Saturday, December 24, 2011

74. Peace

Hello Earthlings! I come in peace.

I’ve been wanting to use that line for some time and finally Big Dope has allowed me the freedom of my own column. Not exactly allowed, perhaps, since he knows nothing about it but when he wakes up and sees it published, I’m sure he will approve.

He will, won’t he?

We’ll see. In the meantime, permit me to offer my observations on this most interesting time of the year for you folks in my assigned territory.

This season, which began as an observance of the assumed birth date of your religious figure, Jesus of Nazareth, can create opposing motivations. Primarily though, it opens a window into the “better angels of your nature.”

For example, it highlights your wonderful talent for inclusion. Taking a rather obscure Jewish holiday, Hanukkah, and making it, too, a time of generosity, gathered another large segment of your population into this─if I may be permitted what Big Dope calls a “metaphor”─great tent of good will that seems to cover your country this time each year.

By now, practically any belief cohort in your country has a reason to join in the spirit of the holidays.

But allow me to return to the admirable aspects. The generosity, oh, the generosity. I read about folks anonymously dropping large bills into the Salvation Army kettles. I see toys being gathered for distribution as presents to children who otherwise might have only hoped for a small bag of candy or nuts, or maybe a needed piece of clothing. I see people who scarcely know one another, and who would not even nod in passing at other times, sincerely wishing each other good will.

You are a remarkable species. I continue to marvel at the words of the central figure in all this celebration.

“Give all your money to the poor.”

“Blessed are the peacemakers.”

“Judge not lest you be judged as well.”

“Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”

“If you have done this to the least of these my brothers, so also have you done it to me.”

“Don’t become divorced.”

Trust me, no more noble
 thoughts exist in the universe. - C.W.
Oops. Well, he did seem to evidence a habit of drifting from preaching into meddling, as they say. The point is, these seem to be great words to live by all year ‘round, and I have dutifully reported them to the Folloonian Elders as forming one of your species’ moral building blocks. They were impressed.

So what might we all learn from this season that is, as far as I know, unique in the galaxy? As I follow Big Dope around in his professional work, I hear him tell communities to “Build on your assets.” Good advice.

So, I leave you with the hopes that you will expand upon this most wonderful season of good-spirit and make your planet an enviable example of the use of intelligence for the betterment of all creatures.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

73. Words

C.W. said he was coming by to talk about our language, specifically the confusion about word meaning and word order. His antics have long since ceased to confuse me so I was scarcely surprised when he showed up at my door dressed as a monk. He smiled and raised his hand in a gesture of forgiveness as I opened the door.

Sed do absolutionem, fili mi,” he said.

“Get the hell out of the hall before someone sees you,” I said.

He looked confused.

“What is this ‘hell’ that I can remove from your corridor?” he said.

“Give me a break,” I said as I ushered him in.

“How does one ‘give’ an act of forcing a division?”

I grimaced. He sat and arranged his monk’s robe carefully before speaking.

“I have been learning Latin,” he said.


“Your modern English derives largely from that forgotten language, I understand.”

“Quite so.”

“So why all the confusion about word order?”


“Yes. In Latin, if one combines the words ‘house’ and ‘cat’ the order would make no difference.”

I thought for a moment, then said, “You have a point there.”

“And the combining of two innocent words for off-pigment purposes is beyond my understanding.”

“How so?”

“For example, you take a valid term used to describe a prolonged period of high winds.”

“You mean ‘a blow’”?

“Yes, my son.”

I ignored him.

“And then you attach to it the term used to describe what one does for a living …”

“That’s quite enough,” I said. “My wife is sleeping in the back room.”

“Speaking of your wife,” he said. “I have heard her on occasion use a term that I find particularly baffling.”

“And that is?”

“She refers periodically to a “Sinerase Date.”


“And that means?”

“That refers to the date that a politician with a checkered personal life uses to pinpoint the exact moment when he or she embraced a religious dogma.”

“I don’t understand.”

I explained. “That is the date before which one cannot question the politician’s past since, at that time, he or she ‘found religion’ and was absolved of all previous bad behavior.”

