Apropos of nothing at all, single malt scotch and a certain other inebriant (cough, cough) make for a righteous buzz.
Think of yourself as a meteorite, zooming through space. Except that from your point of view, you’re not zooming at all; you’re hanging, motionless, with only other meteorites for companions, not even drifting, just endlessly static in a field of stars far denser and more brilliant than atmosphere-bound humans ever experience. Peaceful. Except that every few years, or centuries, or millennia, some damn planet comes crashing through, annihilating you and some hundreds of your brethren.
Meteorite impacts are hard on Earth, to be sure, what with the craters and all… but they’re disastrous for the meteorites.
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