Article by an Anonymous Alien
Translated by Kevin Strider
Greetings, Earth-Things. It has come to my attention that you are a load of mindless cretins, and to prove my point, here is just a micro-serving of the stupid and idiotic things I have observed Human say and do in a dump they called "England".
1
Your brother, or some other genetically related bio-form, comes home soaking wet, with water dripping from a limp umbrella, and you observe, "Oh, you are all wet. Is it raining?" No, you half- baked anthropoid, it's just that they've been pissed on by a giant, who kindly provided them with an umbrella beforehand.
2
Your mother is lying on the floor, blood oozes from her right ear and left eye, and you say, "Oh, my god!! Are you all right, Mum?" Yes, you carbon-based cretin, of course she's all right. She's just rammed a tentpin through her brain, and you've forgotten that it's April 1st.
3
Some unfortunate Earth-Thing is lying under the wheel of a huge metal vehicle, half-crushed, half-ripped to shreads, and suddenly everyone's gathering round for as close a look as possible, then shrinking away pale faced, wailing about how they'll never be able to blot out the horror of the scene from their minds as long as they live, and "Isn't it terrible?". Why the Zarfunk did you look in the first place then?!!
4
Sport: you semi-evolved simians seem to get great delight from watching some extremely primitive quadropeds (which I believe you call horses) racing each other round an oval circuit. You even give other semi-eveolved simians pieces of paper and metal discs in the ope that you'll acquire more metal discs -- Unbelieveable!!!!
5
What really gets me though is how you often put not one, but two innane statements together in the same exhalation of breath! It amazes me how your brains have managed to survive. Here is an example:- Your companion has fallen down a deep hole, and has been impaled by a rusty spike. "Oh, no!" you utter. "You've fallen down a deep hole and have been impaled on a rusty spike!" -- You Earth-Things really are stupid!
However, all hope is not lost. My ship's psionic scanners did detect one source of intelligence, this magazine. Edited and published by an unusually fat-based bio-form, calling himself "John Steele". He is your kind's last hope, and you could do no better to facilitate your next step up the evolutionary rung than by sending him an article, to the address given on page three. If you are very lucky, he may even put a useful comment on the end of it.
Copyright The Bentilean 1999
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