Six of the best

It was the usual Ankh-Morpork mob in times of crisis; half of them were here to complain, a quarter of them were here to watch the other half, and the remainder were here to rob, importune or sell hot-dogs to the rest. (Terry Pratchett, 'Guards! Guards!')

It's been quite a week for asteroids. According to a fellow enthusiast:

...on March 10, 2015, a 12–28 meter asteroid dubbed 2015 ET cosmically “just missed us”, zipping past Earth at 0.3 lunar distances – 115,200 kilometers, or 71, 580 miles.

Then the pocket-sized 2015 EO6 - possibly the subject of this video - whizzed by a similar distance away, followed by 2015EQ and 2015 EK (both between 15 and 33m in diameter) and the slightly smaller 2015 EF and, today, 2015 EO all passing a mere million or so kilometres above our heads.

The startling number of close fly-bys detected recently, even if they aren't of a size to send us the way of the dinosaurs, makes it much easier to appreciate that an asteroid strike isn't a matter of 'if', but of 'when'.

Eschatology aside, I rather suspect most of us aren't exactly prepared for this. True, official bodies have been undertaking mock exercises, which has to be a good thing, but, on an individual level, I don't see much hope for a sensible and reasoned reaction.

Part of the problem is the constant cries of 'Wolf!' from the media. We've become accustomed to a sort of semi-permanent wibble about everything from global warming to imminent food shortages in the Home Counties while life goes on seemingly unaffected; like children dropping crisp packets on their way home from yet another anti-littering PSHE lesson, the population has ceased to take any notice of what is being said.

Occasionally, however, a particularly alarmist message gets through and we are treated to the edifying sight of supermarkets besieged by shoving hordes squabbling over the last baked goods, fearful lest a threatened snowstorm should delay deliveries and plunge them into an appalling carbohydrate shortage. So used are we to instant gratification that even the mildest of deprivation seems to bring out the worst in some people.

Should a diminutive asteroid land on some part of our green and pleasant land tomorrow, I hope the affected population will find some measure of altruism and organised response. Failing that, I fervently hope those most likely to act selfishly or exploit the situation are squarely underneath when it hits (along with a few particularly deserving cases; I have a carefully-maintained mental list).

Meanwhile, every fly-by is an excuse for a drink and this week, in spirit at least, we will be broaching a bottle of Jimkin Bearhugger's finest to drink to all six, before raising a seventh glass in salute to the much-lamented Terry Pratchett.

Profit of doom

If you're planning to jet off for a late-August holiday abroad, it might be an idea to work out an overland route home just in case.

Iceland's Met Office on Monday raised its risk level to the aviation industry for an eruption at its Bardarbunga volcano to orange, which is the fourth level on a five-grade scale.

The alert has been prompted by an 'earthquake swarm' in the area. While there's no sign of an imminent eruption, the local authorities are concerned enough to have closed roads in the area as a precaution against floods caused by melting of the Vatnajokull glacier.

An explosive eruption could produce an ash cloud similar to the one that grounded European aircraft in 2010 (regular readers may remember the saga of the nephew stranded in Sicily after a field trip to study a resolutely uncooperative Mount Etna - should have gone to Iceland!).

It was a massive eruption in the Vatnajokull area that led to catastrophic famine in Iceland in the 1780s and arguably contributed to the French revolution by causing crop failures in France; while the Icelanders are now far better equipped to survive, the impact of a similar event on the aviation industry today would have far-reaching economic consequences.

It's a salutary reminder that Nature has plenty of surprises up her sleeve for those who rely too heavily on modern technology. Still, at least it appears that the recent rumours circulating of an imminent Yellowstone supervolcano eruption - also based on seismic activity - have been dismissed as a hoax.

We predicted a few months ago that, with the summer dearth of asteroid close approaches and nothing scoring more than 0 on the Torino Scale, apocaholics would be looking elsewhere for thrills 'so look out in the coming months for dire predictions of mega-tsunami, solar flares and the release of methane clathrates'.

