Good Vibes

The year I graduated from high school, the USA sent Pioneer 10 into space along with directions for finding us, should any aliens want to meet us. Assuming that aliens could tell that the naked creatures waving from the picture were the ones who made the craft bearing the message, we hoped that they might friend us and send back pictures of themselves — or maybe even visit.

Back in 1972 we were pretty much open to anything, except for people over thirty, whom we did not trust. The Peace Movement and the Summer of Love had left a sticky imprint on our national consciousness. We grew up to be Boomers, who don’t trust anyone under thirty. Though we are now lawyers and doctors and conservative talk show hosts, at heart we still believe that if we would all just make love, not war, everything would be groovy.

Stephen Hawking is enough older than me that he evidently never experienced Peace, Love and Understanding. Obviously he never turned on, tuned in or dropped out. In his uptight grown-up mind, humans are not naturally peaceful and full of good vibes. He has said, “We only have to look at ourselves to see how intelligent life might develop into something we wouldn’t want to meet.”

As for transmitting good vibes to aliens, he thinks we’re asking for trouble. Sending out a message to the universe saying, ‘Here we are’ is like posting your social security number and birthday on the internet, to paraphrase his remarks on the subject.

He has a good point. We Boomers should know better. We grew up on the Twilight Zone and bad science fiction movies. Haven’t they been warning us about this for years?

Wake up, people! It’s a cookbook!

What is more likely is that aliens are already here. Do you know who you’re talking to on the internet? Why do you believe the photos people show you are real? Even your own relatives could be spoofed by aliens posing as stranded travelers in London.

As foreigners continue buying up our real estate, aliens are snatching up our identities. There are, in fact, more blogs on the internet than there are people who can read and write. Where do all these extra blogs come from? You already know the answer.

Aliens. They have learned to astro-turf. They are sock puppets, convincing us that Obama is an alien, urging us to abandon the space shuttle and hunker down in front of our television sets, watching Glee. Their agenda is not to cook us, but to sell us juicers and shoe-zinis. Is it vegetable juice that has kept Jack LaLanne looking so young? If you believe that, there’s a cookbook I’d like to sell you.

This cannot end well. The good thing is that we probably won’t notice. We’re too busy posting status updates on Twitter.

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