Lately, the namby-pamby bunch of worriers who form the vast majority of the Western world have been getting all wound up about the (inevitable) possibility of this pretty blue bauble of ours getting struck by some great hunk of rock, iron, or ice. Like nobody knew about this. This information has been in the public domain for a very, very long time. So why, at this point in time, are Mr. & Mrs. Joe Average so worried that the Big One is going to come along and personally insult (i.e. annihilate) their particular cozy little patch of suburbia? And why worry about it anyway? The most likely object to fetch us a slap is an unknown comet - and those suckers move so damn fast that there would be, literally, fuck-all we could do about it anyway. The Universe works that way - comets do to inhabited worlds what hypothermia does to old ladies - it fucks them right the fuck up.

Anyway, back to the question - why are people so wound up over this? Me, I blame the Cold War, or rather the lack of one. Seriously - we've spent so long being terrified of instant, widespread destruction descending from above that it's become, at least in the West, a fundamental part of the human condition. Hopefully the gathering tension in the Indian Sub-continent should bring us back to a healthy fear of a far more local form of Armageddon. Perhaps this goes all the way back to pre-history, with humankind always having one eye on the sky, whether out of fear of lightning, God, the Bomb or great big fuck-off rocks. At least it's a solid concern, anyway.

Anyway, for those of you who are genuinely stupid enough to want to live through and (worse yet) after such an event, here's what you should do to prepare for the inevitable civilization-stopper that is, and I repeat - IS - on its way even now.

1. Live well above sea level. This way the huge tidal waves as the entire Pacific Ocean attempts to displace itself 6,000 miles sideways in under forty seconds will pass you by, sweeping up more foolish mortals than yourself and depositing their poor, sad, shattered remains on the newly created beach in Ohio.

2. But not too high up...because there's always the possibility that your mountainous retreat might stock straight out into space after a decent proportion of the atmosphere has been boiled away. Not recommended for heavy smokers or asthma sufferers.

3. Store food. And I mean lots. Your local convenience store may experience re-supply difficulties in the immediate millennium or so after the impact.

4. Do not be tempted, under any circumstances, to go outside and watch what's happening. This is not "Deep Impact". This has far more plot.

5. Always remember, in the last few seconds before impact, to have a good long think about whatever companions you've selected to share your Acme guaranteed impact-proof shelter-o-rama. They may represent the last of, and therefore the future of humanity. Ponder their personal habits. Debate their inability to concede, gracefully, that you are in fact far better at Trivial Pursuit than they are. Measure their personality against important things such as will to survive, willingness to have sex with you, ability to unflinchingly do as you tell them at all times. Hmmm - found anyone wanting in important traits at this stage? Shove the fucking leeches out of the door!

6. Join any local militia or survivalist groups (this one's especially good if you happen to live in the US of A, 'cos we have more of these unhinged maniacs than anyone else does on the planet). It's a well-known fact that these people have access to trillions of dollars-worth of really nice stuff like generators, firearms, jeeps, anti-aircraft weapons, nuclear bunkers and (one day!) the last remaining dental floss in the Solar System. Get really tight with the leader of your local group, wait until he gives you a tour of the local bunker then kill him, execution-style, and take the keys. Easy.

7. Buy a really really really deep mine shaft. Pray that it doesn't fill up with several trillion gallons of displaced Pacific Ocean. 

8. (This one is the most sensible...)... Convince every government in the world to contribute a couple of million dollars a year (i.e. fucking PEANUTS) to the Space Watch network. That way, we'll always know where most of the near-earth and earth-crossing objects are at any one time. Simultaneously, encourage investment of ex-Cold War military budgets into mass-driver technologies, and into the establishment of pilot colony projects throughout the Solar System. Again, cheap (in fact, we could have done it several times over already if only America hadn't wussed out of its Moon program after Vietnam) and, ultimately cost-effective. Ten billion buys you an entire species, folks. Now that's what I call VALUE...

9. (The one I'm doing...) Quit whining. If you're genuinely worried about going out under an open sky, carry an umbrella. It's about all you can do.