The Universe Doesn’t Give a Flying Fuck About You
Johnny B. Truant
Copyright 2012 by Johnny B. Truant
I've been watching this show lately with my 6-year-old son, Austin, who likes learning about space and planets and black holes and stuff. It's called How the Universe Works.
And man, the universe has one hell of a story to tell.
It all starts with, presumably, the Big Bang, wherein a single point in space barfs forth a hot, violent soup of particles and energy that take a few hundred million years just to cool down enough to begin coalescing into stars. You know... to "cool down" enough to become giant fucking balls of fire.
Stars ignite. Star clusters form, and become galaxies. Rocks in space start running into each other, and a few planets are created.
Eventually, the Earth is born. Hooray!
The Earth sits there for a few more billion years, until, after a lot of back and forth and general bureaucratic indecision, life shows up. Very, very recently, humanity, (which is perfect and unique if you ignore how random it all seems), makes its appearance. Hooray!
That lasts for a little while. Humans thrive. Invent the rotisserie. Build the internet. Watch porn.
After a bit, though (and this part of the story is still unwritten, but definitely coming) the sun sloughs off its outer layers, obliterating all of the inner planets as it dies. Then, as the fusion at the sun's core that keeps it inflated runs out of raw materials, it collapses into a white dwarf, and the solar system weeps as it loses yet another great player to retirement.