In which case; Blimey! They were right after all. Who’d have guessed?
It seemed fairly certain it wouldn’t happen of course. Why would you trust the predictions of a race who aren’t around any more? They clearly weren’t all that great at spotting the future, were they?
But whilst you’re in that eggnog-poisoning recovery stage, and the cat recuperates from the incident with using the fairy-lights-covered Christmas tree as a posh indoor loo, instead of going outside in the rain, I’ve got some more bad news. There’s a space junk apocalypse on the way.
We’re now so dependent on all the satellites orbiting our moist planet, it seems unlikely we’d know how to cope without them. Don’t believe me? Have a think about it – your TV, radio and internet probably get beamed about the planet via them. Your prat-nav relies on them. Your mobile does too. And it’s not just at a personal level. Train systems, road haulage, and even your fridge rely on them.
OK, I might have made the last one up, but it got you thinking, didn’t it? And here’s the worrying bit – the whole lot could get smashed to smithereens any time soon. We’ve already bunged so many of them up into orbit that it’s starting to look like the car park at Asda on a Saturday morning, but with less screaming children and people parking 4X4s badly. And in space. So pretty much identical, then.
There’s loads of other stuff up there too – old booster rockets, random screws and bits that fell off spaceships, and even spaceman poo. And they’re all travelling very, very fast. If one of those bumps into a satellite, it’ll smash it into a million bits. That’s another million, speedy, missiles heading towards more precious satellites. The cascade effect could wipe out our space network alarmingly fast. And a spaceman’s frozen jobbie could be the cause of it. Imagine the exquisite irony if it hit some sort of rotating cooling system first, triggering satellite Armageddon.
So whilst you try and figure out what to do with the 4lbs of turkey you’ve still got left, consider this: How fast would we descend into chaos? Clogged motorways, trains at a standstill... OK, no change there then. But no TV? Radio? Internet? And you wouldn’t be able to send a picture of a kitten to your friend with ’LOL cuuuute!’ appended to it, as your phone would be useless too. No twitter. No facetubebooks.
Whilst society crumbled (the teenagers would be unable to function after 5 minutes), the rot would move up the age chain, until it reached the over 60s... who’d probably be fine. But a bit bemused as to why there was so much screaming, running around, panicking and a sudden occurrence of people actually talking to each other, instead of looking at tiny screens.
Check your phone – still got a signal? No? Uh-oh...
Happy New Year!
This post first appeared in my 'Thank grumpy it's Friday' column in the North West Evening Mail on Friday 28th December 2012. I'm saying that, but I haven't seen the paper, and it isn't on their website again either... so maybe this is the only place it exists. There was going to be a much lengthier intro section featuring the yellowing bit of paper being read by someone in a future where the Space Junkalypse was recent history... but I was already over their 500 word count required, so it remains an odd, and slightly disturbing, thought in my head instead.
(Appropriately, my musical pleasure is decidedly spaced-out today too: Pink Floyd's "A Saucerful Of Secrets".)
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