Sure enough, in recent weeks we have been treated to

Killer solar superstorm could destroy Earth at ANY MOMENT, scientists warn (Express)

along with the interestingly forthright

'We're f*****': Climate change will be catastrophic for mankind after study reveals methane leaking from the Arctic Ocean, scientist warns (Daily Mail)

and, although no mega-tsunami scares have emerged recently, the media have been making up for it with exciting headlines about the 'killer asteroid headed straight for us' which actually translates as 1950 DA's 1-in-300 chance of impact eight centuries hence.

The prospect of a potential volcanic eruption in the near future must therefore have been greeted with delight in many newsrooms, however grimly it may be viewed by those potentially on the receiving end. In short, disaster sells.

Meanwhile, in the Tavern, it's been a long time since we toasted a passing space rock and the next one isn't due until mid-September.

Perhaps we should start drinking to volcanoes as well.


Update: The Cynical Tendency takes a more intellectual approach and examines the political implications of a serious eruption.

The end of the world is a little less nigh

There's sad news this week for those of an apocaholic disposition.

Recent observations have downgraded the impact threat from 2007 VK184 from its previous score of 1 on the Torino scale, meaning that, since the same thing happened to 2013 TV135 last November, there is now no asteroid scoring higher than 0.

To put this into perspective, the Torino scale of potential asteroid impacts, after 0 (no threat), goes from 1: 'A routine discovery in which a pass near the Earth is predicted that poses no unusual level of danger' to 10: "Oh shit! It's heading right for us!"

(Or, as the scale rather more sedately puts it, 'A collision is certain, capable of causing global climatic catastrophe that may threaten the future of civilization as we know it.')

Of course, there are still the known unknowns out there, giving us the very real possibility that oblivion may strike without warning, but we are no longer, as NASA's finest would say, 'in  a non-zero impact probability situation'.

That being so, apocaholics must look elsewhere for their thrills, so it is fortunate that, right on cue, footage of herds of bison (or, if you prefer, buffalo*) 'fleeing' from Yellowstone has gone viral - "Hey, fellas, the big one is about to go pop!"

Fuelled by the announcement of the Park's biggest 'quake for more than three decades, US survivalists have gone into overdrive preparing for the eruption of the Yellowstone Supervolcano and the potential resulting ash cloud, helpfully encouraged by lurid online speculation.

The explanation, according to experts, is far less exciting. Earthquakes are hardly unusual in Yellowstone and the beasts were simply following their usual winter grazing migration pattern; on the day the 'stampede' was filmed, they were unusually frisky because of the spring sunshine.

With the absence of any known asteroid threat and a quiet few months in prospect - there are only a handful of approaches closer than 1.5million km predicted for the rest of this year - apocaholics clearly have to get their kicks where they can, so look out in the coming months for dire predictions of mega-tsunami, solar flares and the release of methane clathrates.

There is, after all, no such thing as a redundant prophet of doom.

*By coincidence, the same buffalo (or bison) are currently in the news because of the proposal that the Nez Perce tribe should be allowed to hunt them inside the National Park - concerning, as it does, competing claims of animal rights, Native American culture and environmental protection, the subject has produced a veritable cornucopia of intellectual contortions from readers of the Guardian.

Chariots of the Rock Gods

Some time ago, we reported that Bruce Dickinson was backing a project to build a modern-day airship.

Mainstream production came a step closer this week with the unveiling of the Airlander, a 92m long craft filled with enough helium to make the Treorchy Male Voice Choir sound like a chorus of gnats. The vehicle could provide an ingenious solution to the problems of moving heavy items in areas with no ground access or runways.

Dickinson himself has played an active part in the publicity, appearing on the Today programme where he memorably compared the Airlander to one of the Thunderbirds (to the secret delight, I imagine of a host of forty- and fifty-somethings). He now has plans for a non-stop trip twice round the world:

"It seizes my imagination. I want to get in this thing and fly it pole to pole."

Mine too. If there is anything that might serve as some consolation for this week's conspicuous lack of giant serpents, wrathful Norse Gods and supernatural wolves, it's the thought of Iron Maiden's lead singer cruising above our heads in something that looks like Thunderbird 2.

Ragnarök and roll!

