Perhaps that was an out-of-proportion hope.
A friend sent me an article yesterday about a drunk man who claimed to be a time traveler from the year 2048, shifted back to warn us about an impending alien invasion. As a writer, I’m skeptical.
He claimed the aliens sent him here, but if the aliens are so awful that he needed to come warn us, why would they send him back to warn them about…them? Terrible plotting.
Then again, his blood alcohol level was sky-high so maybe the whole writing-while-intoxicated thing is a myth borne of very very discreet editors.
Frankly, the article left me with the well-worn more questions than answers. Apparently he asked for the “president of the town.” If our governmental structure has broken down that much by 2048, isn’t that the story?
Ugh. And we’re back to now.
So here’s hoping for an alien invasion? Here’s not hoping for an alien invasion? Here’s indifference to an alien invasion?
I have to admit my curiosity about other life forms from the far-reaches of the universe and the science they use to travel perhaps unwisely outweighs my fear of them.
But at the end of a week like this week, I prefer the possibilities of the absurd to the realities of the absurd.
For more on my thoughts about Charlottesville and rising bigotry, please read An Open Letter to My Friends of Color.
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