The prophets have changed—from evangelical bestsellers to tech billionaires—but the song remains hauntingly familiar.
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When a Silicon Valley billionaire starts hosting sold-out lectures on the antichrist, you know we’ve entered strange times. But for those of us who grew up in the 1970s, it’s not just strange; it’s strangely familiar.
I was born in 1969, which means I grew up checking grocery store barcodes for hidden 666s, watching A Thief in the Night movies that gave me nightmares about guillotines, and genuinely wondering if I’d graduate high school before the rapture. My church had prophecy charts mapping Soviet troop movements to Ezekiel 38. At my friends’ homes, end-times paperbacks sat on coffee tables next to Reader’s Digest.
