- The Alien C.W.
Showing posts with label racial hatred. Show all posts
Showing posts with label racial hatred. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 8, 2015
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Happy New Year
Dear Friends and Followers
Despite my best efforts, I could not get Big Dope, or anyone
else in the family, to stay up until midnight and enjoy that most peculiar
practice you have of welcoming the New Year.
We have no tradition on Falloonia that is exactly similar to
this celebration as our climate is more fixed and steady than yours. So we don’t
celebrate a passage of time, but rather a passage of epochs.
For example, we celebrated when we made the collective
choice that Mindeavorlists were no longer inferior to Epicatasrophists. It is
written that it was a choice that created much peace and harmony. By making it
a source of a planet-wide celebration, we assured ourselves that we would not
slide back into the old prejudices, as some of your species seem prone to do
from time to time.
I still must say, though, that there is something uplifting
about an annual period of self-examination and resolve. Of course I realize
that the resolves are not binding (see mine of last week). Nonetheless, it is
uplifting to see the celebration of a new start. To this end, I have made the
following suggestions for Big Dope to enact for the coming year.
- C.W. is to have his own car
- C.W. is to have his own thick piece of soft material used
to reduce friction or jarring (Editor’s
note: he means “pad.”)
C.W. can invite friends over for slumber parties and this
includes Repicanastors and their accompanists.
 |
| May this year be the one during which your species finds a philosophy of peace, love, and respect for all peoples. - C.W. |
- Mrs. Big Dope will let C.W. have his accordion back
- Double secret probation will no longer be used for
punishment
- The statute of limitations will expire on all previous
practical jokes, and
- C.W. will once again be allowed to assume the shape of
Rick Santorum and go to gay bars.
Please support me in these with your comments and
exhortations.
Happy New Year!
Your friend,
The Alien C.W.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
88. Awakenings
C.W. had warned me he was working on a project, so I was not surprised when I got to the condo and found him hard at work. What did surprise me was the extent of his efforts. He is a little on the lazy side at times.
“Hey, Big Dope,” he said, with his usual respect. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be just a moment.”
This was gracious of him as it was my apartment. I ignored it and sat down to watch him work.
His appearance was reminiscent of a Hollywood director of the golden era, complete with beret and knee britches. He sat at one end of a folding table and watched a DVD player. He had evidently been reviewing films. As he concentrated on the monitor, I scanned the titles. They were from a single genre, monster films of the 1950s. Scattered in piles were familiar titles, including, Godzilla, Them!, Attack of the 50 Foot Woman, The Incredible Shrinking Man, the Beast from 20,000 fathoms, Wasp Woman, It came from Beneath the Sea, and others.
I declined to grant him the pleasure of an inquiry.
After a few moments, he glanced up from reviewing one of my personal favorites, Tarantula.
Want to know what I’m doing?
I’m all aquiver,” I said, striving to act disinterested.
“Providing a service for your species.”
“A service?”
“Yes, as in doing something nice for humankind.” He paused and reflected. “After all, most of your people believe, as Sam Harris pointed out, that I made the journey to your planet just to molest ranchers and their cattle.”
“I see,” I said, although I didn’t.
“Take all these films,” he said. “What are the common threads?”
“Uh,” I said, suspecting a trick question. “Scary?”
“Well first,” he said. “They represent physical characteristics that defy any scientific fact.”
I had long suspected that. Click here for further clarification.
“I figured as much,” I said.
“Second, they all seem to emerge from a hidden fear of nuclear, or other scientific experiments gone bad.”
“Yes,” I said. “Remember that they appeared shortly after a world war in which 40 million people were killed.”
”So we have monsters appearing that had been hidden for eons and then released by some new catalyst.” He paused. “Am I getting too technical for you?”
“I’m with you so far,” I said. “But where is this going?”
“Ah,” he said. “Fast forward to present time in your country.”
“Present time?” I said.
“Yes. Your country in particular seems to be confronting social monsters that most believed long dead.”
”Social monsters?”
“Yes, just consider the attacks on the rights of women, denial of science, not wanting to care for the sick and elderly, anti-veteran sentiment, and the spewing forth of racial hatred generated by the election of a president of color in the most powerful nation on earth.”
I was stunned.
“Weren’t these monsters slain decades ago?”
“We thought so.”
”So what is the current catalyst? Can’t be atomic bombs this time.”
“I don’t know.”
”Ah,” he said. “So here is my gift to your species.”
“Your gift?”
“Yes,” he said. “I have the answer.”
I bit. “And?”
“Bottled water.”
“Bottled water?”
“Yes, the decision to begin paying for a free substance had to be a mental catastrophe of near Biblical proportions.”
That’s all folks.
“Hey, Big Dope,” he said, with his usual respect. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be just a moment.”
This was gracious of him as it was my apartment. I ignored it and sat down to watch him work.
His appearance was reminiscent of a Hollywood director of the golden era, complete with beret and knee britches. He sat at one end of a folding table and watched a DVD player. He had evidently been reviewing films. As he concentrated on the monitor, I scanned the titles. They were from a single genre, monster films of the 1950s. Scattered in piles were familiar titles, including, Godzilla, Them!, Attack of the 50 Foot Woman, The Incredible Shrinking Man, the Beast from 20,000 fathoms, Wasp Woman, It came from Beneath the Sea, and others.
I declined to grant him the pleasure of an inquiry.
After a few moments, he glanced up from reviewing one of my personal favorites, Tarantula.
Want to know what I’m doing?
I’m all aquiver,” I said, striving to act disinterested.
“Providing a service for your species.”
“A service?”
“Yes, as in doing something nice for humankind.” He paused and reflected. “After all, most of your people believe, as Sam Harris pointed out, that I made the journey to your planet just to molest ranchers and their cattle.”
“I see,” I said, although I didn’t.
“Take all these films,” he said. “What are the common threads?”
“Uh,” I said, suspecting a trick question. “Scary?”
“Well first,” he said. “They represent physical characteristics that defy any scientific fact.”
I had long suspected that. Click here for further clarification.
“I figured as much,” I said.
“Second, they all seem to emerge from a hidden fear of nuclear, or other scientific experiments gone bad.”
“Yes,” I said. “Remember that they appeared shortly after a world war in which 40 million people were killed.”
”So we have monsters appearing that had been hidden for eons and then released by some new catalyst.” He paused. “Am I getting too technical for you?”
“I’m with you so far,” I said. “But where is this going?”
“Ah,” he said. “Fast forward to present time in your country.”
“Present time?” I said.
“Yes. Your country in particular seems to be confronting social monsters that most believed long dead.”
”Social monsters?”
“Yes, just consider the attacks on the rights of women, denial of science, not wanting to care for the sick and elderly, anti-veteran sentiment, and the spewing forth of racial hatred generated by the election of a president of color in the most powerful nation on earth.”
I was stunned.
“Weren’t these monsters slain decades ago?”
“We thought so.”
”So what is the current catalyst? Can’t be atomic bombs this time.”
“I don’t know.”
 |
| Rick Santorum's greatest nightmare - C.W. |
“Your gift?”
“Yes,” he said. “I have the answer.”
I bit. “And?”
“Bottled water.”
“Bottled water?”
“Yes, the decision to begin paying for a free substance had to be a mental catastrophe of near Biblical proportions.”
That’s all folks.
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