The Universe: tacky crap

I was reading about 20 years of the Hubble telescope and came to the realization that the universe looks like a cheesy prog rock album cover from the early 70s. It looks like something hand-painted by a tasteless, wispy-bearded embarrassment on acid whilst he, she or it was listening to the boring, unnecessary meanderings of Pink Floyd.

It looks like a juvenile psychedelic poster from some cringeworthy hippy boutique, or the unagreeable mess of some kind of unfinished tie-dye process. Garish colours swirl about like Las Vegas in a spin dryer. Unicorns adorned with long beaded necklaces gambol through the candy floss nebulae into the galactic arms of a bell-bottomed Gandalf who utters stoned inanities to the lysergically damaged cosmos.
Stop thinking about the universe as something grand and majestic! Become an ‘Earth Firster’, because our planet has really got some true beauty in it, while out there, looking round the rest of the neighbourhood, I see nothing but tacky crap from the aeons that fashion forgot. I shudder to think of it.

Barry Kavanagh writes fiction, and has made music, formerly with Dacianos.

Contact him here.