The planet earth has been sick for years. It has emphysema from breathing its own carbon emissions. The smokestacks of industry are gargantuan cigarettes. Terminal cancer is not far off.
(The Captains of Industry finally yanked the TV commercials — 🎶 Smokestacks smell good / Like a smokestack should. 🎶)
And now the planet’s population is sick. Millions of people are infected with the deadly virus. Many have already died. Others have died or been sickened by the vaccines. Entire countries are in lockdown. Disruptions in the food supply chain are causing dire shortages and soaring prices.
The world’s defense forces are at a low level of capability. Armies and air forces around the world have been weakened by the virus.
All in all, this is a perfect time to hear from the occupants of those mystery craft that dart around the sky in startling ways far beyond the possibilities of our physical laws.
In short, this small sick planet is easy pickings for Whoever Or Whatever is Out There (WOWOT).
Even if they are peaceful, you know it’s going to end badly. Our stupid HUTA* politicians will make fearful knee-jerk decisions to scramble warplanes with orders to fire on command.
Obviously it will be a one-sided battle. This tiny blue dot in the vast black void will be turned into a cinder in no time flat.
As E.E. Cummings wrote: ‘Pity this busy monster, manunkind.’
*Heads up their ass
I figure the anal probe will be a fitting end to all this.