Tag Archives: aliens

1729. Unwanted guests

My name is Farmer McGregor. Some of you might know me from my appearance in Beatrix Potter’s The Tale of Peter Rabbit. I want to tell you of something rather strange that happened to me a few weeks back.

I’ve had a terrible time with rabbits in my garden. Contrary to popular belief, rabbits don’t like lettuce very much. They go first for most other things in my garden. They even dig up some root vegetables to nibble on. So I was sitting outside my garden shed with a loaded gun waiting for a rabbit to make an imprudent appearance.

Suddenly a man appeared. He said “Excuse me” and then introduced himself as Jack Smith. I could tell he was in disguise. His voice sounded like a computer. I could see through an open shirt button that it didn’t look like human skin, and when I noticed his hands I could tell they were some sort of artificial material.

“Excuse me,” he said again. “I wondered if I might get a collection of seeds from your lovely garden.”

“I can tell you are an alien from another planet,” I said. (I always call a spade a spade). “You are in disguise. What do you want the seeds for?”

“Yes, you are correct,” intoned the man. “I am from an exoplanet and wish to collect some earth seeds.”

“You want to take over our planet,” I said. With that I raised my rabbit gun and shot him dead. Bang! The man was a crumpled pile at my feet. I had saved Planet Earth.

When I went to investigate the body there was nothing there. There was simply a pile of clothes with nothing inside.

The next morning when I went out to my garden there was not a seed head in sight. The garden was stripped. Since then everything has shrivelled up and died. I had done my best, but our human species is gravely threatened by this war-hungry class of vicious aliens.

1709. Molly, the last of her kind

It was a sad day when the animal known as Molly died in the zoo. She was the last known specimen of her kind. For years thousands of visitors would line up to view “MOLLY, THE LAST OF HER KIND.” No one was exactly sure what evolutionary line she belonged to, although scientists had categorized her all over the show. They definitely knew her to be some sort of mammal.

The zoo had hoped to start a breeding program. Fairly early on there were two females and two males, but the males and females seemed to show little interest in one another. Then three of them died of some unknown and sudden cause, and that left Molly on her own for what must have been a good thirty years.

And now she’s gone. Forever.

When the Spargundians invaded planet Earth and ruthlessly slaughtered the billions of what seemed to be an intelligent species, they took home only the four samples of the species. The proposed breeding program at the Spargundian Zoological Gardens didn’t pay off. The leader of the Spargundians has since decreed that when further planetary invasions take place, they must bring home a minimum of twelve intelligent specimens for a breeding program.

In the meantime, Molly is in the hands of a taxidermist getting stuffed.

1596. Astral arm waving

The Diddly-Squat Auralians were the inhabitants of a distant exoplanet thousands of light years away from Planet Earth. Diddly-Squat Auralians was the term used by Earthlings to describe the aliens, as no one had a clue what the Diddlies called themselves. There was reason for this.

Not only did the aliens have seven tentacles rather like a septopus, but they had no perception of sound. Earthlings had tried at some stage to communicate with them, but without sound it was well-nigh impossible. Nature had not evolved them with ears, or the equivalent. Sound to them was a little like Dark Matter was to Earthlings: the existence of sound was deduced but never experienced.

The Diddly-Squat Auralians had a complex system of communication involving the waving of all seven tentacles, so they were equally bemused by Earthlings as Earthlings were of them. In fact, Professor Mathilde Hussey of a university somewhere in Colorado had worked out the meaning of the Diddlies’ tentacle waving, but the Professor was regarded as a crank and lost her tenure not long after she published a Diddly Dictionary. In the dictionary, the eccentric professor claimed that the Diddlies had been unable to decipher the Earthlings’ hand and arm movements. They concluded that the Earthlings were rather backward and suffered from an extremely limited vocabulary. In fact the Diddlies had concluded that the nose and other protruding anatomical features of Earthings were undeveloped tentacles so rudimentary in their formation as to render them useless for communication.

On the other hand, the Earthlings had little inkling as to the highly developed intelligence of these Septopuses. Not only did the Earthlings regard them as inferior because of aural unawareness, but, despite earlier suppositions, they bore no resemblance at all to calamari when used for gastronomic purposes.

And so it was that this mutual distain of the Earthlings and the Diddly-Squat Auralians led to an astronomically lengthy period of peace. If they had been able to communicate, imagine the wars that would have ensued. And to think! The Diddlies would have been able to pull seven triggers at once.

1542. Things are not what they seem

From the outside it looked just like an ordinary egg. It had been laid by an ordinary chicken in an ordinary farmyard. The mother hen (apparently) was an ordinary Rhode Island Red. The father (apparently) was a rather handsome silver-laced Wyandotte.

Twelve year old Gilbert knew his breeds of chickens. He’d looked after the chickens for his mother and father almost since he was a toddler. These days he kept just the right balance between it being a hobby and it supplying the house with not too many and not too few eggs. Gilbert liked to have different breeds of chickens, and he’d cross one breed with another to see what sort of combination emerged from the egg. But… such an interesting genetic mix-up was exactly what the aliens were looking for. They had been watching the farmhouse for a month or so. They knew the way young Gilbert managed his chickens.

