Can You Spare Some Change for the Apocalypse?
"Nostradamus and the Bible both say that one of the signs of the Apocalypse is a cashless society."
I looked at my friend over the top of a medium Kenyan dark roast, my eyebrows colliding over the bridge of my nose in equal parts confusion and consternation that my early a.m. injection of caffeine had to wait until I dealt with Armageddon.
"Did someone get up on the wrong side of the Rapture this morning or are we playing some kind of random comment game?" I quickly took a swig of coffee and swallowed before he said something that would make me spit it out.
"Your Caribou 'Bou Bucks card." He pointed to the small coffee cup-shaped plastic card I'd used to pay for my purchase with. "First checks, then credit cards, then debit cards, now these tiny things. Hell on earth is nigh."
The woman at the adjacent table was desperately trying to look at us without looking like she was trying to look at us.
"Hell on earth is having to spend five minutes behind a guy playing pocket pool in his chinos, trying to fish out a sticky, lint-covered quarter, so the barista--which is Italian for 'I can't be bothered', by the way--can charge him $4.85 for a cappuccino."
But his train of thought was not to be diverted. "Look on the back. It says 'treat just like cash'. So there."
"So there what? Since when did convenience become the devil's plaything?"
"Since Revelations got put to papyrus. The beast forced all the people, small and great, rich and poor, slave and free to have a mark placed on their right hands or foreheads. No one could buy or sell unless he had this mark, that is, the beast's name or the number that stands for the name. That would be the triple six. So no money. Just this mark. So says Revelations 13:16-18 over 2,000 years ago. And it's coming true now."
He picked up my coffee card and closed it in his right fist. "See? A card or chip could be implanted in a person's right hand. Or," he flipped the card over, licked the back of it and stuck it to his forehead, "it could be implanted under the scalp."
The woman next to us audibly laughed through a mouthful of muffin and then began choking on it. She got up to grab a napkin and inquire about the Heimlich Maneuver.
"What about gift cards? Do those count?" I asked, leaning back in my chair. "Because I'd hate to think I brought on the End of Days because I couldn't figure out what to get my sister for her birthday."
He made up the gap in space by leaning forward on folded elbows. "Yep. That's all part of it."
"But there's been cashless societies throughout history. Systems of barter, for example. What if I traded the furry pelt of some deceased woodland animal for my coffee?"
"It's totally different. The electronic nature of these chips will allow people to be traced, to have data gathered about them, and thus, they'll be able to be controlled by a single source of all-powerful evil."
"So Rupert Murdoch is the Antichrist then?"
"To some. But he's just keeping the seat warm until the real deal arrives."
"I thought Ronald Reagan was supposed to be the Antichrist because his first, last and middle names all had six letters."
"Obviously not."
"So what can we do to prevent it? Or should we just cut to a training montage and gird our loins for some Ragnarok-and-roll?"
"Give me three bucks."
"Pardon?"
"Give me three bucks. That cash exchange will be symbolic of our refusal to bow to the Beast, for the Bible warns that those who take on the mark of the Beast will receive the full strength of God's wrath."
"You forgot to go to the cash machine before meeting me here, didn't you?"
"Pretty much. So you gonna loan me the three bucks or what?"
I flipped my 'Bou Bucks card at him and pushed my empty mug across the table. "Get thee behind me Satan. And get me a refill while you're at it."
9:41:59 AM 
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