I get all wigged out when I read stories about things that happen 300 or 2,000 light years away.
Perhaps I've watched too many episodes of Blues Clues or The Wiggles or some other intellect and soul sucking kids' show, but light years just do. not. compute.
Last night I came across a Reuters story about two Earth-sized planets that astronomers believe collided. They think this because they see massive amounts of dusty particles orbiting a sun-like star. Presumably, the dusty particles are what's left of "Earth" and "Venus".
The story ends with one astronomer asking, Could this happen in our solar system?
Let's hope the hell not.
First of all: Fudge. Novels. Coffee. First kisses and sunny days, warm breezes. And Hawaii.
I don't like the idea of all that going away. One bit.
Although: Bailouts. Hurricanes. Cranky people. Failure.
The thing that sends me over the edge is the LIGHT YEARS.
Scientists are observing events that took 300 years to shoot through the universe and into our telescopes. That is, all the dusty particles they saw were floating around long before the US Constitution was written and ratified.
Surely, by now, another whole planet could've formed and sprouted new, intelligent life that knows how to make good soy lattes and creamy chocolate fudge.
Or maybe that is hoping for too much.
Pondering planet collision and light years makes me feel like a poodle chasing her tail around and around. So why do I try?
Why not just click over to Noggin while I wait for our solar system to explode?
See, you like me better when I talk eyeshadow and cat videos, don't you?