One night, when the next day they knew Gilbert was going to put a clutch of eggs under a broody hen, the aliens injected one of the eggs with very specific genetic material. This would change the history of the world. In fact, this would end the history of the world.

Before school the next morning, Gilbert took the eggs he had been saving that were laid by the Rhode Island Red hen in liaison with the silver-laced Wyandotte rooster. He selected twelve eggs. Of the fourteen eggs that Gilbert had collected only two remained. Fourteen eggs were too many for the broody hen to keep warm. Twelve was just right. Of the two unchosen eggs, one contained the alien genetic material. The watching aliens were distraught.

Then Gilbert did something he always did: at the last minute he swapped the eggs. “This,” he thought, as he replaced one of the dozen eggs with the rejected alien egg, “will produce a different chicken from the one I first selected!”

Gilbert always did that. It was if he was playing God. Except, in this case he was.

1489. Sad but true

The Seilfnogard are a group of creatures that we on earth call “aliens”. They live on a planet roughly one million light years away from Planet Earth. It’s not improbable that they are the most intelligent creatures in the cosmos. Of course, there are probably creatures more intelligent, but how does one judge intelligence when a one-hour old Seilfnogard thinks like Isaac Newton on a good day?

Coming from a life source and a series of genetic mutations completely unrelated to anything on Planet Earth, they don’t resemble anything we might know. I suppose the nearest thing we have to them are dragonflies. You see, the Seilfnogard live for only about a year, but most of that time is spent in the nymph stage. First there’s an egg, then the nymph, and finally the adult Seilfnogard emerges and lasts only a day or two. Those couple of days are spent delving as quickly as possible into the mysteries of the universe. Then death comes knocking in twenty-four to forty-eight hours.

But goodness me! What the Seilfnogard have achieved! The civilization they have built! The body of knowledge! Although they can fly (they have a double pair of wings not unlike dragonflies) they are terrible at space travel. Many years ago a group of fearless Seilfnogard set out for Planet Earth in a spacecraft that travelled almost at the speed of light. One of their major concerns in this lengthy travel was to propagate. Over the time of the journey to Planet Earth a million-plus generations came and went. Upon arrival they had only two days to record first-hand what they observed. However, panic took over, and the two days were spent hurriedly fornicating and laying eggs in order to begin a trail of generations for the return home.

A million generations later the Seilfnogard arrived back on their planet. No two-million old records had survived as to who they were and to where they’d gone. The travellers themselves didn’t have a clue as to what their mission had been; where they’d been and why.

The stay-at-home Seilfnogard had so evolved over the intervening epochs that inferior genes were undesirable. For example, the stay-at-home Seilfnogard, with selective breeding and genetic engineering, were now able to survive in the adult stage for up to five days. That is why the intrepid explorers were immediately put to death as aberrations.

Sad but true.

1458. Squandavia

From an alien handbook:

One of the more bizarre planets in the cosmos is known as Squandavia, although it is believed that some of the early interplanetary adventurers referred to it as Planet Earth.

Top of the food chain are what are known as elephants. They are the biggest land creatures. In the sea it is creatures called whales.

The most interesting, and most bizarre feature of the planet are the millions and millions of relatively unhairy four-limbed creatures that walk around on two legs. They are everywhere. Apparently the elephants and whales have them pretty well trained for they seem to spend all their time working. They make strange noises most of the time. They don’t graze slowly all day on their food as we do, but they seem to stuff food into their mouths at set times three or four times a day.

Some of their other habits are even more bizarre but we leave that to the traveller to be shocked by discovery.

It is not recommended when visiting Squandavia that you make yourself visible. These little relatively unhairy four-limbed animals are riddled with animosity. It is inconceivable to us that the elephants and whales haven’t got rid of at least a few of them.

If we ever take over this planet, and it seems not unlikely, the extermination of these relatively unhairy four-limbed creatures will be a priority.

1427. Astral music

One of the most striking features of the Aliens that arrived on Earth was their humility. They had gone to the trouble of learning our language (well, Spanish and Cantonese at least). They brought gifts of books of literature and science and CDs of music. They were intelligent, creative, and highly courteous. In short, they were wonderful ambassadors for their planet.

Of course, in the main, the Earthlings were not very impressed with them. The Alien literature wasn’t as good as Earth’s. Where was their Shakespeare? Who were their great scientists, such as Newton and Einstein? And as for their music… Oh goodness me! What incomprehensible nonsense!

What did the aliens think of Bach and Mozart and Beethoven? Wasn’t Earth’s music more heavenly? More expressive? Such a rich heritage!

The Aliens explained that their music was different for all sorts of reasons, but so as not to be arrogant, they were leaving three of their more notable pianists behind so they could study Earth’s classical music in greater depth. So stay behind on Earth they did.

The first thing the Earthlings did was to chop off nineteen of each Alien’s fingers. If you are going to play Beethoven properly you can’t do it with twenty-nine fingers.