If you go by the Book of Revelation then the end of the world must be at hand, as scripture tells us that the End of Days will be marked by spectacles beyond imagination – lions making nice with lambs and that sort of thing.

Or Hawks and Swans being plucked to the point of bald embarrassment by two teams that would have been their easy prey in seasons gone by.

In Launceston, Hawthorn’s home away from home where they had won 19 games in a row, a revitalised and relentless St Kilda administered a 75-point thrashing of the kind seldom seen outside a convention of sado-masochists.

And in Sydney it was the Swans taking up what the team’s performance after six games of the 2017 season suggests is a permanent roost in football’s cellar of lost souls after surrendering four premiership points to Carlton in a 19-point defeat.

Sydney now sits winless at the very bottom of the ladder. Hawthorn is not much better in 16th place, with just one victory to its credit.

In a game that saw St Kilda champion Nick Riewoldt boot his 700th AFL goal, the dominant Saints piled on eight goals to one in the third quarter on their way to a 19.16 (130) to 8.7 (55) win.

But such dominance was a distant memory for the hapless, hopeless and generally horrible Hawks, whose lack of pressure and dreadful skills must have made supporters suspect their heroes had been hijacked on the way to the ground and replaced by the Grong-Grong Matong under-16s.

They were that bad – certainly nothing like the team that gave the Eagles the rounds of the kitchen last weekend.

There was plenty to like about St Kilda, who led by 22 points at halftime but deserved to be further ahead after twice as many scoring shots.

The Saints corrected their wayward goalkicking after the break, with the wily Riewoldt reaching the 700-goal milestone after a clever snap around the body.

It was the start of an ugly quarter for the Hawks, who conceded seven straight majors as St Kilda ball magnets Jack Steven, Seb Ross and Dylan Roberton repeatedly hit targets over the back of the Hawks defence.

The statistics at three-quarter time were damning – and will make an unpleasant study topic for Hawks coach Alastair Clarkson, who must be wondering where his players’ competence vanished over the summer break.

By that stage of their utter rout the Hawks had managed 67 fewer disposals, 18 fewer tackles and 14 fewer inside-50s.

Jack Gunston, Luke Breust, Josh Gibson and Isaac Smith were among the Hawks’ premiership players who struggled to make an impact.

Hawthorn’s last loss in Launceston came five years ago to the day – ironically against Sydney, who performed somewhat better, but not by much, against the spirited and determined Blues.

Coach John Longmire is as grim as his Swans’ winless season after the latest drubbing. Photo AAP/Julian Smith

If the Swans were to win, they needed a big game from star forward Buddy Franklin, but opponent Alex Silvagni restricted him to just one goal.

The Blues went on to kick the opening three majors of the final term and cement the win.

In their previous two matches, Carlton had managed just one goal in the third terms while their opponents kicked a total of 13.

But the Blues kicked two goals in as many minutes at the start of the second half.

That became a five-goal run, turning an eight-point deficit at the main break to a 23-point lead.

The Swans kicked the last two goals of the term to stay within touch and trailed by nine points at three-quarter time. But the undaunted Blues replied with five goals to three in the final term.

The only downside for Carlton was the shoulder injury that saw Jack Silvagni – Alex’s second cousin – leave the ground and the match after a tooth-rattling collision with Zak Jones.

In recent years the whipping boy for any team looking to pick up an easy four points, if today’s performance is any indication Carlton barrackers can rejoice in definite signs of a Blues renaissance.

As for a humbled Hawthorn and sloppy Sydney, well their supporters must be hoping that the end of the world is indeed nigh

Given how the mighty have fallen, the blast of angelic trumpets must seem preferable at this stage of their dreadful seasons to enduring the living hell of further humiliations. – with AAP