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SpaceX’s 40,000 satellites will soon be ruining our view of the universe – not to mention aliens’ view of us
My best New Year’s Eve was 15 years ago. A mis-calibrated dose of prescription painkillers in a bed and breakfast near Wootton Courtenay meant I slept through the whole thing. I slept through the fear. I slept through the dread. I slept through the recriminations and regrets. And I slept through Jools Holland insisting on playing inappropriate boogie-woogie piano with – who will it be this year? – Peter Brötzmann, Napalm Death, Youssou N’Dour, Mark and Roxanne from LadBaby, or the future festive ghost of his own grinning self.
This New Year’s Eve I lay on my back in the garden, long after midnight, belly full of Butty Bach™ ® beer and mini Quorn™ ® sausages, and looked at the stars. Do they have elections on those distant worlds, I wondered? Is there an alien Dominic Cummings, and if so, how would you know? Does the alien Sir Iain Duncan Smith eat his own mucus in public like our Earth Sir Iain, or does he just eat crisps? On Alien Sir Iain’s world is crisp-eating considered disgusting, while finger-picked mucus is the cuisine of the Princesses of Mars? And is that the space Jennifer Arcuri dancing round the Pole Star? Remember her? Thought not. Continue reading...