You may have heard that some knucklehead on the internet posted an invitation for other knuckleheads on the internet to “storm Area 51” because “they can’t stop all of us!” This post is basically a classified ad, since Area 51 is classified as a highly classified area owned by the Air Force, presumably used to test experimental aircraft and weapons. It’s nearby to a town called Rachel, population 54, less Rachel herself who died in 1980. No one knows if Area 51 is involved with aliens from other planets, because the Air Force plays things very close to the vest. What am I personally going to do about this? I’m going to open an ice cream truck in Area 50, which is right next door, but nobody cares if you’re there or not. It’s hot as hell in Nevada, and nothing brings aliens closer together than ice cream. Aliens, I don’t know if you’re listening, but look at the side of the truck and decide what you want BEFORE it’s your turn to order, so you don’t hold up the line.
I’ll tell you right now I don’t believe in paranormal activities. Most people who know me will tell you that I also don’t believe in normal activities. I don’t believe in ghosts, for instance. Here’s a spoiler alert, because I don’t wish to ruin your religious beliefs, but why won’t people get it through their thick heads that after you’re dead, it’s no different than before you were born. The physical world survived without you then, and it will keep surviving when you are gone, unless you’re reincarnated as an alien, of course. I don’t believe in clairvoyance, even though I do boast some ability in that area myself. I can accurately predict the opening series of the first Giants game this year: First play, Saquon Barkley runs for a gain of one-and-a-half yards. Second play, Manning pass, incomplete. Third play, Manning pass, complete for three yards. Fourth play, Giants punt. Please laugh only when it turns out that I’m right. I could actually go on and predict the whole first quarter if you’d like. I don’t believe in déjà vu, except that every time I turn onto my street I feel like we’ve been down this road before.
I guess maybe I believe in the paranormal more than I thought I did. One thing I certainly do believe in is life on other planets. We went to a planetarium last year, and they showed this huge map of the universe, and each star on it could have 8 planets like ours, not counting Uranus (unless you want me to), capable of supporting life. I started to count all the stars, and I didn’t have time to count all of them but there were at least 26. What I definitely don’t believe in is spaceship sightings. Why on Earth would aliens come to Earth? Music is in a horrible state, there’s nothing but reality shows on TV, and we seem totally unable to govern ourselves. If aliens did invade us and take over the Earth, odds are it could be an improvement. If Illegal aliens do become a problem, we may have to do something about it. If I am elected, I will build a HUGE force-field around the United States, and I’m going to make the Martians pay for it. Did you hear that Martians? BUILD THE FORCE-FIELD! BUILD THE FORCE-FIELD!
I read that a spaceship from Israel crash-landed on the Moon and dumped these creatures called tardigrades all over the place. A tardigrade is a very weird microscopic organism that looks like an eight-legged pig with a shower drain stuffed into its mouth. It’s both adorable and very disturbing should you choose to look it up. You may not thank me for calling these to your attention, but they are somewhat fascinating because they can survive extreme heat and extreme cold while living in a state of suspended animation with no available water, and possibly survive on the Moon. I’m sure they thought they were just going to be hanging out on the spaceship, enjoying the mild temperatures and available water, and all of a sudden they wake up on the Moon. After they’ve cracked each other up for half an hour going, “That’s one giant leap for tardigrade-kind, and one small step for tardigrades!” “Yeah, because we’re microscopic! HAHAHAHA!,” reality sets in and it’s pretty boring. The same thing happened to me when I overslept on the train and ended up in Beacon. Beacon is no breathtaking metropolis at that hour but at least it isn’t the Moon.
I’m not going to whip myself into a lather just because we find some damn protozoan living on an ice cap on some faraway planet, unless it comes out that it’s highly advanced. We humans think we’re pretty smart stuff, but I’m not even sure people are highest on the food chain here on Earth. I go to work every morning, I take a car to a train to a bicycle to an elevator, and I bust my buttons for 8 solid hours, and during that time my cat sits around on its ass all day, gets all his meals, his dry cleaning done and sleeps for 23 hours out of 24. Now you tell me who’s smarter. By the way I never heard one stupid thing come out of a protozoan’s mouth, possibly because I’m not exactly sure which end its mouth is on. But I’ve heard plenty of stupid things come out of a human, many of them from me, actually.
What’s going to happen when I finally sign up for one of these rocket trips Elon Musk is planning, and the driver misses the exit and we end up on some planet with life on it? Just for fun I abduct one of the inhabitants to run some experiments on, hoping the event will be used in a soap opera plot on their planet’s TV station. “You’re not at ALL what I was expecting,” she says. “I thought you’d have this big round head, dark goggly eyes, long, graceful limbs, etc.” “Well, let’s get to the experiments,” I say. “How do you reproduce, for instance?” “We just use the Xerox machine. It’s in the corner if you’d like to have a go.” I put the alien into a shoe box with some lettuce. That’s what I always used to do when I was a kid and I caught a salamander or toad or something, and thought it might want to whip up a salad for itself. The alien makes a noise! It’s trying to converse with me in its own language! I open the box and it turns out the noise was made by the alien tying my shoe laces together- I suppose I should have taken the shoes out of the shoe box.
I’m not sure we need to travel light-years away to find intelligent life, or even light-months. Let’s stop all this nonsense and search for intelligent life on THIS planet. We can start with the White House. I don’t believe that any trace of water has been found there, so we can start by identifying any low-level organisms that can survive only on Diet Coke.
Say hello at: email@example.com