Put Your Money Where Your Gerker Is!

Falling through the universe at the speed of life

By David Glenn Cox

This subject has been bothering me for a while now. I’m hesitant to write about it for reasons which will become all too apparent. It is a subject which logic and mathematics dictate must be so. Advanced civilizations with the answers to all our questions. We can’t be all alone in the universe with billions of stars. But it is one of those polarizing subjects as soon as you say space aliens, the bartender wants to cut you off. Ancient Aliens, resident aliens, from home videos to Hollywood movies these little gray bastards are doing all right for themselves.

So, I’m flipping through the TV channels and there is a story about an alien spacecraft which crashed in Texas in the 1890s. So, this judge was watching over his fields when a ball of light struck his windmill and crashed. The critter inside was flash fried and there was a debris field. The folks in Texas gave the little fella a Christian burial, which I’m certain the folks back on the planet Glurp appreciated. But it got me to thinking, that is third alien space craft accident in a Century. What kind of aliens are we dealing with here? They can navigate a star cruiser across the galaxy, but can’t handle local traffic?

All my life, I’ve read books and seen movies about these guys. They can read my mind and have gigantic spaceships and superpowers and all manner of capabilities, just don’t let them park the car at the Kroger. You have to figure in Texas in the 1890s the skies were pretty clear of aerial obstructions given that the Wright Brothers were still in high school. Could it be these aliens could develop a star cruising capability without discovering collision avoidance radar? Maybe Earth is like where Glurping teenagers like to hang out. Sneak Dad’s spaceship out the garage while in their regenerative cycle. It would explain their reticence to communicate, afraid if they talk to us Dad might find out they snuck out the family space cruiser.

The Roswell, New Mexico crash had two, count em, two ships collided during a thunderstorm. Meaning they don’t have weather radar either. You know what they say, when in Rome. Is the earth so overwhelmed with alien spacecraft that they are bumping into each other? Is pilot training so loose weaved they don’t have a minimum altitude proscribed? “Look, if you’re ever flying on earth look out for the weather. One-minute nice day the next, thunder and lighting. And this is especially important; if you find yourself in this weather to look out the window occasionally, and try to avoid hitting any other alien spacecraft which might be in your vicinity.  

So, let’s do the autopsy. How do you hit a windmill while piloting an interstellar craft? A. you are distracted, texting probably or you dropped the joint in between your legs and put it out with your beer. B. The ship was out of control due to some mechanical malfunction. Any way you boil it down it doesn’t look good. In all the episodes of Star Trek, how many shuttle craft were lost due to traffic accidents? “I had the right of way Captain, when she pulled out right in front of me without signaling. I hit her and then I hit this big hulking thing sticking out of the ground!” Don’t worry about it Checkoff, I’ll send the accident report to the Star Fleet insurance company and I’m sure it will be fine.

Could it be we are in the hillbilly part of the galaxy? It would explain a lot about us as a species. “On our planet, we call your world Appalachia.” Overrun with low-class red neck aliens with good press agents using the earth as their hang out and drag strip. It is almost demoralizing, for fifty years I’ve been told they can do anything, read your mind probe your rectum anything. Hollywood gives us giant spacecraft playing music on Devil’s Tower or over the White House. Reality gives us an inebriated idiot flying at hypersonic speed fifty feet of the ground! That doesn’t point to Einstein. I imagine a stunt like that is just as unwise on Glurp as it is on this planet. I doubt seriously that this one held the cure to cancer.

It could explain why the good aliens won’t speak to us with our reputation as a planet overrun with the low-class aliens using earth as their Vegas weekend. What happens on earth stays on earth! “Hey, I know! Let’s go get us some earth folks and probe em!” Naw, we did that last weekend. “Alright, race you to Texas then. Last one there is a gronk!”

Hello, Mr. Zonkeski? Well, Gibbler and me well, he snuck out your spaceship. We was racing to Texas and well. Wham, he hit a windmill sticking right up out of the ground. He was only going hyper-speed. He wasn’t going fast or nothing.

How embarrassing, our planet the galactic Florida where aliens go to get drunk and party. Makes it the pretty obvious why they don’t communicate, they’re just here for the weed. I guess we’ve overlooked possibility that the aliens could actually behave worse than us. “That’s the planet of bad credit and over on the right is the planet of the perpetually unemployed. That’s the planet of the far-sighted, travelers across the universe with a penchant for bumping into things and a reputation for substance abuse.

I bet the new spaceships don’t even have flashing lights on them. That’s just something the redneck aliens around here put on their ships trying to show off to each other. Revving their engines, “Put your money where your gerker is! I’ll race anyone for a case of beer! From here to Texas and back!”

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