• by George Simpson , Featured Contributor, May 13, 2011

You have just about a week to get through your bucket list, according to Family Radio Worldwide's Harold Camping, who has proclaimed that on Saturday, May 21, the Christian rapture will take place, when all of God's chosen people will be simultaneously taken from Earth to heaven. Those left behind will suffer in misery until God finally destroys the world on Oct. 21. That the nonagenarian Camping also proclaimed the world would end on September 4, 1994 makes no matter. He calls 'em like he sees 'em.

Just as the Book of Revelations has a run-up of symbolic (and clearly drug-induced) developments before the Big Silence, I expect to see some of the following end-of-days events unfold in the following week:

Google will confess that yes, there has been a significant amount of click fraud -- and will rebate half of all money spent on AdSense from the start.

Tim Armstrong will put a happy face on the pending apocalypse and ask everyone to contribute their thoughts to aol (for free).

The genitalia of those who have dropped "disintermediation" or "disruptive" into a conversation any time since the bubble burst in March 2000 will become inflamed with an itchy rash that requires persistent and obvious scratching to avoid insanity.

Steve Jobs will reveal that indeed, all Apple products have internal mechanisms that induce an electronic coma three days after the product's warranty expires. And that this was part of the business plan from the get-go.

Every ad network on the planet will admit that it cannot in fact serve the right ad to the right person at the right time.

Terry Kawaja will reveal in a humorous musical video that there is absolutely no relationship between any of the companies in his online ecosystem chart and that he placed them utterly at random when he and Joe Zawadzki were tripping on some bitchin' peyote.

Everyone who claims to be a friend of Wenda Millard's (but really isn't) will swell up to three times their body mass and turn a bright aubergine for three straight days.

God will appear across the desk from Stuart Elliott and say, "You know, I never really cared for Brooklyn."

Employees of any online ad service described by its initials will be lined up and required to explain in plain English what the service does -- to an eight-year-old child. If the kid doesn't get it, the employee is instantly turned into a column of salt.

Zuckerberg will own up to having stolen the idea for Facebook from the Winklevoss twins, but it won't matter since Cameron and Tyler will be Raptured up in a week. Mercifully, for the twins, everything in heaven is free (except excessive bandwidth charges).

Michael Arrington will spontaneously combust as a kind of cosmic preview of what lies ahead for the evil between May and October.

Bill and Melinda Gates will quickly establish a foundation chartered to convince the world that Martin Luther was wrong and that man is indeed justified by works and not faith alone. They will know in a week if St. Paul (and Bill) were on the winning team.

David Ogilvy will rise from the grave, shrug, and say, "Maybe the algorithms help."