No rapture, so where the hell were the fans?

IF YOU are reading this, then congratulations on surviving ‘The Rapture’, which American lunatic fundamentalists had pencilled in for last Saturday at 6pm.

Clearly if you have this in your hands then the end of the world — the lakes of fire, vengeful serpents etc., etc. — did not quite materialise.

(We never credited these people with existing until the day my wife and I were at the Smithsonian Museum in Washington, standing in front of an exhibition on evolution featuring stuffed monkeys. “Those are NOT your ancestors, Bobby,” said a man behind us to the child by his side. Sometimes we kid each other, even now, that he was talking about the monkeys.)