I take it that these people are either heading for the Darwninian Gene Pool Awards or that they are, as they say in this area "'avin' a larf", or perhaps they are rational and intelligent beings with a turtle fixation. An ancient idea was that the Earth was supported by Elephants and Turtles. For thousands of years people have considered the Earth as sphere, at first encircled by spheres that included the Sun and the stars, and later - oh Heresy! - that the Earth circled the Sun.
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| A rough idea of what a Flat earth might look like. |
So, I looked up the Flat Earthers and had a giggle. I could believe Terry Prachett's fictional Discworld for what it was, a comical stretch of the imagination and a great mickey take of our own world, but this lot, nah. What sort of mush do they have for brains? It must be all that junk-food. I note sadly that many of them are Americans, and I thought Americans were... well maybe not.
However, for what it is worth here is a story of one such enterprising nitwit:
The last of the great Flat Earthers.
When Willy Wilson, billionaire entrepreneur and confirmed Flat Earther announced his latest enterprise the world’s media listened.
‘Science is completely wrong,’ he declared. ‘The Earth is a disc and I intend to sail my yacht, the Marco Polo, to the edge and follow it until I come back to where I started.’
‘You intend to sail around the world then?’ asked a young science journalist from the BBC. ‘But can you explain your, er, theory?’
Willy Wilson smiled patronisingly at the eager young man. ‘It is quite straightforward. Imagine you are standing on a cliff right now looking out to sea.’ The great man paused for a moment to allow the young reporter to catch up. ‘You can see that when a ship sails from the shore it reaches the horizon and disappears over the edge.’
Unimpressed the cynical but practical media audience said nothing thus avoiding a further illogical example. They nodded agreement along with the young reporter who was feeling extremely uncomfortable and embarrassed at being the first to ask a question.
‘The ship must find the edge of the world and sails around it until it arrives at a point where it can sail to its destination,’ Wonky Willy Wilson announced and puffing his chest out pointed to it with a long bony finger. ‘And I intend to map the edge properly and return to prove the scientists wrong.’
The young BBC man was tempted to ask another question but instead he left it up to others more experienced with rich loonies to explore the idea. He glowed with embarrassment as others regarded him with pitying looks and light “I’m glad it wasn’t me” smirks. A tour of the yacht and the well provisioned reception made up for the dreadful embarrassment of the conference. The young BBC reporter was sure that Willy was having some fun with the press.
‘Nobody believes that the Earth is flat in the 21st Century, surely? he said.
‘Weird Willy does, and he funds the Flat Earth Society to show it.’ Said one of his fellow journalists.
‘Enjoy the food and drink whilst you can get it.’
And as they say, a good time was had by all.
Willy Wilson sailed on the 2nd April watched by the media as he motored out to sea and set sail. The dancing mast top pennant disappeared over the horizon and with that last glimpse the media forgot about him. However, Marine Authorities had insisted he report his progress via the satellites orbiting the globe. Before he cast off the Harbourmaster reminded him of the service.
'If you get lost, we can come and find you anywhere on the globe.’
His last words to the Harbourmaster on that historic day affirmed his belief in a flat world.
‘The damn thing can follow me around the edge,’ he said and cast off. He reported his progress regularly but mostly his reports went unnoticed.
Niggled by his embarrassing interview with Willy Wilson the young BBC reporter gave up his post in favour of a degree in astronomy and physics. On the first day of April the following year Willy Wilson transmitted his last message. It read: “Whoops, I’m just going over the edge…”
A search for Mad Willy Wilson and the Marco Polo proved fruitless. Both Willy and his yacht were gone assumed sunk in the area of the Caribbean known as the Bermuda Triangle. Yet this is not the end of the story.
In true biblical fashion it came to pass many years after Willy Wilson’s abortive voyage a large Asteroid was plotted on a near collision course with the Earth. After much panic, bloody minded bickering and procrastination a solution was reached. The thing was to be shifted with a nuclear warhead or two.
The name Marco Polo II was chosen for the asteroid by an ex-BBC journalist who had found working with Britain’s space projects more interesting than reporting on silly buggers with mad ideas.
The world’s media watched the missiles explode against the asteroid, enjoyed the display of slow motion material erupt from the target and cheered when the Marco Polo II’s course shifted as planned.
The explosion exposed a large cleft in which lay a structure that looked uncannily familiar to the ex-BBC reporter. What they found when the high definition cameras zoomed in to the object took the world completely by surprise. For all to see, inscribed in a flat surface were the words Marco Polo.
As the ex-BBC journalist remarked.
‘Life is so unfair.’
