Holy Shit

With all this U2 ruckus sweeping the nation, it’s a good thing there are still a few brave souls out there not totally infatuated with the appearance of Ireland’s latest comedy-rock band on Eddie’s Parade this Friday.

The Rock
The Rock

Our lonely, little, insignificant blue sphere is but a grain of sand in a haystack, a needle along the seashore of the universe. Yet it is ours. It is our rock! Worthy of love and life and defense, ’til death do us part. It is the very rock where our forefathers tilled the soil to make grain. And it is the rock unto which the rock made famous by the Pilgrims lay.

No matter the obstacle, we will prevail. Our way of life, blessed by the one, true, holy and apostolic creator, will be preserved. Might will make right and from the fiery depths of Hell to the stoniest heights of Brim no elemental force shall subject its will before answering to our every beck and call. Our planet shall not perish from this Earth!  We will not allow our livelihood to follow the path oft’ taken — that of the Dodo and Tyrannosaur that have gone before.

No.

Not long ago, and far more recent than the Four Score and Seven Years of lore, our very existence faced a threat that was so insurmountable not even the great and magnanimous Bono, clad in the clandestine canary-coloured spectacles of the scripture, and to whom we will prostrate ourselves on Friday, could stand in its path.

Of course you know of what ravenous event I refer. None other than the 2009 DD45 asteroid that on Monday passed so imperceptibly close to our wide blue yonder that it nearly wiped the smile off the face of every member of mankind in an Armageddon that no amount of “surprise” U2 concerts could possibly alter.

This was our Michael Bayesian future:

Passing no further than a fifth of the distance to the moon, our Rock almost met The Rock in a collision no amount of repair would ever undue.  But we persevered. Through the power vested in CGI technology, a little bit of grit and good ol’ fashioned determination and the best damn deep-water oil drilling team on the planet, we survived.

Goodbye Harry. We will always love you.

Pete

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