I promise I'll catch up on my flist posts soon but here's a quick one just while it's fresh.
Today on my way back to my office from a meeting in Derry, I saw a poster
for the supposed rapture
(you know, the devout suddenly get swept up to heaven and all us evil non-believers get stuck here in hell on earth stuff) that was going to happen on October 28, 1992. It obviously never happened. Seeing this remarkably well-preserved poster from just over 15 years ago brought back one of the few good memories from high school that I can vividly recall.
It was senior year and the day of rapture was upon us. I forget the exact time it was supposed to happen except that it was in the middle of Ms. Phelps' poetry class. My friend Claire and I sat next to each other and we had a lot of fun joining in the big ten-second countdown until the end of the world. We were sadly disappointed when the time came and went with no big event. It was just another poetry class as usual. It was a very good poetry class as usual, but certainly no end of the world.
My guess is the rapture was run by the Church of England and someone representing us non-believer heathens chose cake instead, thus saving us all from eternal hell on earth.