The Skeeter Daddle Diaries

Sometimes, when you think you might be the only person who can save the world, you have to commit acts that you know are wrong. The surf instructor who murdered his two kids with a spear gun and left them in a ditch told police that he knew killing them was wrong, but … the fate of the world was in his hands. The kids, he had learned through visions and dreams, were going to grow into monsters that would threaten life on this planet because they had serpent DNA.

I don’t know. Maybe they did. The Lizard People, as you must have heard, are among us. Alien beings infesting our gene pool. I suppose our surf instructor might have tried one of those DNA testing sites, see if maybe the serpent DNA was really mostly Balkan or Southern Mediterranean. A buddy of mine has 1% Neanderthal. If they can detect Neanderthal DNA, for sure they could find lizard DNA. Course, the surf dude was pretty certain his kids had serpent DNA without any damn test, which, at least for me, raises the question, where did they get it? Mom sleeping with alien invaders? Or … and this is the most troubling, did they get it from him??? (Cue the creepy soundtrack.)

Qanon believers are multiplying faster than lizard genes in the Land of the No Longer Free and it might be time we thought about banning spear guns before mass spear gun killings become commonplace. These are weird times, definitely, what with Covid, bat viruses unleashed on the world, climate change, self-driving vehicles and rockets buzzing overhead with billionaire passengers. The idea that Democrats are keeping children for their sexual and culinary appetites isn’t so far-fetched in these times. Lizard People living among us? Sure, why not. They’re probably the monsters who want to vaccinate an acquiescent population, pump their DNA into the veins of the unsuspecting, then take control of the earth. Spear guns don’t kill, Lizard People kill.
Don’t wear a mask, don’t get inoculated, don’t worry, be happy. The surfers of the world may unite and save us despite ourselves. And whatever you do, do not, I repeat, do not get one of those DNA tests. Just gonna ruin your day.

Hits: 86

Hits: 25

Lately there’s been some internet buzz rejecting the strategy of NASA to hurl signals into outer space, maybe make contact with some advanced species beyond our solar system. Decades ago we launched a craft full of a time capsule’s worth of stuff, everything from da Vinci sketches to Chuck Berry singing Johnny B. Goode, figuring, I guess that if the data dump of scientific memorabilia didn’t attract extraterrestrial tourists, the rock n roll might do the trick. Swell, it’s a little like the Wampanoag tribe sending out flyers to would be Pilgrims to come visit. Oh, and bring some of those smallpox blankets to trade, why don’tcha?

Maybe it’s the congressional investigations into UFO’s the past few months that got folks thinking about space visitors. That, or the Qanon folks suspect the Lizard People running the government are actually Chuck Berry aficionados. Either way, some of us terrestrials are rethinking the idea that visitors from outer space might really enjoy Disneyland and our reality TV shows. They might not agree with our humanoid tastes in art and entertainment, but they might really enjoy our taste. Barbecued homo sapien, mmm mmm, finger lickin’ good. The thought has occurred to a few folks that any alien capable of navigating across the galaxies might be far more advanced than the citizens of Earth who think landing on Mars was pretty special and who still can’t figure out what to do with spent nuclear fuel rods. I seriously doubt any galactic immigrants will bow down to the folks who binge watch the Kardashians.

The assumption must be, these people who look forward to First Contact, that an advanced alien species would naturally be not only intelligent but kind and even caring. Maybe bring us the recipes for happiness and time travel. Oh sure, we’d have to be super careful about space bugs and viruses and who knows what else we’d have no immunity for, but the good visitors would help us with that. Right? And no, don’t get going on Covid being some virus developed in a lab on Pluto, bad enough we got conspiracies about Wuhan vs wet meat markets, last thing we need is a trans-species mutation, forget about vaccines.

No, maybe we should just put a sign up, out by the moon maybe, that reads No Trespassing, This Means You! Let them know we’re not inviting anybody to our Thanksgiving Dinner. The last thing we need are some interstellar Pilgrims singing hymns, not Johnny B Goode. Go ask the Wampanoags how that worked out.

Hits: 23