2545. Earthlings’ sensory perceptions

Below is a translation of an extract of a speech that Qhak’eot gave to the Breakfast Club on his home planet of Stex:

I can say nothing bad about Earthlings. They were kindness to a fault. Their hospitality was nothing but the best. I was treated like royalty.

Since I am by profession an artist – burning coloured acids into a metal board – I was taken from one famous Earth gallery to another. I went – among many others – to the David Zwirner Gallery of Art in New York, to a Vincent van Gogh exhibition in Amsterdam, to a John Constable exhibition in London, and to various Vatican galleries in Rome.

Naturally I didn’t let our Planet Stex down. I said all the right things, and ooh-ed and ah-ed in all the right places. The thing that amazed me the most – although I didn’t convey a thing on the matter – was how irrationally proud Earthlings are of their infantile ventures into the Arts.

Most of the paintings I saw were a complete mess. What the Earthlings didn’t seem to realize was that we see a far greater range of colour than they do. We have eyesight that not only perceives the familiar rainbow of colours but also parts of the ultraviolet (UV) spectrum that are invisible to Earthling eyes. Rather like birds on Earth. As well as that our eyes are like a bumble bee’s; multifaceted. And also, as you know, we can turn colours off and on which Earthlings are incapable of.

The Sistine Chapel in Rome was particularly disgusting with its vulgar colours of overweight angels flopping around some sort of ultraviolet muddled biosphere. I probably wouldn’t recommend a visit there. In fact I would recommend by-passing Planet Earth altogether. Their music is also simplistic. They have such a limited range of sound that I’d rather listen all day to a machine. I have no comprehension as to why Earthlings think their Arts are superior when they have such poor and limited sensory perceptions in all areas.

2531. Phailsod throws a birthday party

With Phailsod’s birthday coming up he thought he would commemorate it by inviting a few fellow Thraczoits around for a feast. Thraczoits don’t live as many years as Earthlings. Thirty would be around about the average life expectancy. However, don’t get me wrong; a Thraczoit year is equivalent to six Earth years, so in fact the Thraczoits live a lot long than Earthlings but have fewer birthdays.

The rarity of a birthday occurrence bothered Phailsod more than a little because he had watched Earthlings celebrate birthdays and they got a lot more birthday presents than on his planet. However, with his long awaited birthday coming up he invited lots and lots of fellow citizens and most were wealthy enough to bring along fabulous gifts.

Phailsod spared nothing. This would be the most memorable birthday party anyone had attended. He invited over two hundred Traczoits and they all came.

All agreed: the superiority of soil for their roots and the quality of light for their photosynthesis were truly amazing. It certainly was a birthday feast to remember.

2496. Earth’s cosmological contribution

Good Smakin Darit Ingtincton Comrades.

Thank you for inviting my crew and me this Smakin Darit Ingtincton to speak to you. As you know we have just finished a 472-year cruise of liveable planets within our own galaxy. Of course we didn’t visit them all, but we did manage to visit over 400 places during the course of the trip.

Being almost a billion years more advanced than many of them there was little we could learn from most. On Planet Stackton we learnt a solution to the problem we’ve always had here of debris collecting on our stella-panels. Of course the Stacktonians like us are a long-evolving, highly developed planet, so we were not surprised to find something we didn’t know.

Perhaps the most stunning discovery was on Planet Earth. They are a very young planet where intelligent activity has been evolving to a relatively low degree over a mere several million years. There we found they had a contraption that absolutely stunned us. It’s such a simple concept and so obvious. I guess we were more amazed at our own lack of invention in the matter rather than in the creative Earthling invention itself.

We brought several examples with us in order to show the variety of design that is possible, and we shall be passing them on to our scientific experts so they can use these artefacts as a sort of blue print.

What are they, you might ask? Naturally we don’t have names for them as yet, so we refer to them in backward Earth terms. They call them salt and pepper shakers.

2453. Interplanetary warfare

Once cosmic aliens had been discovered it didn’t take long for the forty million or so known forms of intelligent life to work out that basically intelligent life was all the same no matter where they stemmed from in the universe. They were all violent and mean. They were greedy. They were corrupt. They were rotten to the core.

One of the good things about all this however was that weapons of war would not work if they were fired via the instowarpicator. This was a device of extraordinary inventiveness that enabled alien species (I call them “species” but really we need to invent a new word for these divisions)… the instowarpicator enabled each planetary “intelligentis” to travel almost instantaneously from one planet to another.

As I say, lethal weapons of war were neutralized if they travelled down the instowarpicator. Lethal weapons of mass destruction had to travel via the conventional way, that is, through space at the speed of light.

It is believed that almost every planet (if not all) had at some stage fired a destructive weapon at an enemy planet somewhere sometime. The good thing was that the weapons would take thousands (in some cases millions) of light years to reach their targets. This made the inhabitants of every planet blasé about interplanetary co-existence. Each had thousands of years to discover and make an antidote to destructive forces.

