Harold Camping's problem is the pain of separation from his siblings.

The old fart who does such a great job of working folks into a stiff, foamy lather with dubious predictions of the world's end sure does look like a few other people. By "people," I mean, of course, an assortment of fictional characters.







A celebrated hack of a comedian, a filmmaker riding on the fumes of a thirty-some year old idea, and the product of a delusional redneck. Three's company, but four is a very happy crowd.