This title just seems so small, y'know?

I have recently been informed that in approximately 4.5 billion years, this planet Earth is going to cease to exist. I am posting now to make public record of the fact that I am extremely displeased with this developing situation.

What they propose is going to happen is that the sun - friendly emblem of happiness credited for every day we describe as being "nice" - is going to eat us. Or perhaps more accurately burn us to vapor and then suck up the fumes.

Diagram A

I'm going to speak frankly here. I have a problem with that.

We literally worship the thing. Build it all kinds of lovely temples. Our innocent children draw smiley faces on it in their little pictures. Apparently, though, none of this behavior is anywhere near as endearing as we'd hoped. All the supplications in the world don't change the fact that in the grand scheme of things, we rank no higher than hors d'oeuvres.

No, nobody needs to come over here with picture books and explain, using their puppy house-training voice, that I'll be very thoroughly dead by that point anyway. I am quite aware of that likelihood, thank you.

Likewise, however, I think we can all concede that my death is technically just a hypothesis founded on previous evidence until proven fact. I mean what's the ultimate point of all the disease research and guard rails and letting the poor toast burn when we've got a fork sitting right there if we're just taking it as read that we're all going to die anyway? That might be the reality, but surely it's not the goal. What if we did figure it all out? Padded every sharp corner, destroyed every weapon, cured every disease, and reversed aging. Haha! Immortality at last!

Oh crap. The sun's exploding.

It doesn't show a lot of dedication to the cause if we're not looking at the long term, big picture. There's no point basting ourselves in sunscreen now just to watch our pasty flesh sizzle on the bone like pork cracklins in just a few short billion years. Little surprise that so many of us do fail to take proper care of our health. Let's examine the options: die from an excess of drinking, drugs, sleeping around and fattening foods, or be cooked by an exploding star.

Pass the methamphetamine and pop tarts. Exploding arteries seem rather more civilized, even quaint by contrast. Perhaps because there's less soul shredding terror involved.

So let's hear some options, folks. I'd just as soon not evacuate. We're already pretty settled in now, imagine the clutter we'll have accumulated in four and a half billion more years. It would take several generations just to tidy the hall closet. Nobody's going to want to pack all that. We'll need to either fix the sun or replace it. If we fix it the thing's still going to wear out again eventually, so really the best option is to just replace it.

I vote we set Jupiter on fire. Who's with me?