Well. Apparently we are operating under a skywards threat. A satellite the size of a schoolbus is due to drop on our head sometime this week, and they have no idea where or when. They are estimating, but with all the moving objects, air resistance, sun spots and such, it’s a pretty wide margin. Apparently only the poles are safe. Not the Polish, mind. The north and south Poles. And the bears and penguins there.
Winnie the Pooh: Look, l-look, Piglet. There’s something in that tree over there.
Piglet: Is it one of the f-f-fiercer animals?
Winnie the Pooh: [lifting Piglet] Yes. It’s a “jagular.”
Piglet: W-What do “jagulars” d-do, Pooh?
Winnie the Pooh: [as he drops Piglet] Well, “jagulars” always call, “Halloo!” And when you look up, they drop on you.
Piglet: I’m looking *down*, P-P-Pooh.
I don’t think looking down will help that much, alas – they say the risk of any person being hit is 1 in 32oo. I don’t know about you, but those odds seem pretty short. I mean, people buy lottery tickets every day and the chance of winning is less than 1 billion to one (slight exaggeration). One in 3200 seems pretty like one of those hospital lotteries that you shell out $100 for because the odds are so good.
I just want to know who.
This is only the beginning. Latest views of the rings of junk around our little planet show a traffic jam of hundreds of alive and dead bits of metal. They are all gradually slowing down and will have to plunge to earth sometime, somewhere. I’d like to feel smug, living on the second floor of a 6 story building, but the reality is I just won’t see it coming. I feel in my conspiracy theory mind that many people have already been smashed by bits of stuff and its all been hushed up to avoid panic. Instead we make movies about asteroids.
Maybe those people with the metal hats know something…