This news just in: we’re all going to be immortal by 2045. Better order some more milk. This really mucks up my plans. In 2045, I’ll be 88, which means I’ll be doomed to an eternity of right-wing opinions and micturating in my habiliments.  Actually, reading the small print, it says we won’t need clothes in future. More on that shock news later.

Of course, not wishing to rile militant wrinklies, let me first acknowledge there are many 88-year-olds out there who are physically and mentally functional. Still, it’s surely arguable that, if you’re going to be immortal, it’d be better when you’re, say, 36, ie no longer young and daft, and not yet ossified. The reason we’re all going to be immortal is simple. Already I regret that sentence. But here goes: it’s all down to computers. By 2045, they’ll be far more intelligent than us — incredible, I know; more intelligent than the species that draws up schedules for ITV — and it is yonder machines that will figure out how to stop us ageing and dying. […]