboards pop up across Tennessee proclaiming the imminent second coming on May 21, 2011, I wonder how much this will affect the lives of those who believe it.
In the end, if a sky-God appears and takes away the “faithful,” so be it.
Until that day, which I don’t foresee happening, it is our duty to protect and preserve our existence against all foes — both secular and religious.
Or, more simply, to cancel the apocalypse.
Andrew Robertson is a 23-year-old English writing and culture senior from Baton Rouge. Follow him on Twitter @TDR_Arobertson.
 
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Contact Andrew Robertson at [email protected]