I’m A Moderately Sized Asteroid. Smashing Into Your Earth Isn’t Worth My Time
Hurtling through space at blinding speed almost blinded me to the fact that you beat me to the punch
Good day, earthlings! Or should I say, good night? I’m a tractor trailer sized mass of nickel and iron, and I’m about to rock your world at seventy thousand miles per hour. Cue my entrance music. No, not the stupid Crazy Train song from the frazzled human who is so edgy that he now does HR software commercials. Give me For Those About To Rock.
I can’t wait to blast through the atmosphere while you foolish, festering sapiens continue to stare at silica screens, curating social media profiles. As your wonderful Cousin Eddie said, “It’s gonna be a real nice surprise.” But Clark Griswold won’t save you. Hell, Clark Kent is powerless against me.
Even as a snark-laden, hundred thousand ton object, I’m not without empathy. Your struggles with WIFI connectivity, lost AirPods, children talking, long lines at Starbucks, and Botox injection pain are not lost on me. For nine millennia, I‘ve had an uncomfortable magnesium deposit forming on my anterior strata. I feel you, suffering through a five minute wait for a cold brew.
But much more critical issues are at stake. Some of you are fighting over a mouse. A fake mouse. Created for entertainment purposes. Some guy in little cowboy boots doesn’t like the animated mouse, because the rodent likes all the people and all the people’s money.
And now, sadly, you have to deal with me. It’s a Small World, about to get a lot smaller. But consider me a natural, necessary reset button. Before I commit to my final approach, let me take stock of the grandeur I’m about to annihilate.
What about a splash down in the Pacific Ocean? I’ll create a huge tidal wave, ripping through waterfront properties faster than FEMA can say, “We’re doing a heckuva job!” Laying waste to the precious sea mammals and aquatic wonders that you humans hold so dearly, showing your love by depositing 1.8 trillion pieces of plastic into their natural habitat. But what do I know, maybe the remaining whales are really into recycling.
Or, maybe my payload is better suited for the white capped peaks of the Rocky Mountains. You know, the places where you love to hike around in your Merrill shoes, eating granola and talking about the opioid epidemic like it’s happening on Mars.
I just passed Mars, it’s waiting to welcome you. You know, so you can come and wreck it, too. Then you can check that off your bucket list, probably with a little blue check. But seriously, those mountains were gorgeous. It would be have been a true honor to ruin an entire season of snow pack with a single massive strike. Alas, you’ve done the work for me.
Kill the AC DC, set a new course. This was an exercise in futility. Adam McKay was right, you won’t look up. No point in a bolt from the blue. Warming regards, humans.
