HUMAN WRECKAGE

A Declarative Expression of Departure to All That

Following a test flight of the SpaceX rocket SN8 on 9 December the craft returned to Earth with a thud. It blew to bits on impact. The company described the explosive crash landing with the blithe acronym RUD, that is, “rapid unscheduled disassembly.” May the Lizard Thanes of Mars bless your euphemism Elon Musk, you delightfully deranged real life James Bond villain. It’s been that sort of year.

I’ve experienced some interesting times in my life. I’m proud (or ashamed) to say that most were of my own making. But I’ve known no war and, until last March, I certainly hadn’t endured a pandemic, a welcome misanthropic vacation far from the madding crowd. I am a fortunate man. I can afford to stay home, I like staying home and I love the company. Still, there were some lockdown days when my head felt primed for RUD. It’s been that sort of year.

Others have not coped as well as the three of us: me, myself and I. On Christmas Day a Nashville, TN man scheduled his own rapid disassembly. Always wise to plan ahead. He parked his RV on a main thoroughfare and broadcast a recorded warning to passers-by to keep well clear. The collateral damage message segued into Petula Clark’s hit song ‘Downtown.’ Once the authorities dismissed the default terror motive they confessed mystification. The math is pretty simple: “When you’re alone and life is making you lonely” plus the date equals boom! It’s been that sort of year.

Best wishes for 2021 although I suspect the next six months won’t be much different from the past ten. Hang on. Rapid disassembly unscheduled or otherwise never ends well.            

meGeoff has been your most unreliable, unbalanced and inaccurate alternative source of existential dread since 2013. Sign up for e-mail alerts from the Crooked 9, use that thingy on the right. The second wave along with its more virulent cousin is here and so is winter; you’ll need a distraction. Apologies to Robert Graves.