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Alt Text: Why I Would Make a Perfect Alien Liaison

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The United Nations has appointed an “alien liaison” to act as an ambassador to any extraterrestrial explorers, invaders or skin-harvesters that might visit Earth, London’s Sunday Times and other news sources reported this

week.

However, alleged liaison Mazlan Othman issued a statement denying she had been hired as any sort of alien account executive, which is good news because that means the position is open, right?

bug_altext I’d like to apply.

Repeated calls to the United Nations asking how I can get to be the guy who makes friends with the space creatures have resulted only in an ominous visit from the FBI, so I’m forced to make my application here, in hopes that it will get me the job I was born to think about doing, maybe.

My qualifications:

In 1981, I negotiated a settlement between my Death Star Droid and Lobot action figures over who got to ride the tauntaun figure with the hatch in the back to stick your legs in. (For the record, Lobot got the tauntaun with the understanding that my mom would buy me a patrol dewback as soon as possible.)

I have read Stranger in a Strange Land three times, which gives me a number of skills I can use in case our alien visitors are free-love hippies. (Fingers crossed!)

My extensive perusal of the various Star Trek series and movies has given me the ability to identify more than 40 aliens and alien-human hybrids based on the subtle differences in their forehead ridges.

I devil a mean egg.

I have one of those memory-erasing things from Men in Black, although to be honest I’m not sure where I put it.

I speak the binary language of moisture vaporators.

I have watched many episodes of The Twilight Zone, preparing me for the possibility that we are the true aliens.

My studies have indicated that certain forms of communication are universal among all sentient life forms. For instance, throwing the horns and banging your head means “rock on, dude” everywhere in the universe.

In case our alien visitors turn out to be hostile, I will make sure to stockpile many well-known invader-defeating substances like cold germs and ordinary water.

If we are visited by aliens who breathe methane gas instead of oxygen, I’ll tell them to just keep moving along. We don’t want their type around here.

If, upon my taking office, aliens don’t immediately show up and demand a liaison, I will dedicate myself to throwing a constant series of high-quality, elegant and very expensive “practice parties.”

We’ll probably want to give our new inhuman pals a little memento of Earth to bring back to their planet and remember us by. Luckily, I know how to wrap a platypus.

If we are visited by the Man from Mars, I will endeavor to make sure he stops eating cars and eating bars and, from now on, will only eat guitars.

If a mostly human-looking guy steps out of a spaceship and he’s holding a cat or a plant or a shiny box or something, I will address the cat/plant/box instead of the guy because, trust me, that’s how it works.

I am nonjudgmental and not inclined to make assumptions. For instance, if aliens descend upon the planet, incinerating the trees and crops with a wave of fire before sending out screeching flying drones to pluck people from the streets and drag them off to labor in the mercury mines of Pluto and the plutonium mines of Mercury, I will consider the possibility that it’s what their culture considers a ceremonial message of peace.

I won’t say, “Beep beep! Does not compute!”

Upon meeting them, I won’t say, “Beep beep! Does not compute!” That’s a robot thing, not an alien thing.

I have trained for hours in the art of understanding the complex and often unintelligible communications of beings with thought processes so alien that it’s hard to say whether they really think at all, because I read web forums.

Call me, United Nations! I’m quite certain that I can make sure that our world can live together in peace and understanding with extraterrestrial beings. Or, barring that, I’m pretty sure I can get some sort of overseer job in the ritual battle pits.

- – -

Born helpless, nude and unable to provide for himself, Lore Sjöberg eventually overcame these handicaps to become a liaison, a horizon and a Higgs boson.

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Authors: Lore Sjöberg

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