The Prophet of Doom is Eaten by His Young

Let me make myself as perfectly clear as freshly-blown glass: Gary North is a con artist with a evil black vulture soul that feeds on the brain cells of humanity that have been killed off by ignorance. And in just a few days, he will be exposed for the slick huckster that he is.

If you have not heard of Mr. North let me give you a quick run-down. For many years, Gary North, a member of a Christian cult who wishes to bring about the end of western civilization, has been making scare-tactic predictions about end of the world. These range from AIDS becoming the next black plague, to a nuclear war with Russia that would send everyone back to the Stone Age (except he and his fellow followers).

In the past few years, after all of his other predictions of doom and gloom (that would make Ozzy Osbourne's Black Sabbath-era lyrics seems like The Backstreet Boys wrote them) have failed. Gary happened upon a book written by computer programmer Ed Yourton, in which he warned of dire consequences unless the Y2K bug was addressed.

Gary North saw this as a way to make money off of the uninformed, by scaring them into buying his very expensive newsletter (more than $200 for just 24 issues). Starting with things like 70's-era gas lines, supply trucks that won't deliver necessary goods, crashing world wide stock markets, and backing it all up with vague references and quotations from reputable and credible programming pioneers, and even you can seem like a computer glitch guru if you get in early enough in the game.

At the time of this writing, there are only three days left until the clocks turn over to Jan. 1, 2000. And to date, I have yet to see any gas lines stretching for blocks or computer programmers running for the hills like packs of panicked beasts. People aren't making bank runs, and the various stock markets haven't collapsed as of yet. For the past week North has been rather quiet. I speculate that he and his inner circle are currently locked away in the isolated North compound. The food supplies are stocked, the water supplies and filters are all in place, the booby traps have been activated, and they are armed to the teeth with enough small firepower to fend off an army of starving Huns. There's also the possibility that he's already left the country and is on his private island, watching the sunset as he is served chilled margaritas by a loyal collection of child-servants freshly imported from Venezuela. In both cases, he has Manson-esqe dreams of returning to a world where he'll be welcomed as their new leader and mentor.

If he's wise, he'll stay where he is for at least six months. Longer if he values his life. Because if he shows up any sooner, the people that took his advice, and gave him their money will tear him apart like a pack of hyenas on a wounded gazelle.

But don't think for a moment that this will be the last we'll be hearing from Gary North. As any street-level hustler will attest to, you can't keep a good shill down. Gary will be back by May or June, with a newly calibrated pitch of how the world will be ending shortly.

In the meantime, take a walk through his web site. Savor all the splendor of a modern-day madman who would have had his followers seal themselves up in caves with rocks & mortar a thousand years ago. Who knows, perhaps he may finally lose the edge, and attempt to explain why his predictions have all failed to pass.