I actually feel sorry for this guy, Robert Fitzpatrick, who spent $140,000 of his own savings on a local campaign promoting Harold Camping's prophecy. He found himself made an unofficial spokesperson in Times Square when 6PM, My 21st, came and went without incident.
His signs and posters are everywhere in the subway. There were big vans with loudspeakers emblazoned with "May 21st ! Doom!!!!!!!!!!" all over them roaming around midtown. There were people with signs passing out pamphlets everywhere. Apparently, Mr. Fitzpatrick paid for all of it, and he's not a rich man.
The perils of the literally minded.