Hey, kids, PJTT of the AJATTWC here, (for you newcomers to my blog, that's Pope John The Tall of the All John All The Time World Church), with more ponderings and ruminations on the status of our world today, as viewed through the beer goggles of my life's experiences. (Boy, that was a mouthful, something I have NEVER had a woman tell me.)
One of my duties every day as the Popemeister is to scour the Internet and the daily L.A. Times for stories and information that I feel might potentially have an impact on my followers. (It's also a good way of keeping up with the Kardashians, which is in no way similar to keeping up with the Joneses.) As you may know, if you've taken the time to read any of my previous posts, I have an intimate working knowledge of all sorts of alien (outer space, not other country) civilizations, such as the Testicles (pronounced TES-TI-CLEES) race of beings from the Outer Ring of the Halides or the Scklorn Mutants from the Outer Halcyons of Ambergris.
I have been able to visit these wondrous other worlds by virtue of being the owner of the Royal Unionship Kidding, or the RU Kidding for short, which is an atomic powered rocket ship that is capable of attaining the Speed of Aroma, allowing me to venture forth into far-flung galaxies (flung there, I assume, by Our Creator, Fred) and intermingle with all manner of creatures, learning all I could about their alien ways and cultures. Only by virtue of my lofty and influential position as the Pope Guy of the AJATTWC was I able to obtain the "Kidding", name it my "official" rocket shop and use it to explore vast, uncharted regions, like Cleveland (the city, not the character in "Family Guy", which, by the way, is hysterical, and the only program, other than sports and an occasional movie, that I ever watch on TV) or the planet Zatox in the Donar Belt.
I have become increasingly frustrated in my attempts to convince my fellow earthlings, after having spent many years and much of the church's treasury ($86.32) to that end, that, indeed, intelligent life does abound in the Universe outside our immediate planet, unlike here in LA (pronounced LAH). I have returned with alien artifacts as evidence (if you think a fax machine, a device that allows you to insert a piece of paper, push some buttons and then have the same piece of paper appear in another location, when the original piece IS STILL IN YOUR MACHINE, wasn't designed by an alien, you must live in LA), produced proof of their existence among us (Rosie O'Donnell, Gary Coleman, that complete doofus, Arnold "The Governator" Schwarzeneggar, who was recently termed out as the Governor of CA and was just last week named the Director of the Totally Inept Council of Dumbshits, in recognition of his accomplishments as the leader of a state where an IQ slightly over room temperature qualifies you to be a member of the Legislature thereof, Mick Jagger, Colonel Sanders and that spooky looking guy that used to play drums for the rock band Fleetwood Mac; I believe he had an older brother named Big), had published numerous photos of their environmental impact on our planet, such as Stonehenge, the tomato plant, about which no one can decide whether its a fruit or a vegetable, the various and unusual patterns "drawn" in the cornfields and wheat-fields of our vast country, that hideous excuse for architecture, the Disney Concert Hall here in LA., and indeed, all the reports of UFOs and alien abduction that have appeared in such respected journals as the National Enquirer or the World News Today. After placing all this evidentiary material in front of the people of Earth, most of them still believe that there exists no intelligence, outside of our planet, in the Universe. Or in Washington, for that matter.
So imagine my delight when I read the article in a recent edition of the L.A. Times that began with the headline "NASA Finds Dozens of 'Just Right' Planets", which reported that scientists (you didn't think it was the janitor, did you?) at NASA have discovered more than 50 planets in our galaxy that are capable of sustaining life as we know it. The article explained that these planets are referred to as "Goldilocks" planets; the environmental conditions of these worlds are not too hot and not too cold but "just right" to allow liquid water (their term), which is necessary to sustain life as we understand it. (Isn't "liquid water" an oxymoron? Yeah, I know, water can be frozen, but then its ice, not water. And it can be heated to a vapor, but then its steam, not water. And if you add hops, some grains and heat, then its beer, praise to the gods of inebriation.) When I finished reading the article, I felt vindicated after all the years of skepticism and disbelief from my Earth-born critics.
Back in the 60's, scientists discovered a radio-wave that they said was being transmitted from outer space, emanating from a specific set of coordinates in the galaxy, that was, for a time, thought to be of that of a "civilization" because of the nature of the signal. It was named "C.T.A.-102" and later determined to be a "quasar", which had natural origins and was not a radio broadcast from some race of beings in the Uribe Ring of the Inner Asteroid Belt surrounding Ambergris. ("C.T.A.-102" was also a really funny song written by Roger McQuinn of the seminal American rock band The Byrds that dealt with the same subject. McQuinn was also an absolute virtuoso on the twelve-string guitar, which could possibly have been an alien invention as well, now that I think about it. "C.T.A.-102, we're over here receiving you, signals tell us that you're there, we can hear them loud and clear..." Thanks, Roger, for the tunes, and for the great vibe.) Even though this momentous discovery was not, as first believed, proof of "little green men" alive out there in the ether of space, it was a harbinger of more serious evidence, and the folks at NASA are on the verge of finally, after all these years and all that evidence, of getting it right.
I can only hope that, now that my teachings have the cachet and "weightiness" of my Popeship and the support of scientific enquiry, people of this planet will finally accept that notion that, no, Elliott, we're not alone in the universe. Just ask E.T. (Too bad they didn't have cell phones back when Spielberg made the movie; an iPhone would have been a lot less aggravation then that contraption they assembled in the woods.)
Besides, if it weren't for alien invasion, how else could you account for my ex-in-laws?
Love and Robert Heinlein,
PJTT
copyright 2011 Krissongs, Inc.
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