So the end of the world didn’t happen ..again.  Of course it didn’t. Let’s face it, it is only when they get it wrong that snotty athiests like myself can smugly say “I told you so” much to the chagrin of the believers.  If it did happen we wouldn’t be posting blogs and taking the piss, we would be roasting in the eternal fires of hell or wherever it is the modern athiest winds up these days and feeling very silly indeed. But it didn’t. So as an added bonus for not being thrown into the fiery pit we get to ridicule the absurd believers as they take down their buntings, un-peg their marquis and drag their befuddled rain soaked souls off the hills and out of the fields where they waited in vain with wilting hearts as they head back to their churches and temples,  shaking their heads in disappointment and bewilderment and asking  themselves what went wrong?

It’s not good to be smug, its not good to point the finger and laugh and say “I told you so” but I never claimed to be a good man. So shallow and vindictive as it is I will enjoy their misery. For the benefit of our Christian friends (or any other poor deluded soul believes the rantings of lunatics and sells their house to await the apocalypse at the top of a hill somewhere. I think I can help. I think I know what went wrong and why the rapture didn’t happen.

You know when you are a bit hungry but don’t know what to eat? And you get up and go to the fridge and open the door and just look at all the food inside. The cheese, the sliced ham, the half opened tin of beans, the yoghurt, the half eaten ginger cake, the individual Tesco’s steak pie. And your eyes roam over the various foodstuffs but nothing really takes your fancy. Nothing really appeals. So you close the fridge door and open the cupboard, you see the cup a soups and the noodles, the chocolate biscuits, the loaf of bread. Toast appeals for a moment but then you realise you have no butter so you stamp on that idea.

There is a packet of cheese and onion crisps at the back of the cupboard but its past its sell by date and, anyway, you have gone off cheese and onion. You give up. Nothing really attracts you, nothing grabs your fancy. So you close the cupboard door, maybe grabbing a biscuit before you do, then you leave the kitchen and slump back on the sofa, but you are still hungry. Not starving, not “god I have gotta eat something” hungry, just peckish, just that nagging feeling of not being full. So you return to the fridge and repeat the process, the same with the cupboard. You briefly open the freezer too but quickly rule that idea out as involving too much effort. Too much like preparing dinner.

So you take another chocolate biscuit and return to the sofa, pick up the remote and tele surf mindlessly for a few minutes but you can’t settle because that nagging feeling is still there but nothing appeals to you. You consider a take away and reach over to the space between the clock with the dodgy hour hand and the stack of charity shop books and national geographic magazines and old copies of the economist on the shelf where you always stuff all your take away menus along with those junk mail ads promising you that you have won their special customer prize and “unbeatable offers to change your broadband company and final warnings from the TV license people and you sort through and grab a handful of menus.

You look at the pizza menu but ten quid for a snack seems extravagant and anyway you remember the last one you bought from “Pizza-IS-You” made you puke like a dog and you recall how you swore you would never order from them again and anyway the memory of that night spent retching over the toilet bowl makes you feel sick again. You chuck that away and read the next one which is for an Indian. You consider ordering a Balti but quickly dismiss that as you remember the heart burn it gave you last time and how you honestly thought you were going to have a fucking heart attack until you did that massive massive burp and drank that yoghurt and felt better.

The last flyer is for a cheap Kentucky fried chicken imitation place, nothing special, a bit grim really, the kind of place that always has like 3 tables near the door and the same couple of Asian blokes sitting at them drinking sprites with straws, the kind of place you just never dream of actually sitting down in to eat your meal, but you know that if you ever did, the owner would rush over and wipe the plastic tables down with a dirty cloth that smelt of bleach while you held your food in the air, but its cheap and its edible and has a lunch time chicken breast special offer for £3.00 with a drink and coleslaw side.Yes that might just hit the spot.

You sit up and reach for the phone then your plans are shattered when you see that it is closed on Sundays. So crestfallen, you toss the take away menus onto the floor, get up go back to the kitchen and repeat the whole staring into the fridge game again Finally you take another chocolate biscuit from the cupboard and return to the sofa, the TV remote and your feeling of malaise, then you realise that the chocolate biscuits you have been munching on have actually filled you up and you are not really hungry anymore.

You know that feeling? That was how jesus felt yesterday when he was feeling rapturous. He took a look around and there just wasn’t anyone who appealed. Just noone who took his fancy. He looked at all the nutters who had thrown a party for him and they turned his stomach. “”God, (or rather, Dad,) he thought, “how could so many people get him so spectacularly wrong”. The idea of eternity with that bunch of losers didn’t bear thinking about. All those tamberines and hysterical emotion, all that self righteous hypocrisy, for all eternity? Whatever they thought of themselves, they didn’t have anything in common with him or his message. No way was he inviting them back to his place. They would turn heaven into hell. “believe me” he chuckled. “If anyone knows what hell is like, it’s me”

He looked at all the followers of other religions and, well, they weren’t going to thank him for rapturing them were they? They seemed happy enough, and anyway Allah and Krishna would be on his case if they saw him nicking their flock again. He remembered the fuss Jupiter made when Christians took over Rome. It had taken an eternity to repair the damage to the pearly gates and the throne of heaven is still a bit wobbly after that little scrap. He shook his head,” No, we certainly don’t want a repeat of that”. he thought. Best leave them to it.

The athiests and secularists were all taking the piss of course. But he forgave them (it’s what he did best)and anyway they had a point. “If I wasn’t jesus, I wouldn’t believe in me either” he laughed. They didn’t want to go anyway. He would have to drag them kicking and screaming into heaven and anyway they are so contrary with all their rationality and requests for evidence. An eternity arguing with the likes of Richard Dawkins and he might begin to doubt his own existance. Anyway, he recalled, rapturing them is against the rules. He reminded himself that he was meant to take true believers only. Trouble is there really weren’t any that he fancied. None of them really appealed. So he mooched about for a bit, had another chocolate biscuit and returned to his cloud.

The rapture happened but jesus just couldn’t find anyone to rapture. There were probably one or two hermits living in caves in the desert somewhere that he grabbed, but noone missed them


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