Or perhaps it did. Not with a bang but a whimper, as T S Eliot, now almost proverbially, said, now almost a century ago.
The computer connects more slowly; the teapot dribbles; the fire gutters in the grate; the milk sours; the car's battery barely turns over the engine; dawn comes late.
Jon : How will it be, this end of which you have spoken, Brother Enim?
Omnes: Yes, how will it be?
Peter : Well, it will be, as 'twere a mighty rending in the sky, you see, and the mountains shall sink, you see, and the valleys shall rise, you see, and great shall be the tumult thereof.
Jon : Will the veil of the temple be rent in twain?
Peter : The veil of the temple will be rent in twain about two minutes before we see the sign of the manifest flying beast-head in the sky.
Alan : And will there be a mighty wind, Brother Enim?
Peter : Certainly there will be a mighty wind, if the word of God is anything to go by...
Dudley : And will this wind be so mighty as to lay low the mountains of the earth?
Peter : No - it will not be quite as mighty as that - that is why we have come up on the mountain, you stupid nit - to be safe from it. Up here on the mountain we shall be safe - safe as houses.
Alan : And what will happen to the houses?
Peter : Well, naturally, the houses will be swept away and the tents of the ungodly with them, and they will all be consuméd by the power of the heavens and on earth - and serve them right!
Alan : And shall we be consumed?
Peter : Con..sum..éd? No, we shall not be consuméd - we shall be up on the mountain here, you see, while millions burn, having a bit of a giggle.
Jon : When will it be, this end of which you have spoken?
Omnes : Aye, when will it be - when will it be?
Peter : In about thirty seconds time, according to the ancient pyramidic scrolls... and my Ingersoll watch.
Jon : Shall we compose ourselves, then?
Peter : Good plan, Brother Pithy. Prepare for the End of the World! Fifteen seconds...
Alan : Have we got the tinned food?
Dudley : Yes.
Peter : Ten seconds...
Jon : And the tin-opener?
Dudley : Yes.
Peter : Five - four - three - two - one - Zero!
Omnes : (Chanting) Now is the end - Perish The World!
A pause
Peter : It was GMT, wasn't it?
Jon : Yes.
Peter : Well, it's not quite the conflagration I'd been banking on. Never mind, lads, same time tomorrow... we must get a winner one day.