So all in all, the cosmos was safe. It’s just that every race of planetary intelligentis hated each other’s guts.

2446. Interplanetary visitation

Now that interplanetary visitation is commonplace there are some people who won’t accept reality. Gone are the days when we didn’t know whether or not life existed on other planets – let alone intelligent life.

What gets me down are the tourists. There are hundreds of known planets seething with life, but these aliens from just the one planet seem to wander aimlessly around the cosmos like maggots on a hunk of dead rotten meat. And they take photographs of everything. You would think by now they would have upgraded their technology.

My home has a spectacular view of a waterfall. It’s why I paid such an extravagant price for the house; it was the view. Now it seems like you can’t see the waterfall for the tourists. Also, I estimate there must be three or four knocks on my door every day. It is tourists asking if I am willing to sell.  These tourists from just the one planet seem motivated by greed. They are buying up a good portion of the real estate around here and they’re only living in it for about a month of the year.

Other planets are finding the same problems. There’s a move afoot to get the Interplanetary Confederation to ban tourists from Earth altogether.

2164. Interplanetary wisdom

There is a phrase that the natives use on the Planet Dismusious that goes: Éðß¿¿ ƣŶƛź ḝ ⅌ℱ℥ӝҤӃ. Literally translated it says: He who likes not turnips should not fish.

Of course the word used is not “turnips” as they don’t have turnips on Dismusious. Nor for that matter do they have fish. Nor do the Dismusiousians have any word to denote negation such “non” and “not”. In fact to a non-Dismusiousian the phrase is quite meaningless. However, with a little help from an erudite bunch of alter-aliens a semblance of meaning can be deciphered.

Strictly speaking it is a warning – when conjurnicating don’t wedleidong else you could harm the qiesllon. Mrs. Masie Brown of Wisconsin said she had never heard anything so stupid. One has nothing to do with the other and both convey no meaning whatsoever.

Professor Lola Fitzsimons was able to point out a few home truths to Mrs. Maisie Brown.

“You,” said Professor Lola, “are a shameless bag of cow manure. You judge everything by earth’s standards. But there are other ways of skinning a cat elsewhere in the universe. You suffer from a bad case of ethnocentricity. When it comes to the way inhabitants on other planets do and say things, your racism comes to the fore. You are caught is the all-devouring whirlpool of Earthling superiority.”

“All I can say in response to that,” said Mrs. Masie Brown, “is Éðß¿¿ ƣŶƛź ḝ ⅌ℱ℥ӝҤӃ. So put that in your pipe and ԋԀ ðՆԿŶƛỼ it.”

2042. A secretary’s report

I never like it much when a committee I belong to elects me as its secretary for a meeting. It has happened quite a few times throughout my short life. It was an initial thrill to be chosen to represent Planet Earth at a meeting of COPP (Coalition of Populated Planets). There were forty-three other planets represented. These forty-three members had been meeting for years. This was the first time Earth had been invited to the discussion. It was exciting! but then they went and elected me as secretary. I presume they did so to shut me up. I guess I should be pleased, but a chore is a chore.

The subject of the meeting was “Whether to invite Planet Earth to become a permanent member of the Coalition of Populated Planets.” I should make it clear from the start that I had recused myself, even though I didn’t have the right to vote anyway. Oicurmt from Planet Cuzique suggested that my very act of recusal when it wasn’t even applicable was reason enough to bar Earth from joining. “We don’t want stupidity to enter into COPP. Nonsense! Complete balderdash! Utter rubbish! Silliness has reached new heights! It’s bonkers! Nincompoopery at the apex of ridiculousness!”

Pkjzqqht from Planet Bvdcjllp (these Bvdcjllpians always seem to have unpronounceable names) thought that leaders on Planet Earth were two-faced. “They haven’t yet proved that what they say and what they do is the same thing.” “Yes!” agreed Oicurmt from Planet Cuzique. “It’s stark raving stupidity! Madness! I’ve never heard of anything so loony in all my life!”

Yulululu of Planet Kangaflufu said that Planet Earth’s preference for war over negotiation was not something they would want to influence the deliberations of COPP. “They’re constantly at each other’s gardła (“gardła” is Kangaflufuvian for “throats”). “Yes!” agreed Oicurmt from Planet Cuzique. “It’s so very…”

This discussion went on and on. It is unnecessary to report on all forty-three negative comments from all forty-three member planets. Suffice to say that the result of the final vote was 43-1. You see, even though I had recused myself I voted anyway. I couldn’t believe the negativity of all these inferior planets.

The bit I didn’t like was having to return to Planet Earth and announce that our inclusion into COPP had been rejected. Instead (since I was the secretary) I told everyone that “it was a very easy call. The other planets love us and feel that they could learn so much by assimilating something of Earth’s over-powering magnanimity. The final vote was unanimous.”

As a footnote, it should be mentioned that the leaders of Earth were enraptured. We are certainly more powerful than other planets in terms of the military, and since our peaceful request has been accepted we shall now more easily influence the decisions of COPP by resorting to threats and violence.

