A probing question
Vox and Nate deal with a sticky wicket today.
Alien intervention in human affairs. No, not like the puppeteers in
Larry Niven's Known Space stories, but like the worst in online websites on abductions.
Now, I have my OWN take on alien/Terran social intercourse.
They are scared of us, well and truly terrified.
The Ascended Alien Masters, Gidney and Cloyd, who speak to me telepathically in the voices of Phil Silvers and Arnold Stang, have informed me of this. Here's the skinny:
In all the cosmos, the image of the clown has an accepted meaning. Doesn't matter where you go in the universe, it's all the same. The Clown's phiz signifies one thing only.
Ultimate Evil Incarnate.
No horns and pitchforks, no squid faces; the image of whiteface, fright wig, painted smile, and A Single Tear will send the most stalwart Pleiadian diving under the covers of his mercury bed. We're talkin' serious scared, here. Pinhead's a wuss. BOZO reruns propagating through the aether at lightspeed, that'll set the heart crosswise in ye, if you are from Omicron Persei 8. Everywhere, everywhere, parental units and crechemasters all warn "Emmett Kelly will get you if you don't watch out!".
Everywhere, that is, but on Earth.
We put clowns on the walls of our nurseries and daycares. Our babies have clowns on their jammies. Have you checked your pediatrician's waiting room walls?
We raise our children under the image of a Cosmic Satan, and WE think it's all good fun.
I wouldn't want to visit us, either. Unless I was a psycho, or a wormbaby with something to prove.
"You cut donuts in the rings of Saturn? HAH! -snaps tentacle- I probed an Earthling in Pascagoula!"
"You didn't...GET OUT!"
"I did so, just ask Klarven...he was there!"
Earth just gets the crazies and delinquents. Serves us right.