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The Journals of Wild Poets

Dear S.E.T.I.
Journals - Stormcrow
Written by Caribou Slim
Just as a sapless tree will split and decay, so an inflexible force will meet defeat. The hard and mighty lie beneath the ground, while the tender and weak dance on the breeze above.
  
Monday, 23 February 2009 19:42
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Facebook has shown me the why behind the silence.

Yeah, they know we're here. It's not like they haven't been here before. 

They beamed big smiles and clapped for us when we got the pyramids up, proud of us that we had learned to build with blocks. They were tickled pink by the Nazca lines... back then we were awfully cute. All toddlers are. 

But a couple of years down the line and things weren't turning out so well for us. We didn't really learn to share, or not to hit. We didn't bother to clean up after ourselves, and rarely brushed our teeth. We liked to shit where we ate, and we ate a lot of shit. We started getting fat, and purged a lot in public. It didn't seem to matter that some part of us recognized genocide as an unhealthy crash diet - seemed we like to cut ourselves more than we really wanted to get in shape.

It was just becoming a little too painful to watch. So they decided to take a little space for a bit, to give us some time to work things out.  

So after a few hundred/ thousand years, they get a friend request. And another. And another, until spam fills the radio waves. And it's not like it's even personalized or anything - it's obvious that we forgot their names. But they're a little curious...

So they go and check out our profile from orbit. And it's bad. Everyone over here  is screaming in CAPS LOCK and we're fatter than ever, and we still haven't learned how to brush our teeth and our home is waist-high in garbage and somehow we broke the damn thermostat and are getting sweatier and sweatier and we do nothing but hit and yell at each other. And the when they listen to the crap we post up on the airwaves, that seals the deal... it's obvious that we jumped off the deep-end in concrete underwear.

And it's not like we're just toddlers anymore, poking at each other with sticks. Somehow we got into Daddy's gun closet, the one with the big radioactive shotguns, and we're waving them around like parade batons, high as kites on booze and uppers and downers and religion and ego, firing them off into the air and into the ground just to watch them go BANG.


So yeah, remember that when you look up at stars in wonder, this is what they see when they look back down...

alt


And that, dear S.E.T.I., is why you have yet to hear a peep back. Yes, they may have been our friends when we were kids, but they sure as hell don't want to be now.

 
Comment (2 posts)
Dear S.E.T.I.
Mar 10 2009 00:59:16
How convenient!!! Is this an AD? Where's the phone number? Does it come with a scratching post, installation included, seeing eye pit bulls?
#58
Re:Dear S.E.T.I.
Mar 11 2009 19:16:25
No scratching post, but I'll send you a free 40oz with every purchase.
#62

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