2041. An incredible gift

(The opening sentence for this story was suggested by Craig, a great supporter of this blog.)

It was an incredible gift, to be sure, but there was the minor matter of how to safely store something so unquestionably dangerous!

For years Planet Earth had been Planet Tut-Tut’s most dangerous enemy. The Tut-Titians could have blown Earth to smithereens in seconds but they had always exercised restraint. Planet Earth had insulted them and ridiculed them and laughed at their incapacity to imagine things. A Tut-Titian could not imagine his or her own mother. They had no picture. Nature had evolved them totally bereft of imagination. That’s not imagination in the creative sense, but imagination as being able to picture physical things in the mind.

The Tut-Titians had grown tired of Earth’s scorn. To appease Earthlings they presented Earth with a gift. It was a weapon. Drop it on Tut-Tut and it would blow Tut-Tut to bits. “Now we are equal,” said the Tut-Titians.  “You have the power to destroy us as we for years have had the power to destroy you. You must learn to safely store something so dangerous with restraint. We look forward to working with you in peace and harmony.”

“Oh goody,” said Planet Earth’s President, and pressed the button.

1949. A guilt trip

The arrival of certain story numbers on this blog sometimes contains an unsuspecting significance. In this case it is Story 1949. 1949 was the year I was born. The number surely demands something special?

Let me reveal something that maybe you never suspected.

Some mad people (they are mad people because I happen to know that things like that simply don’t happen) believe that at some stage they were abducted by aliens and experimented upon either in the alien space craft or taken to the home planet to be examined. What nonsense! I should know, because I am an alien implant.

I volunteered on my home planet to undergo a seventy-seven year or so stay on Planet Earth to better ascertain whether or not the planet would be worth taking over. Thus was I implanted in 1949 (Earth date) and born into what appeared to be normalcy.

Twenty years had not passed when I received a message that warfare on my home planet had erupted and, to make a long story short, my planet and all its inhabitants had been destroyed. This was not only sad but it created a problem for me because I no longer had reason to report back about Planet Earth. Nor do I know what I should do once the seventy-seven years or so are up. I can’t go on living here getting older and older without transmogrifying into something that Earthlings might consider strange.

So that’s where I’m at, at the moment. I’ll gladly take suggestions, but, PLEASE, no dingbats making ridiculous claims about “I too am an alien”. I know a good alien when I see one, and there are many charlatans on Planet Earth. There are perhaps more charlatans here than on any other inhabited planet in the universe.

Incidentally I know of only one other space alien currently on Planet Earth. She lives “overseas” and I have nothing to do with her. She’s from another planet from me altogether. Why would we need to work together? Can a horse and a cow join together to pull the same cart? (That is a saying once used on my home planet). Apparently she’s here to study cloud formation for a doctoral thesis. They’re so backward where she comes from.

There you have it! The number 1949 has certainly made me face the music. I’m actually feeling quite guilty that I haven’t told you about all this before.

1762. Alien infiltration

No one knew exactly where they came from. Earth visits by exoplanet aliens were becoming so common that the whole thing was humdrum. There were millions of different types of aliens visiting from all over the cosmos; so many that Earth decided to set up some sort of registration office. Each “species” of alien could await their turn. After all, they were basically “coming just for a look”. Like Earthling tourists in the old days, nothing was added to the Grand Canyon simply by having lots of inquisitive tourists. It would be different if an alien species came to share its technology with Earth.

Most exoplanet species didn’t mind the registration and visiting timetable schedule. A few exoplanet species however had evolved as deviants. Like the Earthling Communist Chinese of a previous era they had stolen the technology (in this case from other planets) – which was how they had the wherewithal to travel to Earth. Basically, when it came to being scientifically practical, they were relatively thick.

An example would be when they tried to bypass the registration setup. Some dumb exoplanet genius had devised a plan to infiltrate Earth by having a whole army pose as Earthling mailboxes. They were to stand motionless at every house gate and observe. (It must be added here for those who scoff, that these particular aliens were masters of transmogrification). They had missioned to Earth a team to capture the template of the basic mailbox. Moulds were made of the prototype. Thousands of mailboxes were manufactured. Each mailbox was imbued with the being of an exo-alien. The possessed mail boxes were placed at every earthling’s gate, replacing the mailboxes that were there.

There stood the aliens, motionless and observant; “spying” would be a better word. That was until Mrs Bridie McDonald of Chattanooga went out to check her mail. She was the first in the world that day to do so. She discovered that her mailbox no longer had any moving parts. They had ended up doing what the Japanese had done in an earlier Earth era: the Japanese had made trumpets with a mould so that there were no moving valves.

Every infiltrating mailbox was thrown onto a non-carbon-producing bonfire, and the dumb invasive exoplanet species were banned permanently from Earth. Way to go, Earthlings! Although, as an addendum, Mrs Bridie McDonald of Chattanooga did in later years admit to having found her mailbox particularly attractive – which might well explain why later that year her son was born with no moving parts.