After I watched the videos of a meteor streaking over the Ural Mountains a couple of weeks ago, I snarkily tweeted: “Meteor explodes over Russia. Asteroid misses Earth by 15 minutes. All part of the prophecy foretold by noted philosopher & sage Jerry Bruckheimer.”

In the 1998 film “Armageddon,” Bruckheimer tried to show us how the world might respond to incoming planetary annihilation. Completing the movie industry’s mass-extinction-event double feature was “Deep Impact,” released just weeks earlier, both movies determined to give us a taste of how humanity might react if today was the last day of the rest of our lives.

How did we do? All I remember is badly written and poorly acted panic, violence and hoarding mixed with brilliant ingenuity, collaborative spunk and a “this-is-bigger-than-all-our-silly-problems” determination.

The recent (and actual) double feature of meteor and asteroid was a stark reminder that we humans are not driving our cosmic bus. We’re just passengers. We can’t stop at intersections and look both ways. We fly blindly along, daily risking the mathematical likelihood of one final, fiery collision. Any eon now.

Cosmic events like these make it a little easier to see the big picture. If there’s an Intra-Galactic Evening News out there somewhere, our demise would probably amount to nothing more than a brief mention of a “planetary fender-bender.”

Back here on Earth, though, what would we actually see unfurl in the face of guaranteed impending destruction? Would we put aside our differences and come together as a species? Would Indians and Pakistanis gather on a mountaintop in Kashmir to hold hands for a few choruses of “I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing?” Would our petty individual differences melt away in a mega-tsunami of forgiveness and reconciliation?

Or would our ids break loose in a panic-stricken Loot-A-Palooza, featuring murder, mayhem and a last-gasp planet-wide Shagfest?

Amid the chaos, could our leaders and scientists actually work together to craft a Hollywood-esque international expedition (led by Bruce Willis, of course) to attempt to destroy the incoming Doomsday Rock — or at least nudge it out of our path?

If that mission proves successful (all the more likely if the heroic crew walks abreast in slow motion toward their waiting craft), what would we do with our cosmic mulligan? Would we treat it as a life-altering near-death experience, deciding once and for all to combine pragmatism with heart to avoid war and personal conflict? Would we stop trying to beat the asteroid to the punch by destroying the planet ourselves with toxic waste? Would we eat less and exercise more?

Or would the world simply exhale a global sigh of relief and mindlessly return to our regular programming, already in progress?

I prefer to imagine civilization as benefitting from a brush with extinction. If we failed to seize the opportunity such a second chance would afford us, we’d only confirm the notion that humanity is basically a form of intelligent Scotch Broom, an invasive species that can’t help but consume everything in its path.

We got off easy last week with a couple of once-in-a-millennia taps on the shoulder, gentle reminders (at least by cosmic standards) that no matter how much time we spend sweating the small stuff, there’s plenty of big stuff out there ready to really mess up our weekend.

— Jeff Hoyt is a writer and voice actor who lives on Vashon and who is grateful for his wife Cindy Hoyt’s editing skills.