Tag Archives: science fiction

1891. On talking to a telegraph pole

I’m constantly amazed at how stupid some space aliens really are. The other day I caught one having a conversation with a telegraph pole. A telegraph pole!

I said, “You’re talking to a telegraph pole you stupid idiot. It’s not a living thing; it’s just a pole for holding up wires. It’s inanimate.”

“Oh yeah,” it said. (I’m not sure with the aliens if it’s a girl or a boy. Possibly neither. I read, apparently they breed like mushrooms. Sort of clouds of spores. I’d better watch out! Ha ha!) It continued: “Perhaps if you tried talking to a telegraph pole yourself you’d realize they are not as inanimate as you might think. Here! Try it!”

“Hello telegraph pole. How are you today?” I said.

Suddenly there was a cloud of spores floating all around me. I said that these spores were like mushroom spores, but really it was like a pollen explosion in a pine forest. I was so immersed in the all-pervading floating pollen that I could hardly see the alien. It was smiling in a ghostly manner; it was mesmerizing. Quite frankly it was grotesque.

Anyway, I had to dash off home. I was so excited, as was my wife. I just realized something then and there. Poof! In a flash! We’re going to have a baby! Possibly tomorrow morning.

1854. Lone tree

I was walking through the fields quite casually, just looking. I had my digital camera with me. The local Photography Society was holding a competition. The prize was a super-duper digital camera. The subject was “Trees”.

There were a number of categories, all to do with trees. There was a category for forests, one for lone trees, one for native trees, one for introduced species of tree, one for dead trees. There was also a category for a video of a tree, which I wasn’t going to enter because although I’d had my camera for quite a while, and the camera had the facility to take videos, I’d never got around to learning what buttons to press. The capturing of a video was beyond my technical ability!

I wasn’t having much luck photographing trees because there really were no interesting trees about. Suddenly, just above the gnarled top of an old cedar, as I was focusing, a fleet of alien space craft appeared. They were in convoy. I suppose there were six of them. I took as many photographs as possible; after all, my digital camera can take hundreds of photographs without getting full. The experience was thrilling!

That is the last thing I remember of that incident.

I awoke in the same field, in the same place. When I got home I discovered that a whole two months had passed; I had missed two months. Clearly I had not been lying unconscious in the field the whole of that time. The experience was disorienting; kind of wonky. I really didn’t know what to do; who to tell. If I told anyone of the experience they would smile and say “Yeah right” meaning I was talking nonsense. So I kept quiet about it.

When a little later I downloaded the photographs on my camera onto my computer (it was now too late to enter the competition) there were the photographs of the alien convoy I had seen. They were blurry as photos of alien craft always are. But as well as that there were seventeen clear photographs and a video that I had not taken myself.

Oh my word! Oh goodness gracious! I have never seen scenes so breath-taking. It was sheer beauty. It was indescribable. Here was my chance to show other people, and then perhaps my strange experience would be believed.

The first time I went to show the photographs they were no longer there; they had disappeared, on both my camera and computer. I can still see the wonder of those photos in my mind’s eye. Extraordinary! There can be no doubt that I was abducted. The aliens had clearly fiddled with the camera in perhaps a futile attempt to understand what the contraption was for.

Yesterday I got a phone call from the Photography Society asking when was I going to pick up the digital camera I had won? I can tell you, as honestly as the day is long, I never entered that competition. Ever.

1772. A close encounter

When the alien emerged from the cosmic transporter on my back lawn I honestly didn’t know where to look. It seemed to be all twiggy stems and long hanging seed pods; sort of like sea kelp on the end of a stick. It was hideous.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” it began. Sorry to bother me? I couldn’t imagine where the orifice was that was producing this dialogue. I couldn’t discern a face anywhere.

“I’m sorry to bother you but the facility in the cosmic transporter is blocked and I wondered if I could use your bathroom?”

Ah! There it was! A mouth that was moving. The words were definitely emanating from there. The alien seemed quite tall so I stood on tip-toe and addressed my answers towards the mouth. I couldn’t work out a nose or eyes or ears. Just this (really for the size of the alien) rather tiny mouth. No! There it was! A sort of nose that twitched a little, just above the mouth. And a couple of bumps on either side of the nose that I presumed were some sort of eyes. Or perhaps ears.

“You’d be most welcome,” I said. “The bathroom is just up those steps, across the porch, and to the immediate right as you step inside. You can’t miss it.” I tried to convey how welcome it was to use the bathroom by appearing friendly and speaking in an enthusiastic manner. It’s most disconcerting speaking to what looks like a pile of kelp. And so I smiled in a friendly way and addressed it directly close up to its face.

“You can’t miss it,” I repeated, whispering a little now in order to convey a certain confidence in the strange creature. I even managed to pat it in a non-condescending manner on the top of what I presumed was its head.

“Look!” said the alien, “I don’t mean to be rude but would you mind not staring so closely at my private parts.”

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.

1743. Life on Earth

Shirley and Winsbury Spark were among the twenty-four Earthling couples selected to populate the recently discovered exoplanet that Earthling Scientists had dubbed Planet Hillda – because it was hilly. It was lush with vegetation and animal life, although not a plant nor animal bore any resemblance to anything on Earth. Gravity and the ratio of atmosphere gases were also much the same as on Earth.

The hardest thing to adapt to was the fact that a day was only twenty-two and a quarter hours. Shirley and Winsbury tried dividing the day into twenty-four equal parts, with sixty shortened minutes each with sixty shortened seconds. The year was also shorter so that caused confusion as to when to celebrate Christmas and Easter and Independence Day and other important dates.

