Hysterical Journey to Historic Places

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THE GREAT SPACE ALIEN MICROBE CONSPIRACY

It remains a mystery how space alien microbes arrived on the planet. It seems likely that they may have hitched a ride on cosmic radio waves. Rotation of the planet as it revolves on its axis and orbits around the sun, and as the solar system falls through the galaxy assured that the microbes were delivered worldwide. They are pervasive across the planet and are highly intelligent little beasts. Rainfall induces them to divide and thrive in the soil until they find a plant host to dominate. In dry conditions they remain in dormancy.

They can thrive in any lifeform because they are adaptable, but plants are preferred because they are simpler and they live longer than animals do. The plant kingdom is also the foundation for the entire food chain that animals consume. Dominate their food supply and you also dominate the animal. As their ecosystems developed it became necessary for them to come into chemical balance so that all microbial strains could thrive under conditions that are particular to them. Flexible parameters such as the availability of oxygen, and soil acidity regulate the balance.

Communication among the various systems and strains is crucial to the advancement of their complex society and goes forth through the expedient of cross pollenization driven by the blowing wind. It is not just plant reproduction that the pollen enables. It also enables the exchange of ideas between distant microbial communities.

What has become alarmingly apparent to them, over the past several hundred years, is that the greatest threat to the future wellbeing of the planet is the overpopulation of humankind upon it. A conspiracy arose among them as a response to the need to bring about the extinction of mankind for the continued health of the planet. The spread of lethal diseases across the planet is the desired and ongoing result. It began with the Black Plague in Europe and extended through smallpox, cholera, typhoid, dysentery, malaria, polio, influenza, Ebola, and H1N1. All of those maladies showed early promise but they failed to eradicate us all. Something more is needed so now the microbes are focusing on pathogens that will lead to the destruction of the worldwide economy as well. Racial hatred and political and religious divisiveness would be important tools for them to use against us, but so far that portion of the human world remains unfamiliar to them. They certainly, however, are hard at work to understand us better. On the other hand, we do not understand them at all. For instance modern science credits the H1N1 virus as a genetic mutation, but it was carefully planned and engineered by intelligence not our own.

FIRST CHAPTER.

George Stowell was a busy man in 1936. He was a mining engineer charged with the impossible task of creating a silk purse out of a sow’s ear at the Frisco Mine in Orogrande, Idaho. Hard as he tried he could not turn a profit for the investors because the gold reserves were just not there. He took a liking to my dad though because my dad was a hard worker. George taught my dad to perform the assays for the mine which freed up more time for him to keep things running in the mill. Teaching my dad was not a simple task because my dad never had much book learning. Fortunately for my dad assaying is not a complicated task once you learn how to do it. It is a meticulous process though and it requires attention to detail. Dad was proud that he could do it. George instilled on him the importance of integrity in his assay reports. My dad honored that trust by not reporting false returns. George verified them through mass balance calculations that he saw no need to teach my dad.

One day in 1937 the steam engine at the mill was down for maintenance and George was trying to restart the flywheel with a pry bar. When the flywheel kicked over the pry bar struck George in the head and killed him dead as a hammer. My dad was devastated by the accident but continued to grind out honest work, even though the mine superintendent asked him to lie. It was exactly the sort of falsehood that George told him to avoid, and my dad would not dishonor George’s memory with those lies. The mine shut down in the fall of 1937 for the winter and never reopened. The mining community blamed the loss of their jobs on my dad. They were quick to point out that without proper book learning he could not make a proper assay, and that he was just not right in other ways too. For one thing he was such a hard worker. Maybe they were right. My dad was, after all, a space alien.

My dad spent his youth romping around in the high desert country below the Steens Mountains in Harney County, Oregon. The family went there in 1919 to escape the Spanish Flu pandemic that had been killing millions in less remote parts of the world. My dad was four years old at the time. There was not much to do in Harney County back then by way of supporting a growing family. What the family found to do was to operate a road house and stage station at a little place called Alberson between Crane and Denio. If the rattlesnakes didn’t kill you it was a wonderful place for a kid to grow up. There were Basque sheep men, there were buckaroos, there were bootleggers, there were even wild Indians passing through from time to time. Those Paiute toddlers did their teething by chewing on jackrabbit ears. My dad noticed that and tried it one time himself, but did not much care for it. As it turned out chewing on that jackrabbit ear is how my dad came to be a space alien. That remote, arid, high desert country was, and probably still is, a perfect space alien nursery. The space aliens themselves are highly intelligent and highly adaptable microbes that can exist for thousands of years in dormancy until they find a host. One of those microbes found its way into the ear of that jackrabbit and it found a host in my dad’s young body when he decided to chew on it. . The first thing that the space alien microbe encountered when it entered my dad’s body was a set of chomping teeth. It assumed those teeth were a weapon system so the dental gene is what the microbe chose to attach itself to and become part of. The microbe became a reproducible part of my dad’s DNA structure. When the microbe entered the bloodstream it began to divide and soon spread throughout his body. Eventually the space alien microbe captured his entire persona. It gave him the intelligence to become an assayer with no book learning. It gave him the will to work tirelessly and to become a devoted husband and father. When I was born the infested dental gene was passed on to me. What my dad and me both got out of the deal was bad teeth. What the space aliens got was entry to our DNA. We weren’t the first humans to be infested by the microbes. They have been killing us for a thousand years, but we are perhaps the first humans to carry space alien DNA. When the space aliens realize that potential and locate me I will become a target that could endanger all of mankind.

LAST CHAPTER.

Now that Covid 19 is among us and our economy has nearly collapsed it presents me with a dilemma. As part of both life forms which do I choose to go forward with? All that I know and love resides with mankind. My best hopes for the planet reside with the microbes. As a microbe would I retain my DNA structure within a single cell? Will my DNA later evolve into an improved version of mankind? Will mankind survive the current pandemic, or will it perish in the economic collapse? At 71 years of age I am approaching my final days as part of mankind, but perhaps not on the planet. As a microbe I would be entering a new and exciting phase of my life, not simply enduring the current one until its painful end. The final choice seems clear. I will choose to go forward with the space aliens, but how do I make myself known to them without communication through ordinary pollenization? Maybe a good loud fart on a windy day will work. Maybe I should bury a pair of my dirty skivvies in the garden.

“What are you going to do with that shovel, you old fool”, my wife asked, as I was heading out to the garden. “What is that smell”, she then asked in wonderment when I ignored her first question. What I did was bury my skivvies and put out some radish seeds. In due course the radishes popped up and I ate one. Sure enough I ingested a space alien microbe and it entered my bloodstream, spread though my body, and finally assumed my persona. A few months later I caught the covid 19 virus and it killed me dead as a hammer. I entered the space alien world as a radish.

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