“Sort of a ‘Get out of Hell Free’ card?”

I smiled. “Sort of.”

“Does your so-called ‘news media’ fall for it?”

“Ask George W. Bush.”

He sighed. “I see.”

“Has this been any help?”

Blessings on you all. - C.W.
“My son,” he said. “Each day that I spend with your species causes its behavior to seem more to me like a puzzle hidden inside an egg FabergĂ© wrapped in a mystery.”

“You mean a FabergĂ© egg?”

“There you go with your word order again,” he said. He drew his monk’s hood over his head. “Ubi ubi est meus sub-ubi?”

Then, I swear, he crossed himself.

Saturday, December 10, 2011

72. Confrontations

C.W. is on a roll answering fan mail, so far be it from me to stop him. Let us continue.

Dear C.W.: My wife recently purchased a half-ton of “rice-grain seconds” from a food processing plant. She planned to feed it to her pets but they won’t touch it. Now we are stuck with it and can’t navigate the house for the stuff. She left bags at the doors of friends and neighbors until the sheriff’s office issued a warning. We have eaten rice in every form imaginable, including “rice dip” and “rice gazpacho.” Rice-art adorns every wall of the house. I suffer nightmares about drowning in a sea of rice. Should I confront her about this?

- Suffocating in Lonoke County

Dear Suffocating:

It is my conclusion, after two years of gathering data and undertaking tests, that American wives represent a sub-set of your species best left undisturbed. I think your expression is “Allow a somnolent canine to remain reposed,” or something like that.

The reasons are legion. First and foremost, as a unique practice, (and one that is a source of great amusement to Falloonians), your world has chosen to make the process of procreation a primary source of recreation and enjoyment whereas in all other galaxies it exists only for, … well, ... for procreation.

That having been said, not only have you made the act your primary focus in life, you grant control of its access solely (except in criminal cases) to the female units of your species. Therefore, alienating them immediately eliminates your chief form of amusement and pleasure. You may easily witness how prolonged deprivation can result in psychotic and anti-social behavior such as entering the fields of television-evangelism, law, or politics. (This, of course, solves the deprivation problem but may create others.)

I would recommend forbearance for this reason alone; however, there are more. For some reason (one that I have under observation) the process of natural selection has, over the last three billion years or so, created a severe unbalance in intellectual capability. The female units of your species are, sadly, quite a bit smarter than the males. In fact, a mental contest resembles a game of Falloonian Snockgrasting in which the Pengrastilists receive extra Crestallens. The result is truly sickening.

As a secondary result, this has granted the female units at least a majority of control over the monetary system.

As if that were not enough, I advise you to consider a phenomenon we have, in cataloging your species’ habits, termed “Enragement Extensionism.” This describes the practice of your female units to store anger for extremely long periods with no outward display. For reasons explained earlier, your males lack the mental capacity to retain agitation indefinitely while your females find the act both simple and useful.

As an example, I am currently documenting the case of an elderly couple, married 70 years, who live together in a nursing home. Recently, the male developed an extended case of bowel incontinence.

After considerable effort, the staff determined that his wife had been slipping a violent laxative into his afternoon tea.

When confronted and asked why, she said, “He knows damned good and well why.”

In many cases, the odd male-female mental inequity
is not confined to the human species. - C.W.
Further research pinpoints the time of the source-incident, still undermined as to its exact nature, to within days of the end of World War Two.

My advice to you? You’d better learn to love rice!

Thursday, December 8, 2011

71. Procreation

We continue to entrust the column to C.W. as he answers fan mail. Here is a rather urgent one received a few days ago. It warrants a mid-week publication.

Dear C.W.:

Could you please explain to us how many times the Duggers had to have sex to produce 20 kids? I am sure you can come up with some sort of equation to determine the answer. I am going to use this information to explain to my wife that if she loved me only 10 percent as much as Ms. Dugger loved Mr. Dugger I would be happy.
Needing Glasses in West Little Rock

Dear Needing Glasses:

Sorry to be the bearer of bad news; I am sure that your wife loves you but you must try to keep the matter in hand. The answer is … are you ready?

Just once.

That’s right─once.

