Your superior intelligence will be your downfall
Not long ago (a month, I think) I woke up on a fine sunday morning (not like the one described by Gwen Stefani) and I asked myself “What would happen if aliens decided to invade the Earth”?
It’s a recurrent thought of mine, but then again, I don’t have a girlfriend, so I still use my brain for MY random rants.
ANYWAYS, I was there, just chillaxin’ with a java mocha coffee and a couple of flu pills when it hit me: we shouldn’t worry. Yes, they might be lizards out to eat us or idiots that leave some artefacts that make us squabble in the Russian tundra, but, we are safe.
Not only is the world safe from superior beings in flashy costumes but we also have been told how to fight them. Why are we safe? Jammy Dodgers! Who told us how to fight them? The BBC, of course. Sure, not only has the BBC purveyed us with great programming like that ‘The Pre-Raphaelites’ thing or ‘Top Gear’ (BBC’s premier sitcom), but they also showed us that aliens are probably as dumb as humans.
The more you evolve, the stupider you get.
You see, I think I discovered that day why BBC science fiction, specifically Doctor Who, has bumbling aliens: it’s luddite propaganda.
Don’t believe me? Think about it: the better technology is, the faster we accomplish things. So we become complacent. Since cooking with a microwave (or ready made dinners) are just a few buttons away, why bother spending 2 hours to do something you’ll finish in 10 minutes? If typing used to take hours to get right, why not do it on a word processor, where you can even copy paste stuff and delete what you don’t want?
So, yes, technology can makes us pretty lazy and the BBC will stop AT NOTHING to have us learn this lesson. And yes, I learnt it: since there’s quite more idle time, we can just go gallivanting around and indulge into our depressing addictions. There are oh, so many ways you can waste time in today’s world and if we had the technology any invading aliens had, we’d probably be dead.
Ah, now I’m back to my point in the rant. You see, I’ve been playing the BBC’s Doctor Who games (review up tomorrow) and I realised that Daleks and Cybermen are no match to Earth’s resources. Sure, they might have advanced weapons that’ll turn you into cigarette ash but that very self-confidence and cockyness (paired with a few nasty habits) is their downfall. You have NO weapons in the game and you still defeat two superadvanced races with a screwdriver and a nice looking scottish lass. And not a fez on sight.
It’s their sense of superiority on their technology which eventually leads to their demise. They all are vanquished by their own technological resources and, maybe, just maybe, it’s a small-print type lesson that the lovely people at the BBC want us to get: don’t be too complacent and rely on your technology too much or ye shall perish.
This thought re-assured me on that Sunday (now it was an afternoon) and I was ready to have my tea, when…. FIDDLESTICKS! A Dalek came into my room! And then, a Cyberman crashed through a wall! With a bottle of Cerveza Superior! And then… a plastic David Tennant (gurn and all) came by!
This is what happened:
Phew, that was close. I chucked them out into the mini-cab. The plastic Hammond Tennant was easier, I just told him that Rose was waiting for him with a bottle of White Lightning. Easy does it.
Now, as a public service announcement from all at Sloucher, here’s some sure fire ways to make an alien quit its intentions of slaving humanity:
1) Bamboozle it’s brain with stuff like emotions and feelings. Be sure to put extra-sugary music (bonus points if it’s by Hans Zimmer or the BBC’s equivalent, Murray “Mr. Mush” Gold).
2) Appeal to universal fraternity. Might not work if on a Tim Burton film.
3) Discover that some rickety ol’ virus of yours is lethal to them. WARNING: one of their virus might be lethal to us. This might not work without being a pyrrhic victory.
4) Wait for the president of the USA to deal with it. Specially if it’s near one of their holidays or if the guy looks like Bill Pullman.
5) Get a Liverpudlian madman with a penchant for Jelly Babies. If unavailable (or at the pub with a case of gin), a guy with no eyebrows and a redheaded lass from Scotland. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT get a peroxide blond chav from a council state in London. Unless you want to bore the aliens to death.
6) If you are in the Los Angeles area, get Emilio Estevez and Harry Dean Stanton. They work all night, every night!
7) Subject them to an 8 hour marathon session of Top Gear. Or let The Stig deal with them.
8) Make a superduper cool weapon that kills them all. Which is as probable as cockroaches developing a weapon that can kill all humanity.
9) Invent a device that will sabotage their propulsion systems. Make sure Ray Harryhausen has no access to miniature models that day.
10) Take a picture of Richard Hammond’s teeth and somehow broadcast that into ALL monitors of the aliens. They’ll think they are approaching the sun (oooh, shiny!) and they’ll change route.
11) If all else fails… Jammy dodgers, baby, jammy dodgers. And a fez. Fezes are cool…
About the author: Yes, I’m a geek.