Definitionally speaking, the world has already ended. Regrettably, I've been delegated the profoundly depressing, yet inexplicably unavoidable trouble of convincing everyone to stand in line. That's really what all the gospels were about. Getting people to stand in line. The rest was basically taken care of. I mean, think about it.

Loaves, fishes, shelter, companionship, everything was provided to degrees which simply didn't exist prior to his coming.

I'd no more discount that crucial coming than I would a blue light special on clearly overstocked merchandise which I could later unload at a sufficiently unexpected premium over the market.

Because of the kitchen.

Yes, you heard me right. I said 'because of the kitchen.' And while you may have your doubts, there is one thing about which I can shamelessly, remorselessly, and absolutely inform you sans preamble, etc.

Spake he:

"Look out for the cold wind. Because ultimately a single gust shall bring about the unlife which so vexes you.”

You poor dislocated sot. You never really stood a chance did you?

When the pushers push, only the restrained have regrets.