An Intercontinental Ballistic Missile is pretty much exactly what it claims to be. It’s a missile that is capable of bombing the shit out of one continent after having been launched from another continent. The Internet says a minimum range of 3,400 miles, and since most of them use arc-line navigation, that’s pretty impressive. It also mentions that they are typically intended to deliver a thermonuclear warhead. (I say typically, because the optimists among us might want to hold out for chocolate. It’s happened before.)
The good news is, we have lots of them.
The bad news is that taking an Intercontinental Ballistic Missile to an interplanetary war is like taking a knife to a gunfight. Worse. More like taking a spork to a gunfight.
Thermonuclear warhead or not, experts say an Intercontinental Ballistic Missile has less than a 0.ooooooooooooooo72% chance of ever leaving our solar system. And that’s with a good prevailing wind.
The aliens will be back in bed watching I Love Lucy before we ever get a missile past Mars.
It’s just a fact.
What it boils down to is this: We have two options in the upcoming war with the spiral galaxy.
We can go out in our yards, and think about chocolate while we wait to be vaporized, or we can lure them into range by pretending to be an interplanetary sex tourism hot spot.
The Planet Earth needs every patriotic human male to confront this threat head on. Flap those gills a little harder for Mother Earth. Don’t be ashamed to show off those pneumatic bladders. Be generous with that pancreatic cologne. Don’t look at her scolex, and just think of Earth.
Humanity depends on you.
This year, my inspired Alphabetical Challenge theme is “The Letter M”. I’m working my way through the alphabet, one M word, M, person, or M place at a time. No, I don’t have any idea what my Muse was thinking on this one.