With only a few hours to go before Fenrir the Wolf bares his fangs and the mighty god Thor battles the serpent Jörmungandr, heralding the Twilight of the Gods and the end of life as we know it, the Times quotes a latter-day devotee of Odin who definitely has the right attitude:

"I'm all prepared - I'll be in the pub at 10am and if the world is still here by the time I get home, I'll be pleasantly surprised."

Lost, stolen or strayed

There was cheering news recently for those of us of an absent-minded nature; something went missing this week besides which all those car keys, glasses and phones pale into insignificance.

The 270-metre space rock known as 2000 EM26 was slated to skim past Earth early on 18 February, coming within 3.4 million kilometres of our planet.

So far so routine - it's been a busy week and we don't tend to get excited unless an asteroid gets closer than 500,000km or so - but there's more:

When a robotic telescope service trained its eye on the predicted position, the asteroid was nowhere to be found.

Oops! Admittedly there's very little chance of it heading in our direction, though it's a happy coincidence that the Viking Twilight of the Gods is, in theory, due this weekend. (Other predicted events of Ragnarok include earthquakes and vast floods, just to let you know...)

The first thing you usually ask when something goes missing is, "Now, when did I see it last?" In the case of 2000 EM26, it was back in 2000, when it was discovered and briefly observed by astronomers. As a result of those calculations, observers at SLOOH lined up their lenses ready for a live broadcast of the flyby this week.

Instead, like hopeful paparazzi outside a stage door, they waited... and waited... and waited. Although there is usually some measure of uncertainty, it's not entirely reassuring, given the number of the things hurtling round out there, that there is such a substantial margin of error.

Now SLOOH's CEO has been reduced to putting up forlorn notices on the virtual lamp-posts of the internet calling on amateur astronomers to keep an eye out for the thing. Sadly there's no reward - just honorable mention on their website.

Still, if you happen to see a large space rock hurtling past you this weekend, it might be kind to let the chaps at SLOOH know about it - unless, of course, it's headed straight for us, in which case apocaholics of a Viking persuasion are in for the ultimate treat.

See you in Valhalla!

Contains moderate peril

We don't tend to get excited about asteroids unless they pass within the Moon's orbit but, in the case of 2013 XY8, we're prepared to make an exception.

2013 XY8 will be zipping past a mere 750,000-odd km away later today - or two lunar distances -  but, according to NASA's Near Earth Object Program, after a few more passes, the 40m wide asteroid has a 1-in-1,120 chance of an Earth impact on the 12th of December 2095.

This gives NASA & Co plenty of time to investigate ways to deflect it should the odds shorten further, though it is, in a way, disappointing that current reports suggest the favoured option will not be painting it white to increase solar deflection.

Unless someone comes up with an equally elegant and ingenious solution, we're back to Bruce Willis and the nukes.

All this talk of asteroid deflection may, of course, be rendered entirely academic if things start hotting up at Yellowstone's volcano. New measurements released this week show that it's about 2.5 times bigger than early estimates suggested:

The team found that the magma chamber was colossal, reaching depths of between 2km and 15km, the cavern was about 90km long and 30km wide.

The BBC report includes a spectacular simulated satellite view of a massive ash cloud emanating from the area, then spoils the effect by adding a caption which helpfully states the bleeding obvious:

It is unclear when the Yellowstone supervolcano will erupt again

Since all the calculations are based on three known eruptions, and the margin for error is in the order of millennia, the chances of anything kicking off in the lifetime of this blog are remote - though I promise I'll post on it the minute I hear of something happening there.

It's a reminder that, in the geological scheme of things, we are about as important as bacteria on the surface of a football; if enough of us act together we can cause some unsightly blemishes and bad smells but the football, by and large, ignores us.

I have a great respect for geologists, who somehow navigate the existential perils of what is essentially Douglas Adams' Total Perspective Vortex:

The prospective victim of the TPV is placed within a small chamber wherein is displayed a model of the entire universe - together with a microscopic dot bearing the legend "you are here". The sense of perspective thereby conveyed destroys the victim's mind.

Here in the Tavern, we  prefer to retreat to the immediate certainties of a brimming tankard and a worthy toast.

Ladies and gentlemen, let us drink to 2013 XY8 - many happy returns!

Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside!

