Look, there's the old universe slowly doing what universes do which is mostly minding their own business when suddenly this bunch of European hooligans send several trillion-zillion of my hard-earned dosh - yes, alright, it wasn't all my money but it's always important to personalise government spending, it builds the anger! - up into the 'wild black yonder' and then, after a few rowdy handbrake U-turns, they deliberately crashed and smashed it into a bit of space detritus which was meandering along doing no-one any harm. You wait until Capt. Kirk gets a hold of them, he'll teach them how to behave properly!
Of course, in mitigation for what looks like a stellar waste of money, these scientific 'brainiacs' assure us that really, really valuable lessons have been learned. Oh yeah, what exactly? Well, they tell us, we'll find out what the earth is made of, as though anyone cared, and in any case we already know more or less. Or, they plead when they notice your eyes glazing over, we'll find out how life began. Yeah, I'll believe that when I see it but in the meantime who wants to know - and why? And what will they be tempted to do when they find out? And also in the meantime can't any of you space swots think of better ways to blow several trillion-zillion euros?
Of course, I do realise that the sky at night is a beautiful and fascinating spectacle - on the odd occasion when its not cloud-obscured and pissing down with rain - but couldn't they have found something a bit more interesting to aim at than a bit of rubble obviously left over by the 'Oirish' builders who never seem to finish any building works! I mean, they could have aimed at the north star which would at least have satisfied my curiosity. I have looked at it occasionally over the years and I still don't quite understand why, with everything else on the move, it remains in the same place pointing north! I have a theory! I think the whole universe is just a huge, circular, spinning, painted canvas created by that prankster, God, and the north pole is simply the nail he used to fix it in position. Well, that's my theory!
Editor's Note: This blog post was absolutely and definitely NOT written with the aid of three dry martinis! It's just that sometimes I have these flights of fancy.