Monday, November 14, 2005

The Probe

The Probe

The Probe (2001)

Given the ongoing follies of BushCo, and Dear Leader's continued support by his 35% base who'd probably cheer him whatever he says or does, intelligent life on this planet is looking less likely. So, let's branch out and seek elsewhere. But how? Is scanning the skies in the hope of tuning in an alien talk radio host the most sensible search method? BBC News wonders if we can take the search directly to The Others:

There could be an alien spacecraft with a message for us lurking somewhere in our Solar System, say scientists writing in the journal Nature.

Until now, it was generally believed that the best way to find ET is to look for a radio signal from them as such signals can travel vast distances.

But an analysis by US researchers suggests that sending a probe into space would be more efficient.

A recent radio search of 800 stars showed no sign of a signal from ET.

[...]

Christopher Rose of Rutgers University and Gregory Wright of Antiope Associates, both in the US, present a new analysis of an old topic that may explain why the ET radio searches have been unsuccessful.

They argue that, in many circumstances, it makes more sense to send a space probe carrying a message to another star system, rather than a radio beam.

Unless the radio messages are short, they say, their "package strategy", is more efficient, requiring less energy per bit of information transmitted.

NASA's gone down a similar slippery trajectory before. It attached this picture message to the Pioneer interstellar probe:

Hey, Eve.  You dropped your apple...

Translation: We are here. Invade us. We lack defenses -- including clothing. Aim your superior weaponry directly at our exposed genitals.

Or perhaps you're pondering more invasive probes -- as in this (NY Times rather esoteric) plot description for South Park's premiere episode -- "Cartman Gets an Anal Probe":

After a thrilling game of "Kick the Baby," Kyle's adopted brother Ike is abducted by the same aliens who had visited Cartman the night before in order to insert a big metal hooba-jube into his rectum. The anal probe causes Cartman to expel flaming gas and eventually sprout an 80-foot satellite dish, which attracts the aliens. Kyle's barrage of obscenities prompts Ike's release, and the aliens present a gift to the beings of earth they have judged to be the most intelligent and wise (not humans, of course) before they leave.

Is that not the most erudite description imaginable for this:

Why is it that everything today has to do with things either going in or coming out of my ass?

I dreamed I was standing out in a field, and there was this huge satellite dish stickin' out of my butt. And there were hundreds of cows and aliens, and then I went up on the ship, and Scott Baio gave me pinkeye.

And why don't the aliens get bored with the same shtick-- which is what Kareem Harper of UGO.com wonders as he reviews Destroy All Humans:

After a while, you can only anal probe and destroy so many buildings before all the fun of laying waste to a planet diminishes.

As much as I enjoy the scene in Mars Attacks! when Congress gets ray gunned, I actually prefer our elected officials to work a little before being lasered. How about a probe on this guy

Well, I'm dressed for nuclear winter...

for torture, and this guy

Scooter? No -- never fell off one of those...

for lying? And if the Rethug-Controlled Everything won't authorize a congressional probe of the Bush Administration's heavy torturing and deep lying, then can the two crooks above at least receive a thorough Cartman-style anal probe?

And, for the sake of irony, how about using a chemical light stick as the suspect device? Maybe that will give them both a less, um, cheeky and more reality-based perspective on "enhanced interrogation techniques."

~/~

UPDATE:

I won't be blogging for a while due to RL situations, but I hope to be back slinging art and text soon.

In the meantime, please visit some the many fine blogs and sites to your right. There are many treasures waiting to be dug up in those links.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Attack of the Swirling Leaves

Blue leaves, red leaves
Ricochet like bullets
Across the parking lot.

Veined leaves, brown leaves
Raise a racket like steel
Drums from the Caribbean.

Branches of trees crack
And trap cars in their lots
Like twisted missiles from space.

Gutters clog, drainage backs up,
And wet, green lightning
Shrieks across the stained glass.

Blue leaves, red leaves
Confuse the congregation
Running through the fields.

Dr. Mike