Stephen Hawking is afraid...

...that Earth "might end up like Venus, at 250 degrees centigrade and raining sulfuric acid."

Another scientist, one Yuri Fialko of the Scripps Institution of Oceanography at La Jolla, California, is claiming a massive ("cataclysmic") earthquake is overdue in the general area where I live.

Compared to such catastrophic scenarios -- both far more believable than the warnings of global meltdown that Al Gore is always on about in his doom-laden, radio-evangelist's voice -- the forces keeeping me pinned to the mat these days seem downright trivial.

And they are. Except to me, of course.

I mean, if Hawking's dire warning comes true, it won't matter what we do, will it? I've had a whiff or two of sulfuric acid in my time, and I can tell you breathing a steady diet of it would be downright uncomfortable. And 250 degrees centigrade is well beyond the "it's not the heat, it's the humidity" level of complaint.

Earthquakes? Been there, done that. Assuming no direct hit from falling palm trees and no fissure opening beneath my feet to swallow me whole, I can get through 'em.

In fact, when faced with major stuff, I can hold it all together pretty well.

It's the day-to-day problems, one piled atop the next, that have gutted me.

If you conclude that today was no less frustrating than previous days have been, you're right. "SSDD," as they say, when they're not saying "same-old, same-old."

Don't get me wrong. I tried. Tried to get a lot of things on the right track, or even on the way to getting on the right track, but so far no dice.

And I'll try again tomorrow, both on the items that didn't work today and perhaps a few more, if time -- and my patience -- permit.

But I would like to see a little forward progress come from all of it.

Otherwise, bring on the oven-level temps and sulphuric-acid clouds, or the Big Shaker....

If I'm going to end up on the canvas, I'd much rather be KO'd by a heavyweight.