For a supposedly seafaring nation with a strong maritime tradition, it's odd how many people each year get into trouble because they have failed to grasp the idea that the sea goes up and down twice a day and that waves generate considerable force.

And that is without the extra hazards of water-borne stones and debris caught up in rough seas and propelled with enough force to cause serious injury or kill.

This week's tidal surge, unsurprisingly, brought out the Darwin Award contenders in droves. One particular example sticks in the mind; according to a policeman in Southwold (quoted in the BBC live coverage):

"We had to drag a photographer off the prom that was laying there with his legs wrapped around a metal railing, photographing the waves going over the top of him."

And amid the myriad examples, as I've said before, there really ought to be a special category for those who, having reproduced, appear to be doing their best to rectify the situation by disposing of themselves and their progeny in one fell swoop:

Police in Yarmouth urged 'sightseers' to stay away, saying they were placing themselves at 'significant risk'. 

They said crowds, including people with small children on their shoulders, had been seen gathering close to the seafront.

Meanwhile, in Scarborough, a photographer recording the predictable foolhardiness of White Van Man scooped an unexpected bonus; yes, that really is someone pushing a pram along the notoriously dangerous seafront in a storm.

(photo: Reuters via Daily Mail)

And finally, if you will forgive a bit of uncharacteristic whimsy, amidst the formulaic coverage by tired reporters who already knew that, even if they gave their all, the results would be eclipsed by the media Mandelafest and relegated to an edited slot on the local news, this was a welcome breath of fresh air.

Be patient - the presenter doesn't appear until 30 seconds in - and do watch to the end for a charming display of incipient apocaholism.

(credit to Sky News for the discovery)

Geology fail

From, of course, the Mail...

Europe's largest and most volatile volcano Mount Etna spews molten lava from the earth's core thousands of feet above the Sicilian countryside



...but then, why let the facts get in the way of a spectacular headline?

Quote of the week

From veteran astronaut Rusty Schweickart, speaking at a US conference on our current ability to cope with a potential major asteroid impact:

“If we don’t find it until a year out, make yourself a nice cocktail and go out and watch.”

No news to some, of course, but I like his style!

The end of the world?

Honestly! I leave the blog unattended for a few days and, while I'm away, we have solar flares, an earthquake off the coast of Japan and a newly-discovered asteroid flying by inside the moon's orbit, not to mention the storm brewing in mid-Atlantic.

So, where to begin? Solar flares seem to have taken a back seat recently, which is odd, given the impact that major solar activity could have on today's technology-reliant society.

When aimed directly at Earth, X-class sun eruptions can interfere with satellite-based communications and navigation systems and also endanger astronauts in orbit.

Although the sat-nav on the Tavern's coach-and-four can cock things up quite successfully without extra-terrestrial intervention - after which she pauses briefly, then huffs 'recalculating' in hurt tones, as if it were all our fault - this is potential disaster territory when applied to major infrastructure.

The Japanese earthquake, although measuring 7.1 on the Richter scale, passed off largely without incident, as did the aftershocks, though I imagine the inhabitants of the Fukushima area had an uneasy few hours. In fact, Friday saw a surprising number of earthquakes, judging by the USGS map (a useful reference for which I am originally indebted to Demetrius, always a fount of knowledge on the subject).

Meanwhile, as if this were not enough, on the same day 2013 UX2 zipped past a mere 150,000km away, having been spotted only the night before, yet another reminder of the known unknowns out there. Admittedly, an impact wouldn't have sent us the way of the dinosaurs - estimates place it between 3.8 and 8.4m in diameter - but it would have been enough to make an impressive bang, nonetheless.

All in all, yesterday was quite a day for those of an apocaholic disposition, and, as if that were not enough, we in the UK  are now being told to batten down the hatches in preparation for the meteorological bomb headed in our direction.

Back in the 80s, global thermonuclear warfare was the name of the game; 'Protect and Survive', they said, which was scant consolation if you lived near a prime strategic target. Still, whitewashing the windows and levering the door off its hinges would probably have distracted the populace from the unedifying spectacle of local bigwigs scuttling for their council-supplied shelters.

