Sep 25 · 5 min read
The End of the World (Again… and Again… and Again)
So, apparently, tomorrow the world is supposed to end. Yep, that’s the headline. Grab your backpack, cancel your student loan payments, and definitely skip folding that mountain of laundry in the corner of your room. Why? Because a South African pastor, Joshua Mhlakela, has announced that the rapture is just around the corner. And guess what? He says it’s going to be massive—big enough to shake the Earth and make you wave goodbye to your Spotify playlists.
Now, let’s be real: this isn’t our first rodeo. If you’re anything like me, you’ve already survived around 500 end-of-the-world announcements. Remember Y2K? The Mayan calendar meltdown in 2012? All those creepy blood moon predictions? Yeah, we’ve been through this circus before.
And yet… people still fall for it. Not just in a “ha-ha this will make a funny TikTok” way. Nope. We’re talking about folks quitting their jobs, selling their cars, and asking deep questions like, “Can I bring my golden retriever to heaven?” (Which, by the way, if heaven doesn’t have golden retrievers, is it really heaven?)
So let’s unpack this new doomsday forecast. We’ll mix in some history, a dash of psychology, and, of course, a truckload of sarcasm. Worst-case scenario? The world really ends tomorrow. Best-case scenario? You at least get to spend your last hours reading a blog post that roasts apocalypse predictions. Not a bad way to sign off, right?
The Pastor, The Prophecy, and The TikTok Storm
Here’s the scoop: Pastor Joshua Mhlakela, during an interview on YouTube, declared that September 23–24, 2025, would mark the big event. According to him, God will descend, scoop up Christians, and shake the Earth so hard it’ll look like it went through a blender.
And to add extra drama, it aligns with Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year—a date that carries heavy symbolic weight for many Christians. Basically, the perfect storm for the rapture hype train to leave the station.
Unsurprisingly, TikTok pounced on it. Welcome to “RaptureTok”—the trending corner of the internet where people post:
- “Post-rapture survival kits” for those left behind.
- Heartfelt videos asking, “Dear Jesus, can my dog come too?”
- Quit-your-job confessions like: “Hey boss, I won’t be in tomorrow, not because I hate the job (well, maybe a little), but because the apocalypse is here. You understand.”
Déjŕ Vu: Been There, Survived That
Before you write your farewell letters, let’s pause. This is not new. Humanity has a long, colorful history of screaming, “The end is near!” Spoiler: the end never shows up. Let’s do a quick highlight reel:
- Year 999 AD: People thought the year 1000 was it. Nope. Just another round of plagues and wars.
- 1666: The triple sixes freaked everyone out. Result? London burned, but the rest of the world kept spinning.
- 1844: Preacher William Miller promised Jesus’ return. Thousands sold everything. Nothing happened. Historians call it The Great Disappointment (also a good name for most group projects).
- 1910: Halley’s Comet panic. People thought the comet’s tail would poison Earth. Businessmen sold “comet pills.” Wallets died. People didn’t.
- 2000: Y2K. Computers were supposed to crash and destroy civilization. Instead, we just got boy bands and frosted tips.
- 2012: Mayan calendar panic. The world didn’t end, but Hollywood gave us a terrible movie instead.
- 2011: Harold Camping blew millions predicting the end. The end didn’t show. His bank account did.
See the pattern? It’s like a four-step cycle:
- Someone says, “World ends on X date.”
- People panic and sell their stuff.
- The date arrives. Crickets.
- Awkward silence and backpedaling.
Why Do Smart People Keep Believing This Stuff?
Let’s get serious for a moment. Why do educated, normal, rational humans still get duped by apocalypse predictions? Here’s the psychology behind it:
- Fear works: Our brains are wired to respond to threats. If someone screams “Fire!” you don’t fact-check; you bolt.
- Group hype: Social media turns predictions into global group projects of anxiety. TikTok, YouTube, Facebook—panic spreads like memes.
- Certainty feels good: Life is messy and unpredictable. Even knowing “the world will end” feels weirdly comforting because at least it’s certain.
- Doom is exciting: Admit it, a little part of you likes reading this. It spices up the boring grind of emails and traffic jams.
- Cognitive dissonance: When predictions flop, people double down. “I wasn’t wrong; the date was just off.” Classic brain gymnastics.
Social Media: Apocalypse, But Make It Trendy
Back in the day, if you wanted to spread doomsday vibes, you needed a cardboard sign and a street corner. Today? A 30-second TikTok will do. Boom—millions of views.
RaptureTok has it all:
- Memes of Jesus leaving without us.
- Believers livestreaming their “final moments.”
- Skeptics joking, “Setting my alarm for tomorrow—let’s see if my neighbor disappears.”
- Influencers selling “rapture kits” or cashing in on views. Because nothing says “end times” like sponsored content.
But What If…
Let’s play devil’s advocate. What if this time, the prophecy is actually right? What if the world ends tomorrow?
Upside: no more finals week, no more student loans, no more passive-aggressive “per my last email” notes, and no more group projects where you do all the work.
Tempting, isn’t it?
But here’s reality: every single prediction has failed so far. The odds are extremely high that you’ll still be here tomorrow—staring at your phone and wondering why you believed some random YouTube preacher.
So What Should You Do Instead?
Here’s my radical advice: don’t quit your job, don’t sell your car, and definitely don’t send your boss a goodbye message saying, “Sorry, Jesus is coming.” Instead, take this as a reminder.
- Hug your dog (they deserve it).
- Text that friend you’ve been ignoring.
- Try the thing you’ve been putting off.
- Scroll through memes guilt-free.
But for the love of Wi-Fi, don’t make life decisions based on TikTok prophecies.
The Boring Truth: The Apocalypse Will Be… Meh
If history has taught us anything, it’s this: apocalypse predictions make for hilarious content, but lousy reality. Prophets will keep predicting, believers will keep panicking, and the rest of us will keep scrolling, laughing, and asking ridiculous questions like:
- “If the rapture starts in one time zone, do other zones get a countdown?”
So tomorrow, when the world keeps spinning, your neighbor still drives their old Honda Civic, and you still have that assignment due Monday—remember: we’ve survived the end of the world before. And we’ll do it again.
Until the next apocalypse forecast drops. (See you in 2033. Rumor says that one’s going to be epic.)
