#BackToTheFutureDay Didn't Suck Us Into A Black Hole

I woke up yesterday feeling different. Something felt right.  Something was better.

I went to the one place I knew I could trust to find answers: Twitter. I discovered very quickly the source of my mysterious high. It was #BackToTheFutureDay.

If physicists are to be believed, yesterday was the day we should have been sucked into nothingness. Because yesterday was the day Marty and Doc traveled to in the future, it should have created an information paradox, ripping a hole in the universe and rendering space and time moot, or one and the same, or whatever. The day Y2K and the Mayan Calendar danced la cucaracha. The day dogs and cats started living together. Mass hysteria.

Pfff! Physicists are losers with too many degrees.

Not that I care. Apparently my problem is mental. Psychologists may say my popular fascination with fiction-faux-reality myth-making is like a mental illness, but Honey Badger don’t give a sh*t. The rules of some's fictional world can be understood more easily than yours. Don’t bother me about an election — politics aren’t fun unless you are gaming for a throne. Don’t bother me with history — battling fascism isn’t exciting unless Hydra commits it.

#BackToTheFutureDay came just in time for me, too. Days before, a galaxy a long time ago, far, far away, debuted its final trailer. Star Wars: The Force Awakens hit the airwaves, er, interweb, er, was made publicly consumable, to a fever pitch. Pre-sale tickets went up and promptly crashed a number of web pages due to the volume. Good. Those websites should learn their lesson not the screw with the Force.

You pity me? I pity you. Living so dull a life. You spend quiet moments with friends and family while I troll chat sites about the state of Chewie’s hair. I pity you. Going for coffee and reading a book about Albert Einstein — a book! — while I cruise Twitter at 2 a.m. for how old Einstein the Dog is. You wish you had the commitment to pay a premium in time and money for the right to be first to spend two hours sitting in the dark with the most nostalgic people in the world.

I have a theory that the end of days won’t come because of a disease or a virus, some contagion. It will come because something awesome collapses all our systems.

Imagine if you will: Star Wars hits theatres and the fervor for it is so intense that everything folds under the weight. So many people see the movie or are turned away from seeing the movie, they take to chat boards en masse and collapse websites. The web hosts for those sites follow and collapse because so many of their clients’ help lines blow up. The internet collapses. And because all these companies are financially linked, suddenly, no one can pay anyone and the banks default. Riots break out for the newest Star Wars paraphernalia. Rights groups protest in droves the lack of equality in the film of minority characters and bog down our governments.

On that day, you’re all screwed. But I’ll be good. I got Doc Brown and Marty McFly. We’ll hop in that Delorean and kick ass in 1955. Down to Earth angel, won’t you be mine?

Rhys Dowbiggin @Rdowb @NPBroadcaster