Why is the Apocalypse - so alien to most people today - so pivotal to the creation of our culture and to what we are? Williamson explores this question, offering an introduction to why many of Europe and America's most creative minds believed that they were living in the latter days of the world between 1500 and 1800.

The United States, the only country to have dropped the bomb, and Japan, the only one to have suffered its devastation, understandably portray the nuclear threat differently on film. American science fiction movies of the 1950s and 1960s generally proclaim that it is possible to put the nuclear genie back in the bottle. Japanese films of the same period assert that once freed the nuclear genie can never again be imprisoned. This book examines genre films from the two countries released between 1951 and 1967--including Godzilla (1954), The Mysterians (1957), The Incredible Shrinking Man (1957), On the Beach (1959), The Last War (1961) and Dr. Strangelove (1964)--to show the view from both sides of the Pacific.

"In her brilliant, wide ranging, nuanced study of apocalypse, Keller has written a definitive cultural and theological essay. In this book she is doing the work of the true intellectual: providing learned, passionate guidance for living the good life, all of us together, here and now, on our planet." —Sallie McFague, Distinguished Theologian in Residence Vancouver School of Theology "A richly evocative exploration of apocalyptic's ambiguous possibilities.... Inspiring in the fullest personal, political, and religious senses of the term." —Kathryn Tanner University of Chicago Divinity School "Catherine Keller is a poet among theologians. Her writing attains imaginative heights and depths that expose the flatly prosaic character of most theological work. One finds oneself lingering over sentences, images and tropes, hearing them resonate with connections and insights." —Peter Hodgson Journal of the American Academy of Religion

Despite the world’s insecurities, the most common drama of all is not of apocalypse now, but of apocalypse deferred; the pain of living is having to wait it out. In Apocalypse Then, DeMarinis’s characters try alcohol, they try travel, and (most of all) they try off-limits love. They find themselves in harm’s way, or put themselves there—but in life, as the title story states, "sometimes the worst doesn’t happen."

Shortlisted for the Scottish Poetry Book of the Year 2021 This first anthology of 'Apocalyptic' or neo-romantic poetry since the nineteen-forties includes over 150 poets, many well known (Dylan Thomas, W.S. Graham), and others quite forgotten (Ernest Frost, Paul Potts). Over forty of the poets are women, of whom Edith Sitwell is among the most exuberant. Much of the contents has never previously been anthologised; many poems are reprinted for the first time since the 1940s. The poetry of the Second World War appears in a new context, as do early Tomlisnon and Hill. Here readers can enjoy an overview of the visionary-modernist British and Irish poetry of the mid-century, its antecedents and its aftermath. As a period style and as a body of work, Apocalyptic poetry will come as a revelation to most readers.

In this lively introduction, J. Nelson Kraybill shows how the book of Revelation was understood by its original readers and what it means for Christians today. Kraybill places Revelation in its first-century context, opening a window into the political, economic, and social realities of the early church. His fresh interpretation highlights Revelation's liturgical structure and directs readers' attentions to twenty-first-century issues of empire, worship, and allegiance, showing how John's apocalypse is relevant to the spiritual life of believers today. The book includes maps, timelines, photos, a glossary, discussion questions, and stories of modern Christians who live out John's vision of a New Jerusalem.

the end is near Surviving the apocalypse is one thing. Enjoying life after most of civilization is wiped out -- that's entirely different. Maybe you can outrun an avalanche, or escape a burning building, but can you really cut it after the unthinkable happens? Can you, for example, deal with damn dirty apes, convert your car to run on bathtub gin, or synthesize a species-saving vaccine from your own mucus? No? Obviously, it's not going to be as easy as you thought to come out of Armageddon as the new ruling king of the world. Any chump off the street could be lucky enough to have the immunity to survive the all-of-humanity-killing disease, or be the one dude who happens to make it through a meteor strike. But not everyone will know what clothes to wear to intimidate, or what kind of vehicle you want to be driving in the postapocalyptic wasteland. Not everyone will have the sense to discern whether their food is, in fact, people. You can survive the apocalypse without this book. But the apocalypse isn't the problem: It's what happens afterward. You against the other people left in the world. You'd better be prepared.