Nothing that a bit of moisturiser won’t fix.
You may find this shocking, but I’ve tried drugs, lots of alcohol—even a strong cup of tea and a good lie down—and I still don’t understand a bloody thing Professor Brian Cox tells us on the telly. And it doesn’t help that BC, as I prefer to call him, is full of all kinds of high-minded theories that trash the very essence of every science fiction and horror story ever written—the bastard.
But at least I’ve figured out BC’s wrong.
Take, for example, that BC doesn’t believe we’ll ever meet any decent aliens. Not even any Borg, which to be honest most of us would probably pass on any having any introductions. For a start, this opinion is totally unsupported by the hundreds of innocent people have been abducted by flying saucers, unwittingly sucked up by some light beam thingy, then had a vacuum cleaner nozzle shoved up their arse for a quick bit of anal probing. Try telling them that aliens don’t exist. Mind you, I will admit that the anal probing seems a bit extreme—I mean, the aliens can traverse the galaxy, but they haven’t figured out x-ray technology yet? Odd.
BC’s alien-less concept is built on a surprising idea. We’re all familiar with the problem of the vast distances through space and that pesky limitation of not travelling faster than the speed of light—that we’re all just too far apart to ever meet each other. However, that’s a lot of twaddle. Two hundred years ago reaching the moon was considered just as impossible.
But time is the other stumbling block. That’s not the time it takes Telstra to answer your support phone call—which sometimes can be measured in millennia—or what time you can really have your first beer on a public holiday. The issue is that our universe is 13.81 billion years old (or roughly 6000 years, if you believe the Old Testament) while our civilisation might be lucky to last 100,000 years, which is not much more than a lazy yawn in comparison. Okay, no one’s quite sure about that one, but the point is that any alien intelligence zooming around the universe has to exist at the same time as us. We all need to be building UFO’s and anally probing each other at the same time to ever possibly bump into each other. Instead, what’s more likely is that The Borg were pissing off the Daleks, while the first Predator was chomping on the first Alien… while human beings were still trying to rub two sticks together to light our first fag.
Lately, BC has offered another theory. That our universe isn’t the only one. The bursting bubble of the Big Bang Theory wasn’t a single event, but just one of millions of fizzy things happening in an enormous, gargantuan place that created unlimited, multiple universes. Now we’re starting to say shit like “infinity” and “infinite possibilities”. Accept that stuff, and you’re allowing the possibility that somewhere, sometime, out there in the impossible vastness of space, there’s another you reading this blog (bloody hell, two readers—I’m chuffed). It’s the same as the old saying, “Give an infinite amount of monkeys an infinite amount of typewriters, and one of them will eventually write War and Peace”. Personally, I reckon Dan Brown’s Da Vinci Code is more likely.
You can’t have it both ways. BC can’t say “aliens don’t exist” and at the same time insist there are an infinite amount of possibilities. One day, we’ll meet aliens (friendly ones who won’t shove a Hoover up our bums) and ask them, “How do you travel faster than the speed of light, and through time?” And the answer will be, “Pfftt, piss of cake—with this button here. But don’t press it too often, because the damned gas consumption goes through the roof.”
So next time you get a clear night sky with no moon and plenty of stars, stand out in the garden and hold one hand up to the sky. Line the tip of your middle finger only on The Big Dipper and say loudly, “Fuck you, Brian Cox. The truth is out there.”
By the way, one of my original horror books, A Place to Fear, is all about aliens turning people into zombies. Lots of readers called it science fiction, but really it’s horror. You’ll find links here.
For those of you interested in a progress report about my new writing, I’ve been really caught up creating audiobooks of my Horror Story Volumes series—and I’ll admit I’ve been a bit slack in the “new writing” department. But things are balancing out. New books are on the drawing board and an audiobook of Footprints in the Snow is almost finished.
I’m not wasting any time watching the footy. Honest—well, hardly ever.
Is this a real UFO?
Well, no — it’s actually an artist’s impression of what a very normal, very reliable woman witnessed through her aircraft window above Sao Paolo, Brazil. So normal, she didn’t freak out, but instead calmly drew a sketch while the memory was still fresh. And the folks at The Object Report reckon she might be onto something.
It could be compelling evidence that aliens from another planet have perfected faster-than-light travel, while at the same time being absolutely crap at aerodynamics.
Actually, this V-shape “boomerang” type of UFO is well-documented. Versions of it have been reported for decades. Your basic, boring ol’ flying saucer design is so last year’s model it’s not funny.
There is a sensible explanation for this. UFOlogists and supporters of interplanetary travel in general have believed for a long time that aliens visit other planets by flying through worm holes that transcend time, space and all those road works where the local councils always seem to be fixing a perfectly good piece of fucking road. These worm holes shift through space, kind of like a vacuum cleaner tube floating in the ocean, and the entry and exit points constantly change.
Which means that back in the 1960’s or so, we were being visited by aliens from the planet Splodge where they built saucer-shaped space craft. Now, in 2015 and with the worm holes somewhere totally different, we’re seeing visitors from the planet Splunge where they prefer V-shaped rockets (except they don’t use anything so archaic as “rockets”).
It’s wrong to be so dismissive about the existence of UFO’s and aliens. I have no doubt they are real — there’s got to be countless other planets with intelligent life. The only sensible argument involves how we might ever bump into each other, given the odds of time and distance. We should remember that 150 years ago getting off the ground at all was considered impossible. Today, Richard Branson will flog you an airline ticket to the moon.
Besides, again you have to take into account the numbers game — just like the “Are ghosts real?” question. Over nearly five millennia from the ancient Egyptians scratching pictures of flying saucers inside the pyramid’s toilet cubicles to a very reliable woman spotting something strange outside an aircraft window, we’ve had hundreds of thousands of UFO sightings. Do you really believe every single one of them is wrong? That’s it’s not possible that one — just one — might be genuine? Because that is all it would take. That a single UFO sighting during a period of over 5000 years of not-so-close encounters… is real.
We are not alone. Aliens are among us. They’re shite at aerodynamics, so maybe not so advanced after all. I’ll bet their ray-guns are rubbish, too.
Check out the full story at www.TheObjectReport.com. It’s a cool site!
My latest release in the Horror Story series is out and available at Amazon. At 75 pages it’s not exactly “short” as I keep saying these stories should be, so you’re getting a bargain. Here’s the blurb behind the book.
It was just an old bed — rather ordinary, bought for the spare room. Except that a hundred years earlier a woman called Rose, who practiced in the occult and dark magic, slept in it. Now Rose’s unhappy spirit comes as part of the deal – Rose’s angry ghost comes with the bed. That’s not what you’d call a bargain.
Angela and Nathan are a young couple, married only two years before, both of them professionals. They’re happy and in love, although the pressures of modern life can be challenging some days. The antique bed is just right for the spare room in their expensive apartment.
Rose’s spirit doesn’t like happy marriages unless you’re prepared to wed the Devil.
Sleeping in the bed promises erotic dreams with perfect lovers — more passionate and daring than your wife, more considerate and satisfying than your husband. Before long, the dreams are much better than reality.
Three’s a crowd in any relationship even when one person is already dead.
Readers please note: This story contains some strong sex scenes that aren’t common in my previous Horror Story releases.