The silliest thing about the potential end of our world is it's so boring, people don't care. Who'd have thunk it?
For all those images of Armageddon - the biblical and Bruce Willis versions - when our species' smartest minds foresaw the end of times, we sat on our collective hands and sighed a collective "meh".
No people gathered on a hilltop. No lovers embracing, lips locked and tears pooling, as a gargantuan fiery asteroid scythes through the atmosphere, burning up everything in an almighty galactic fart.
Nah. We just kept drilling and burning and the last thing anyone heard from a human being was someone complaining about the price of gas.
Perhaps I have read my fellow sapiens all wrong. Perhaps we're actually soothed by the prospect of the party wrapping up, an all-good-things-come-to-an-end approach.