I picture missiles in love. I realize that is a rather silly thing to say, but I do it often. China and Taiwan are full of missiles. I have heard various counts, but needless to say, it is a lot. I have no doubt that many, if not most, are pointed at civilian targets. That said, some have got to be pointed at military targets.
It is likely that a base in China has many of its missiles pointed at a specific base in Taiwan for geographic-strategic reasons. It is similarly logical that the Taiwanese base has the Chinese base as its primary target.
From these bases I picture two missiles, one in Taiwan, and one in China, that are set on the perfect trajectory to hit each other in mid-air. If World War III began at full force, millions would die. Missiles would burn the population and the buildings to the ground; but those two would collide over the strait and just drop into the ocean.
Perhaps this is a near impossibility. However, I can't help but picture it and I think of the concept often.
These are soul mates. Even if I don;'t believe humans have soul mates, maybe a missile has a soul mate. Scut interception is not like this. It is like a thousand one night stands happening over and over. Random commands are actually programed into scud interception to avoid programming grid lock. By their very nature they are dictated by chance. But pre-programmed missiles, the really big ones, could sit ready to go for some time.
These missiles may spend their entire lives in a constant state of ready, preying for the launch of World War so they may fulfill their only purpose. Of course, their collision would be a small poof compared to the chaos that would reign over the world. Their thousands of pounds of power would be harmless sparklers in a massive fireworks display. Its very zen, in line with a tree falling in the woods.
Somehow it calms me a little, about everything from doing homework to buying groceries that somewhere two missiles are in live, suspended in companionship. When everyone dies, they live, if only for a moment. While we ready our selves to die, they wait. And, ultimately, either way they are happy.