Space Brothers … From Space!

In over fifty years, I think I’ve heard every theory about extraterrestrials possible. The simplest is that it is a tissue of lies woven from the hopes, fears, and credulities of the all-too-human race. That aliens have advanced technology that makes travel from distant worlds possible. That galactic distances make such travel impossible. That they are from a parallel dimension; that they are time-travelers from our own distant past; that they are time-travelers from our own distant future; they are from the hollow earth; they are from under the sea. They are gods; they are angels; they are devils; they are robotic probes. They love us; they hate us; they are indifferent to us; they are scared of us. They are one vast benevolent federation; there are good and bad aliens; they are at war. They created us in the past; they interbred with us in the past; they are interbreeding with us now. There are many different species; they are one species with several variations, including artificial drones. That the government is back-engineering alien tech recovered from crashes; that the crashes are deliberate to drip-feed us tech. The flying saucers are complete bunkum; that’s what the aliens want us to think; that’s what the government wants us to think. The whole foofaraw is a black-ops experiment from a higher dimension; a method of poking the computer simulation that is our world.

For all I can tell, the truth might be one grand unified theory combining all these ideas, ‘in a sense.’ Alls I know is that these things have kept my mind percolating for decades, and have made quite a few people a good living. I remember one night, not too long ago, when we were all running around in the front yard. We suddenly saw some lights dashing about in the sky, and for a brief moment I was filled with a thrilling sensation, wondering if after many years, ‘this was it.’ I now figure it was probably somebody messing around with drones, just as they were becoming more popular. But for a while my heart leapt at the thought that the old childhood dream of contact might come true. In some corner of my brain, I guess ‘I want to believe.’