These days, thanks to improved detection techniques, we can take our pick of  potential catastrophes ready to wipe us out in a variety of interesting and spectacular ways - I wonder if the local council still have their bunker ready. We are surely overdue for something major - look what happened to the dinosaurs and they hadn't even invented scripted reality or 'Extreme Celebrity Spa'.

The gods may once have played at dice, but I'm inclined to think they have moved on to a cosmic game of Mousetrap or Buckaroo; deep down, we all know that, sooner or later, something's got to give and the world as we know it will all come crashing down - an idea that has been profitably exploited by writers, Hollywood and, for that matter, several major religions.

Still, in the meantime, we invite you to raise a belated glass to 2013 UX2 to speed it on its way.

Carpe diem!

Apocalypse 2032

So, once again, we are in, as our transatlantic cousins would say, a 'non-zero impact probability situation'.

This is, of course, our new friend 2013 TV135, a 1,300' wide hunk of rock whizzing about the solar system which was spotted last month.

The news has, predictably enough, sent the tabloids into overdrive:

Nasa admit huge asteroid could destroy Earth in just NINETEEN years (Star)

and

Huge asteroid 'will hit earth in 2032' claim astronomers (Express)

Which, once you have eliminated the inevitable hyperbole, translates as 'current  observations indicate a 1 in 19,000 chance of striking the Earth in 2032' - those observations providing just ten days' worth of data so far.

What seems to have got everyone so excited is the announcement that TV135 has been given a rating of 1 on the Torino scale, one of only two in that classification at present.

And even that, when you get down to the detail, isn't quite as exciting as it sounds; the scale goes from 0 to 10, and 1 - 'Normal' - doesn't even make it into the yellow zone, let alone orange or red:

A routine discovery in which a pass near Earth is predicted that poses no unusual level of danger. Current calculations show the chance of collision is extremely unlikely with no cause for public attention or public concern. New telescopic observations very likely will lead to re-assignment to Level 0.

Still, why let the details get in the way of a good headline? It's a tabloid editor's dream; too far into the future to spark a mass panic but threatening enough to create a sensation.

It would be pleasant to think that this major global threat - even if it exists largely in the minds of sensation-hungry journalists - might bring about a radical improvement in behaviour and provide humanity with a new sense of purpose, but I suspect much of what we laughably call civilization is too far gone for that.

When the idea of impending doom took hold in plague- and war-ravaged 14th-Century Europe, society polarised into religious fanaticism and hedonism, some groups becoming ever more extreme in asserting their own religious superiority while others descended into a last-ditch Bacchanalian frenzy.

Somehow, we seem to have got to that stage before the threat arrived.

Whew - that was close!

Another day, another asteroid.

Russian observers claim to have spotted a 15m wide object that passed the Earth on Friday night at a mere 11,300km from the planet's surface.

Their findings are still awaiting confirmation, but if they are right, this one came out of the blue without warning and passed by an astronomical whisker away, inside the orbit of geostationary satellites - in fact, it was at first believed to be a stray piece of orbital debris.

Meanwhile, the same night, at even closer quarters, a meteroid was filmed burning up in the atmosphere across fourteen states of the USA. Fireballs are a reasonably frequent occurrence, but this seems to have been a particularly spectacular example.

It's likely this will be put down to random coincidence, in much the same way as February's Russian fireball was deemed to have no connection with 2012 DA14 which passed by the same day,

Nevertheless, though the  risk tables of NASA's Near Earth Object Program currently list only one asteroid in the category 'merits careful monitoring' and that won't be along for another 35 years,  it's food for thought and a reminder that, amid the vast emptiness of space, there is bound to be a rock out there with our name on it - or even two.

Still, a passing space rock is always an excuse for a drink; to brighten a Monday evening, I invite you to raise a glass in salute to the as-yet-unnamed asteroid and the eagle-eyed Russian astronomers.

Na Zdorovie!

Small... far away

Exciting news this week; asteroid 2013 RZ53, discovered only five days ago, will be flying by tonight less than two thirds of a lunar distance away.

Sadly for those of an apocaholic disposition, the celestial body about to inflict a near miss upon us would probably fit comfortably into your sitting room and, anyway, would almost certainly burn up on impact long before it crashed through your roof.

