Faster, better, hotter, heavier
Hello there, it is I, Harbinger of Horror, Deliverer of doom, Bringer of all Breaking badness, and Destroyer in Chief.
And, no, I am not Donald Trump.
I am the Chicxulub Asteroid, and I have a name. The name is Chicxulub. But here is the thing; NO ONE will say my name. If you hear about me at all, it is usually like this:
“Our extinction rate has not been this accelerated since “the” asteroid hit the Yucatan peninsula, 66 million years ago.” Or, “Millions of years ago a massive meteorite plunged Earth into darkness, and a majority of life forms were wiped off the map.”
Or, even more disrespectfully, they will call me the Cretaceous-Paleogene Impactor event.
Dudes! I am the real thing, an impactor, not an imposter. Not like some people you willingly give name recognition to, even when you’re going to get burned.
The truth is, I impact your life. Even today, if you are not bit in the ankle by a T Rex, or you are not ducking pterodactyls all morning, you are probably a mammal who only exists because I took out the reptilian rivals.
(Note: I do not affect the conspiracy theory reptiles who rule Earth behind closed doors, the lizard people who have successfully, and brilliantly, convinced most of you they don’t exist.) As for getting rid of those guys, you have to do that yourselves.
Humans are so strange. To express myself, I filled the skies with choking smoke for more than 20 months, but you guys do it for decades, maybe even centuries. That blowing smoke does nothing positive for you at all.
My whole life was in a word — meteoric. You whole life is pathetic; as you bury yourselves, your life support system, and yourselves in plastic crap. You will not be able to compete with my powers of mass destruction even though you seem hell bent upon doing so.
I think you dare not say my name because you know this is true. I burned stuff, so you try to burn more stuff. Sad.
Here is the thing. Name recognition matters. I have a name. Chicxulub. It’s not fair that you do not know me by my name. Sure, I may not ultimately be as destructive as Trump, but I glowed an even brighter orange, however shorter-lived, than he does! I also may not be as destructive as he is, but I did burn out more spectacularly than even his longer-lived popularity. My name literally means “Horned blood sucker,” or “horny parasite.” No one has the right to steal my reputation, and call it a business — or policy — plan.
And make America great? I made the AMERICAS great, and I made all of you possible to come and take them away from the larger beasts who lived in America First.
That Trump guy has many names: Orange Julius Caesar, Emperor has-no-clues, Tangerine bad dream, Predator Trump, The Whiny one, Sir bone spurs, Cheeto Jesus, Trumple-thin-skin, The Donaldator, Troll on a roll, and Drumpf.
These are just a few of the more respectful names that guy has been given.
I have just one name. Chicxulub. Why is it so hard to get some respect? Why can’t you people remember just one tiny, little name?
Maybe you think Chicxulub is too hard to pronounce. It’s easy, phonetically: Cheek She Loob.
I have a lot of cheek, but an even wider mouth, bigger than he-who-need- no more-names. The Loob part more or less rhymes with tub, which is much like the nice basin that I made just south of the Gulf of Mexico.
Easy to remember, now, huh? I am Chicxulub, the asteroid. I totally destroyed your world once, and I could do it again if you were not already doing it to yourselves.