You see, early in the marriage Ms. Dugger was fitted with what is called a Rapsacholian Sperm Locker, named after the famed Evangelist Billy Fred Rapsacholy. You will recall that he was a firm advocate of an American Theocracy based upon the teachings of the Apostle Paul.

One of the first strictures enacted by the Reverend Billy Fred was that, in accordance with the teachings set forth in I Corinthians, Chapter 7, Verse 7, the only justification for marriage is a lack of self-control. So, he was “agin” it (marriage) except for the weak-willed.

For those succumbing to the unnatural urges, the Reverend again followed Paul’s teaching in Verse 5 and said if you must “do it” (sex) get married first and then do it as seldom as possible to allow you to devote most of your time to prayer.

So, therein was the rub for many evangelical wives. They didn’t much care for the act in the first place, but they also were bound by the Old Testament command (Genesis 1:28) to “be fruitful and multiply.”

The solution? Enter the Rapsacholian Sperm Locker, designed by one of the Reverend Billy Fred’s followers before his church officially denounced any use of science.

The device is simple. Implanted near the uterus, it stores the effects of the first sexual intercourse, some billions of sperm. A few avoid capture, resulting in the first pregnancy. Afterwards, a single sperm is released whenever an egg is released.

“Voila”! as the French would say (although they themselves consider the device barbaric). There is a continuous flow of children until the death of the female unit or menopause, whichever comes first. Moreover, there are no further “filthy acts” to repent of.

Sadly for the Reverend, the device encountered a very limited reception. Recipients did seem to enjoy freedom from what they termed as “unwanted intrusions” but most tired of children exponentially after the first one.

The joys of unbridled procreation made famous by the Duggars
has spread to our neighbors in other countries.
Performance of the device is also erratic, some sequestered sperm seem to “lose their Mojo” while others form clusters of up to eight replicates before their release.

It appears that a combination of cooking sherry and Argo Starch tends to neutralize the effects of the device so modern case studies are rare; however, the bizarre publicity afforded the aforementioned family may spur a renaissance.

Sunday, December 4, 2011

70. Skeptics

Once more, in the spirit of the times, we entrust this week's entry to the Alien himself who has agreed to answer a mailing he received from a fan.

DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no C.W. They say he is just Big Dope’s alter ego. Papa says, “if C.W. says it, it's so.” Please tell me the truth; is there a C.W.?
The Virgin Anne Dillahunty, Rogers, Arkansas

Virgin Anne, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by home schooling and a lack of exposure to scientific thought and discovery. They do not believe except what they are told or see on television. They think that nothing can be which is not on Facebook. In this great universe of ours, if we could only understand ants, we could be witness to the wonderful secrets of our origins.

Yes, Virgin Anne, there is a C.W. He exists as certainly as Falloonian Gnoceracks exist. How dreary would be the world if there were no C.W. It would be as dreary as if there were no Virgins. There would be no quantum physics then, no natural selection to make sense of this existence. We should have no understanding, except in blind faith. The eternal light of knowledge would be extinguished as it nearly was on your planet a thousand years ago.

C.W. is someone’s alter ego! You might as well believe that the Sun is a chariot racing across the sky! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all night skies each night and not catch his transportation pod landing. Nobody sees C.W. unless he wants them to, but that is no sign that there is no C.W. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see electrons circling a nucleus? Have you ever seen bacteria? Of course not, but multitudes have been affected only because your species subjected them to scientific inquiry. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders, or horrors, there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

We welcome inquiries from all
our faithful readers. - C.W.
You may dissect the human heart and see what makes it beat. There is no veil covering the unseen world. Not even the darkest curtain of ignorance nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could hide it. Only science can allow us to begin to understand, as your species’ great Charles Darwin said, that “ … [F]rom so simple a beginning endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful have been, and are being evolved.” Ah, Virgin Anne, in all this galaxy there is nothing else more real and abiding than the natural world revealed.

No C.W.! Give thanks that he abides among us, questioning, spoofing, and amusing us with his style of pedantry. A thousand years from now, Virgin, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to expand the mind of childhood.

Your friend

The Editors