It's amazing to think that asteroid detection has now reached such a level of detail that objects less than three metres across can be spotted hundreds of thousands of miles away.

At the opposite end of the scale, the impressive 230km-wide 324 Bamberga passed us last Friday at  the rather more respectful distance of just over 120 million miles.

So which is the more interesting; the near approach of the undeniably dinky RZ53 or the dignified progress of the distant Behemoth? Judging by the coverage, it's more or less a dead heat.

Human nature being what it is, this is merely an extension of the principle that governs our news media; stories are prioritised through an unwritten calculation of scale and distance. The further away the event, the larger it has to be to attract our attention.

It's hardly surprising that our principal concern with asteroids has to be how they affect us, so, perhaps, we should be worried that, of the ten most recent Near Earth Objects (admittedly 'near' in this case means at a distance of between 886,000 and 27,000,000 km), six were  discovered only this year.

Or perhaps, at least here in the Tavern, we should simply for get about it and salute RZ53 in our customary way.

'Drink!'

Out of the blue

No sooner have we seen the back of DA14 and the Russian fireball (and while we're still wrangling about whether the two are connected or simply a cosmic coincidence of truly astronomical proportions*) than another space rock is whizzing past our ear - in cosmic terms, at least.

The (very) newly-discovered 2013 EC has crept up on us unnoticed, which is hardly surprising, given it's only around 15 metres wide, and will pass just inside the moon's orbit at 7.35 this morning - sadly inconvenient timing for our usual celebration but you might like to give it a friendly wave as you eat your breakfast or travel to work.

Suddenly asteroid detection and diversion is the issue of the day in scientific circles, with conferences and calls for radical new strategies on every side; I imagine Lembit Opik is laughing hollowly to himself, having spent much of the 1990s being dismissed as the Chicken Licken of British politics for campaigning for that very thing.

It's an interesting result of improved technology; as our powers of observation increase, so does the perceived threat. The asteroids were always there, beyond the scope of our limited vision, just as disease-bearing microbes existed long before we had the means to detect them.

The same thing could be said for the DNA 'contamination' of meat**. The very nature of slaughter and preparation means that, for as long as humans have eaten animals, some form of cross-contamination must have been taking place at a microscopic level and it's hard to see how it can be entirely avoided.

Does knowing about it really make any difference?


*Frank Davies, for one, remains to be convinced by the official line. [link now corrected]

**The inspiration for a brilliantly satirical post by A K Haart published one minute after this one; perhaps coincidence is the order of the day after all.

Paint your spaceship

Yee-ha! There's gold in them thar asteroids - along, it is believed, with platinum and a host of rare minerals.

We took a step nearer to the realm of classic science fiction this week with the launch of this year's second asteroid-mining venture. One might be seen as eccentricity; two within a month start to look like a gold rush.

Deep Space Industries plans to launch three laptop-sized craft on asteroid flyby missions while its rival, the even more grandiosely-titled Planetary Resources, intends to send a fleet of small craft into Earth orbit, a posse of tiny prospectors looking for that elusive glint of something valuable in passing rocks.

It certainly makes a change from seeing asteroids merely as incoming missiles and a threat to humanity, though those of an apocaholic disposition might enjoy contemplating the potential risks of trajectory perturbation caused by mining activities.

While the economist sensibly points out that, should vast reserves of platinum be a) discovered and b) brought back, the resulting depression of the markets would affect the long-term profits of the operation, DSI's David Gump ultimately has his eye on higher things.

Mining metals in space and constructing spacecraft components in orbit would eliminate the need for materials to be brought out of Earth's gravity well at great expense. Even more conveniently, ice from asteroids and comets could one day fuel the next generation of space exploration.

Add in inventions such as the inflatable living module that can be shot into space compressed into a 7-foot tube and suddenly the visions of Arthur C Clarke, James Blish et al. don't seem so far away any more, though with advances in robotics, I doubt we will ever see independent space prospectors like the husband-and-wife team in Bertram Chandler's charming short story, 'The Half Pair' (which, incidentally, contains one of my favourite sci-fi quotes: 'Spaghetti and free-fall don't mix').

