What I Learned From the May 21st-ers

Having lived in Maine for most of my life, usually I can quickly spot people who, as we say, “aren’t from around here.” Sort of like gaydar but for out of state people, and much less socially valuable. So I was having breakfast at the diner across the street from my condo a few weeks back when I spotted them – southern accents, suspiciously polite people with Krameresque shirts, and the kind of hair that is begging you to check your local sex offender registry for a match. They definitely stood out in a diner full of local lobsterman and seemed to be carrying a bunch of flyers. Before long I noticed they had gathered at the gas station across the street, where a caravan of professionally painted vehicles waited for them break the huddle and move on to their next stop. These were of course, the May 21st-ers.

Checking my email quickly while waiting for my own check, I saw a picture my parents, having coincidentally driven by that very gas station an hour earlier, had taken of the same vans. Because we share the same sense of humor (they are after all my parents), I paid my check as quickly as I could, and ran across the street so I could meet these people before they drove off, drank the kool aid, or whatever it was they were planning to do next.

There were about 12 of them standing in the gas station lot, speaking to each other in quiet tones disproportionate to the busy street of passers by, straining to make out the lettering on the vans before smiling once they did. About half of them were almost finished their post-diner cigarettes (give them a break – if the world is ending in a few weeks, huffing butts at a gas station doesn’t really seem so crazy, does it?), and all of them looked up excitedly when I greeted them with a cheery “hey guys!” I shook a few hands, told them I noticed their vans, and could I have my photo taken in front of one?
At this point I figured they would do one of two things: 

1). Be as genuinely friendly as they had seemed in the diner, jump at the opportunity to take my photo, hand me some fliers and wish me luck come May 21. Or  

2). Quickly figure out I wasn’t taking them seriously, and that I was there to indirectly mock them by having my photo taken in front of their vans as if I was at a cheap carnival side show, ready to plaster it all over Facebook and Twitter, where my friends and I would have a few good laughs at their ignorant expense...

 Guess which they chose? I thanked them for their time, collected a few flyers blaming this on gay people (who else?), went home, and the photo you see above has been on my Facebook profile ever since.

I had all but forgotten about this encounter until a week or so ago, I’ve started to see the May 21st group pop up all over twitter, and more traditional media outlets. While my first reaction was, “those are the bat shit people I met a few weeks ago!” I’ve read a few articles and watched a few interviews about them and their movement that morphed my instinctual point-and-laugh mentality into something a little more reflective. And then, I started to feel a bit guilty, and here’s why.

First, religious cults (which of course is a very subjective term) tend to attract the vulnerable, low hanging fruit of our culture. These people aren’t just gullible, but rather probably have had some kind of trauma or otherwise unpleasant lives that have brought them to a point where they have generally checked out from society, and have chosen some sort of message, not matter how strange, through which they can find community and peace. Like the Heaven’s Gate and Branch Davidians before them, they have not only been manipulated by a charismatic leader, they are vulnerable enough to follow him, which is infinitely more depressing to me. Think about where you have to be in your life to get on board with this kind of message.

Second, while you and I share the common sense, social capacity, and general understanding that the world, while probably in its final billion years, will not come to an end this Saturday, these people appear to range from mostly to fully invested in this philosophy. To them, this is real. They have their calendars marked, and not just in pencil. They believe, and they’re ready. And while there is a certain amount in “what’s the harm in believing” going on here, it’s the actions some of them are taking that should be alarming.

Take for example, Robert Fitzpatrick, who blew his entire life savings to help advertise the world’s end next Saturday, because naturally the larger effort you put into warning your fellow humans, the better chance you have at spending eternity with God (apparently this early warning stuff is a new philosophy of God’s since the 2007 Pacific Tsunami). What is this poor guy going to do on May 22nd, when his electric bill is due? Even worse than spending all your money, will see large groups of people take their own lives around this date?

The sad thing is, this will repeat itself next year for the widely misinterpreted Mayan Calendar, 2012 groups who are probably looking at the May 21st-ers like they’re nuts. We’ll have to watch these people all over again, on a much grander scale, as the May 21 2011 people are really a small minority when it comes to the doomsday groups.

So instead of being humored by these people as I initially was, I am not laughing anymore. It’s not because I’m worried their prediction might be true – I’m worried for them, because we all know it’s not, and May 22nd is just around the corner. It will be interesting to see where this woman will be next Sunday: