Lost Time Incident

August 30, 2003

Standing on the Shoulders of Giants

You can assure the public time and time again that what you've done is for the good of science and for the good of humanity, but if you can't get the media on your side you're sunk.

Regardless of where you stand on the subject of public relations, facts are facts. They can not be swayed by public opinion. And the fact of the matter is that the human race needs to be ready to leave this planet.

Every year, new alien visitors stop by, tell us they're only refueling, get back in their ships and leave. All we know is they're fleeing a menace, but every ship's crew fails to describe that threat in any way that makes any sense in any Earth tongue. We're very glad they tried, though, while they were raiding our oceans for salt water and sea life and buying beef jerky and pastries.

So we began to design people suited for the future, starting with babies. As scientists, we stand on the shoulders of giants. Not literally, mind you. Well, we could do it literally if we wanted to take the time to design and create giants, but we were busy with the space baby project. And the space baby project required us only to stand on metaphorical giant shoulders. So stand we did.

We decided, based on our research of the space babies of alien races and our own race's body of space-based literature, that brains encased in impenetrable plastic shells were the way to go. Also, one of the men funding our study was invested heavily in the plastics industry. He assured us that did not effect his opinion that plastic-encased brains were necessary for space survival.

"Look, gentlemen," he told us. "I may be richer than the rest of you put together, but when I have my pants put on me in the morning, it's one leg at a time, just like the rest of you. Now make the damn babies with the brains you can see through plastic shells on their heads. They will look cute and the public will love it."

We took him at his word. That may have been a mistake.

I have heard that the collectible market is now able to charge good money for original copies of the coupons that we mailed out offering a free top-of-the-skull replacement for babies that qualify. I don't know why that is. The offer still stands, if you have a little one at home that you would like to see readied for space.

Because the aliens keep coming to our planet. You've seen them on the nightly news. You've heard them on the radio.

"Thanks for the water! Our sociologists are fascinated by your pornography!" they say, and then the doors on their craft close and they're gone.

Don't you want your child to be fascinated by the pornography of other worlds? Don't you want your child to one day be reclining in the vastness of space, thinking to himself, "I may not clearly remember what my parents look like anymore, since compared to the wonders I have viewed throughout the universe, such things as others of my race that I haven't seen for years can't help but pale... but I will always be grateful to them for the opportunity they gave to me when they allowed the National Planetary Escape Route Company replace the top of my head with this smooth, cool plastic."

And their alien co-pilot and lover will extend some sort of an appendage and stroke that plastic and the joy your child will feel will make it all worthwhile. And it's free! We're subsidized by the government! You're just being squeamish!

We don't know when it will arrive, but the threat that is pursuing the aliens who pass by us will one day reach this planet. And in some way, shape or form, it will destroy us all. Maybe we will be eaten, maybe we will melt, maybe we will be driven insane. Maybe we will be forced to fight each other or eat each other for its amusement. Maybe it will use us for spare parts.

I don't know what will happen.

But I do know that I would like to give your child a plastic head. Just the top half. I would like to give your child a new lease on life. That is my dream.

Please stop protecting your children from me and crushing my dream. Thank you.

Posted by Michael at August 30, 2003 09:00 PM