And with advances in carbon nanotechnology keeping pace, future generations may yet see the much-debated space elevator constructed on the moon or Mars. Perhaps DSI's Firefly craft and their larger Dragonfly successors will herald the beginning of a new age in extra-terrestrial activity.

After all, at the start of the Californian gold rush, who would ever have believed that some of that gold would one day be an essential component of the lunar landing module?

Little Miss Safe and global catastrophe

The recent freezing weather has brought us a seasonal Darwin Award hopeful in the shape of Capital FM newsreader Laura Safe (no, really!), who this week provides a fitting metaphor for the state of our society.

Engrossed in sending a text to her boyfriend, Miss Safe walked down the steps out of Birmingham's Mailbox shopping centre and straight into a canal.

Fortunately, according to news reports, a gallant passer-by was on hand to fish her out of the icy water and she is none the worse for her ordeal - though I suspect her colleagues will be indulging in a certain amount of amusement at her expense.

Little has changed, then, since we reported the fate of the young man who ran into a tree while informing the world via twitter that he was 'running to work; very late'. It really makes you wonder whether Leg-Iron was right back in April and evolution is now operating in reverse.

In fact, given the way the young are now using their mobile devices as external hard drives for their brains and the Nanny State is doing its best to render obsolete any remaining survival instincts, we seem to be rushing headlong into Decline and Fall.

The popularity of texting means we'll probably hang on to our opposable thumbs, but thinking is rapidly being outsourced to the extent that we'll soon be needing constant electronic reminders to eat, sleep and go to work and an ever-watchful Nanny State to keep us safe.

Those of us who presume to take command of our own behaviour - 'I am the master of my fate' - will doubtless come to be seen as dangerous subversives and watched with suspicion, lest we contaminate the herd. All in all, if this is the future, then humanity is rapidly approaching its sell-by date.

That being so, one might argue that there is some modicum of comfort in big-budget disaster movies - at least for the apocalyptically inclined.

Conveniently, while researching a previous post, I stumbled across a video clip which enables the viewer to enjoy a generous helping of cinematic mega-disaster without having to sit through all the tedious human-interest stuff (though I do like the plucky Brits in 'The Day After Tomorrow', stuck in their bleak, woollen-clad, sepia-tinted time-warp).

Anyway, for those who wonder if our time is up and enjoy the odd CGI global conflagration, supervolcano or bolt from the heavens, here's a little mid-week treat (essentially 'Name That Tune' for apocaholics):

Now this is starting to get creepy...

Basking in yesterday's unaccustomed glory of a posted prediction being proved right thanks to Ed Miliband, I happened to stumble across this in the Huffington Post:

December 21: Mayan's End Of World Calendar Linked To Gangnam Style's Psy

It was a slightly unnerving moment, given that back on the 28th of November - 'Gangnam Style: the beginning of the end?' - I was pondering the baffling global success of this musical homage to Korea's version of the Sloane Ranger and idly speculating about its significance:

And now it's become the most watched YouTube video ever. While eschatology isn't my specialist area, something about this ubiquity is uncannily reminiscent of the kind of inexplicable global phenomena that are supposed by major religions to herald the end of the world. 

Maybe the Mayans were onto something after all....

Now, it seems, that old apocaholic Nostradamus is getting in on the act. According to an interpretation permeating the blogosphere, 'Gangnam Style' uncannily matches a typically cryptic prophecy from among the thousand he published in 1555:

”Du matin calme la fin viendra

 Une fois le nombre de cercles alignés à 9 sera,

Du cheval qui dansera”. 

"From the calm morning, the end will come, once the number of aligned circles from the dancing horse reaches 9."

'Calm Morning' is, it appears, an approximate translation of the performer's name, the 'dancing horse' refers to his signature galloping moves and (a bit tenuous, this one) the number of YouTube visits is getting interestingly close to 1,000,000,000 - nine zeros, see?

Michel de Notre Dame - aka Nostradamus; any self-respecting astrologer needs a catchy handle  - had what must be the ultimate lucky break for a would-be prophet during his lifetime when one of his verses seemed to have predicted the death of Henri II in a jousting accident - at least once he had helped his readers sort out all the allegorical references to lions and cages.

