Comedy About the End of the World is a farce about a farce, within which is a further farce. It is a farce in the way that our reality is a farce, although, as its hero says: "it is no time for farces. Reality demands serious dramas." Reality demands, as the writer precisely ascertains, that we ask ourselves about the end of the world, that we ask ourselves whether we need to plant and fence off our own vegetable garden or continue to plant only grass...