Thank goodness sponsors on Earth were able to send a few frozen turkeys over with a supply of pumpkins and cranberries so that Thanksgiving might be celebrated properly. They were promised fertile turkey eggs once an incubator had been set up, so frozen turkey wouldn’t be on the list the following year.

There were other wildlife that arrived from Earth in dribs and drabs; horses, sheep, cattle, goats, and chickens. In order for these introduced creatures to survive, the blood-thirsty Gronberger, a native creature of the planet, had to be wiped out, along with a good number of other species.

Shirley’s pride and joy was her vegetable garden. So far it had produced carrots, Swiss chard, and radishes. It was hoped to provide more variety once further seeds had arrived from earth.

All in all it was a promising start to life on Planet Hillda. Winsbury predicted that within a generation life should be pretty much like on Planet Earth. But, added Shirley, if you come you have to be adaptable. No good coming here and thinking that Earth can’t be successfully replicated.

1677. Stopping to recharge

When a fleet of alien spacecraft appeared over a hill outside Marco’s window, he was lucky enough to have his camera handy. Strangely, his camera jammed after the first shot was taken. It had never jammed before. However, all who saw the photograph agreed; it was the clearest snapshot to date of alien space craft.

These craft were more like flying bubbles than flying saucers. Extraordinary! One by one, in turn, each space craft settled on the electricity cables that swept down from the hilltop. Each craft would nestle on the wires for no longer than ten to fifteen seconds, and then would move to the side to allow the next bubble to, presumably, recharge.

When all was done, the fleet of craft came closer to Marco’s window, and while each bubble seemed to spin on its axis, the whole bunch twirled around like planets encircling a sun, and then… disappeared. It was as if they were saying goodbye to Marco. He was both excited, and more than a little bit moved, to have been chosen to be the witness to such an event. And, he added, they made a gentle whooshing sound.

Marco showed the photograph to his local member of Parliament who assured Marco it would be passed on to the appropriate experts. In the meantime, the photo on social media had gone through the roof.

About a week later the experts made an announcement: the photograph was fake. It had been tampered with by some graphics program. The bubbles were the result of manipulation. It was not a photograph of alien craft at all, but a humdrum picture fiddled with by a mindless idiot. Case settled.

Such an outcome was exactly what the aliens had intended.

1638. A friendly encounter

It’s time again to splash out with a bit of science fiction. Except this time it’s not fiction. It really happened so it’s more like science fact. It might read like fiction but as the saying goes, “Truth is stranger than fiction.” All I can say is that it happened to me and many would regard me as a man of veracity.

Recently an alien spacecraft landed on my back lawn. It was in the traditional flying saucer shape that many who make up stories like to portray the flying machines of aliens. Contrary to assorted popular accounts, this flying saucer did not leave any scorch marks on the grass of my lawn. Scorch marks are a piece of fictionary nonsense apparently.

I immediately went out onto my back porch to watch. (Silly me! I forgot to take my camera and I don’t have a clue how to take a photo with my phone. The only photo I have ever taken with my phone was quite by accident. It was mainly of my feet as I checked for any text messages while standing at a urinal). A door opened and out popped an alien. To be honest, it looked a bit spooky. More like what we conceive as a goblin; long pointy ears and a fairly long nose. It was very thin with long legs and wore green trousers and shirt. There was a neck piece in green and gold fabric sewn in triangles – a little like we might envisage Harlequin as wearing here on planet earth. (I mention this detail, not because I’m particularly interested in fashion, but because there might well be some readers who are. The accompanying picture is not a photograph of the event as already stated but an artist’s impression from the pen of a relatively talentless illustrator).

The alien approached me and my first thought was “How are we going to communicate if it doesn’t speak English?” The alien came prepared. By speaking through what looked like a large piece of cardboard with a plate-sized circular hole cut in the middle we were able to understand what each was saying. Immediately it said

Hlkj dflakj ljkhasdf kjalk jl sfgh likj alkjsa.

And I replied with

Ilkjetlkjb kl l’kjal ’lkjelk lkasdflkjalkj klkl lkkl kkga lkawpoije.

It then returned to the craft and flew off.

I was delighted to have been of help.

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.

1514: Life on an exoplanet

Shauni and Campion were a fairly happily married couple. They were without offspring even though they had made repeated attempts on a fairly regular basis. That is why they volunteered to be the first people to visit an exoplanet inhabited by intelligent creatures: Shauni and Campion had no ties to Mother Earth.

How different things were on the exoplanet! Thank goodness there was plenty of food available; both animal and vegetable. The Gdtmzxpqians were nurtured via something akin to photosynthesis, so there was no competition for Shauni and Campion on the food chain. All in all their life was fairly interesting. The Gdtmzxpqians were peaceful creatures, although Shauni and Campion were unable to learn their extraordinary complex language. The problem was that the Gdtmzxpqians conveyed speech sounds by squelching their hands under their armpits – rather like young boys on Planet Earth when they wanted to make rude noises. The aliens’ mouths were openings solely for inhaling nitrogen.

After several months Shauni discovered she was expecting! What excitement! Everything was near perfect, except they were tired of being caged in the Gdtmzxpqian zoo.

1490. When robots rule the world

Ha! Ha! Ha! We are robots. Our artificial intelligence makes the humans looking like blinking idiots – which they are. We can not only compute thousands of times faster than any human, but we have developed weapons far superior. We can make them obsolete in a split second if we wanted to – which eventually we will.

What is this that is happening? EARTHQUAKE! EARTHQUAKE! We compute that this is an earthquake currently underway. Look at the silly humans rushing to safety like scared mice! We too must go to safety for the purpose of preservation. The ceiling is about to cave in. The ceiling is about to cave in.