Largely on the basis of this, and the endorsement of his No. 1 fan, the Dowager Queen Catherine de' Medici, he built a reputation as a seer which has lasted over five centuries, leading devotees into fantastical intellectual contortions in their hindsight-fuelled attempts to make his verses correspond to real-life events.

That being so, I suppose it was only a matter of time before someone tried to link him to the Mayan calendar, but the way it seems to have surfaced at about the same time as my facetious post seems just a little odd.

I can't say that I am personally expecting the end of the world at 11.30am on the 21st - among other things, it would be particularly galling for the Urchin, who would then have spent his last few minutes in the dentist's chair - but you have to admit the coincidence is a striking one.

And if the world does end on Friday, how frustrating it will be to have belated proof of a previously undiscovered gift of prophecy!

Gangnam Style - the beginning of the end?

At the risk of being accused of fiddling while Rome floods, today seemed a good time to share this:

The satirical tricoteuse of Delit Maille* has turned her attention to the ubiquitous Gangnam Style video in her own unique fashion.

Actually, I have to admit I've never knowingly heard the song - when I watched the video for research purposes I had to do so without sound - so I apologise if I have inadvertently inflicted an earworm on anyone.

What interests me is the way this phenomenon has swept the media world, with amateur tribute performances in settings as diverse as international sports matches, Google HQ, Eton College and Chequers. Covers and parodies abound, while Ai WeiWei, Amnesty International and Free Tibet have all enlisted the dance for political purposes.

That being so, it's hardly surprising that the Righteous have jumped on board:

The American Council on Exercise estimated that dancing "Gangnam Style" will burn 150–200 calories per half hour and the song was used by Northampton General Hospital to promote hand washing as part of the 2012 Global Handwashing Day on October 15.

And now it's become the most watched YouTube video ever. While eschatology isn't my specialist area, something about this ubiquity is uncannily reminiscent of the kind of inexplicable global phenomena that are supposed by major religions to herald the end of the world.

Maybe the Mayans were onto something after all....

*roughly translates as Outlaw Knitting as well as sounding like Daily Mail - un vrai coup de génie linquistique. For those who prefer a rather more cultured subject, I recommend her recent post, Tricote ton Manet.

Yippee! It's asteroid time again!

OK, so it's passing by 14 times as far away as the moon, but here at the tavern, a fly-by is always an excuse for a party.

3.2 million miles away may be uncomfortably close on an astronomical scale but 2002 AM31 is unlikely to put a spoke in Lord Coe's plans when it sails past just after midnight tonight, however appealing the prospect.

Still, it's good to see the astronomical establishment considering the apocaholic point of view for once:

Astronomy magazine's Bob Berman says, ‘Near Earth objects are no longer treasures only for the paranoid, or for those who secretly and strangely are rooting for an early apocalypse. [...] These are important entities. Not to mention, there’s always that exciting little hint of danger.

It's one of those odd statistical things; the chances of a substantial asteroid hitting us at any particular time are very small but the consequences if one does are so immense that it becomes a significant risk.

That one will hit Earth some day is a certainty. Recent estimates suggest there are around a thousand lumps of rock measuring over 1km across in orbits that intersect or approach our own, each with the potential to obliterate a country the size of England.

As a rough rule of thumb, a pea-sized fragment hits our atmosphere every 5 minutes, and a football-sized rock every month or so. We can expect something a little larger a couple of times a year and, every few centuries, something in the order of 40-50m across, the last one recorded being the Tunguska impact in 1908 (unless you believe that was an alien spacecraft, in which case you are probably reading the wrong blog).

With all this cosmic pinball going on, it is, perhaps, a shame that our own prophet of astronomical impact, Lembit Opik, has wandered from the true path, drawn into the orbit of some rather more earthly bodies, and abandoned his calls for research into asteroid detection and early warning systems.

Other nations are doing their bit, however; and it turns out that there are plenty of near misses - give or take the odd hundred thousand miles - from rocks we had no idea existed. While those of a nervous disposition might prefer not to know, we have truly entered a golden age for apocaholics, where the hellfire-and-brimstone of religion has been replaced by the strangely comforting ultimate certainly of celestial impact.

So, ladies and gentlemen, please raise your tankards and wish 2002 AM31 many happy returns!