Tag Archives: space

1963. Snap shot on Mars

(This is the second of seven days of Science Faction).

It wasn’t the first time that humans had landed and wandered around Mars. Each time – I believe it was seven – a new landing site had been selected to measure and collect and ascertain.

It was during the eighth Mars landing that Astronauts Eugenia and Estelle got the fright of their lives. They immediately beamed back photographs to Earth. There, in the sandy soil, were fresh footprints. In fact there were footprints of several creatures. The creatures were clearly quadrupeds and each foot had seventeen toes. Eugenia and Estelle followed the prints. When they turned a sudden rocky corner, there it was! Sitting on the sand was an octagonal space craft. No creatures were to be seen. The space craft was about the size of an average house.

The astronauts didn’t know whether they should approach or not. Was it dangerous? Surely the space aliens would have seen the Earthlings’ landing machine, and if they didn’t want to be seen they would have immediately taken off. Obviously, in this case, they wanted to make contact. Eugenia and Estelle slowly approached. It was naturally nerve-wracking.

There was still no sign of life. Suddenly Eugenia whispered. “Don’t look now but I think we’re been followed.” Their steps froze. They began to feel cold in their space suits. Estelle held up a small camera and pointed it behind her, to send the moment back to earth. No sooner had she held the camera up and pointed it behind her then it disintegrated in her hand.

A fuzzy image of shapes, out of focus and too dark to distinguish anything, was the last picture received on Earth. Extensive digital enhancement revealed what some thought looked like a vase of grey dead flowers and others imagined a scattered cloud formation on a stormy night. Astronauts Eugenia and Estelle were never heard of again. When yet another craft to Mars landed at the same site, the old craft was nowhere to be seen. It had been taken away.

1953. Those space aliens

Apparently, and I don’t believe a word of it, space aliens have taken over the planet. I’ve never seen one. I’ve never heard one. And now they claim (via the media) that we are to carry on in a normal manner and not even mention their presence.

If we as much as mention them something dire will happen. Yeah right – like we’re being watched. I don’t believe it for a

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.

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.

1882. Hovering space craft

There is no doubting the certitude of some things. It took only a couple of drinks at a party and Warwick would corner any and every one and talk about Unidentified Flying Objects. Tonight he had buttonholed Brandon.

One of the more concerning things about UFOs – said Warwick – is that they are always seen hovering near military establishments. Military bases of various kinds. Or if not, at least an air force plane or an aircraft carrier. It implies that these UFO aliens are snooping on our military. One would think that aliens would be interested in Nature – our mountains and lakes, our trees and animals. Even our weather. But no! They snoop around the military bases, and this implies that their intentions are not friendly. Don’t you think?

Brandon felt trapped. He clearly had to respond, because there was no one else in on the conversation. Just him and Warwick. So he said that Warwick’s point was very perceptive. Yes, it did look like these cosmic aliens were preparing for an Earth take-over. One would think that if the aliens were going to surprise the Earthlings they would cover their intent by making appearances at less war-prone environments. Why not be furtively seen in the sky at the Chelsea Flower Show, for example?

Quite true! Quite true! said Warwick excitedly. The signs certainly point to an imminent attack.

Brandon made a mental note to pass this observation on to his headquarters, somewhere in the vicinity of Proxima Centauri.

1073. Viewing one’s life

Harvey had, as is the lot of every human, passed on. To his astonishment there was some sort of continuing existence, and he discovered that if he travelled out into space far enough he could watch himself in the different stages of his life. It was all to do with the speed of light and watching that light present images of his past as it sped through space and so on…

There’s Harvey now, watching himself as a toddler. He’s crawling through a field of tall grass. Oh isn’t he so cute? So adorable!

And there is Harvey now, at his wedding. What a magnificent wedding it was! He can move unseen among the guests and hear their comments:

“God Milly, I’ve never been to such a boring wedding. What an old fart that preacher man was.”

Oh well… and here’s Harvey simply walking down the street when he was about 52.

It’s so fascinating viewing one’s life as if in a movie. Harvey’s been doing it now for 472 years. He’s obsessed with himself. He hates it but he can’t drag himself away.