SemiConscious Dot Org

I always knew those damn Old Europeans weren’t serious about fighting the War On Terror. Not only are they set to land a space probe on the Saturn moon Titan tomorrow, alerting any resident Titanites (Titanians?) to our presence, but the probe will also include a cd containing rock music:

The European Space Agency asked French musicians Julien Civange and Louis Haeri to write the music to raise awareness of space travel amongst youngsters.

Civange, who has worked with the Rolling Stones and David Bowie, said: “The European Space Agency wanted to add artistic content to the mission, to leave some trace of humanity in the unknown and send a sign to any possible extra-terrestrial populations.”

Let’s just digest that, shall we? The first impression of mankind these probably-hostile aliens will receive is music composed by a Frenchman. Jumping Jesus on a pogo stick! Did we include a white flag in the capsule too? We might as well have sent a note saying “Ooh, please come invade our planet and vaporize the White House with your massive space laser and grind up the human race as a cheap source of fiber supplement, Mr. Titan Men!”

At first I was flabberghasted to learn that the Euro-Wimp probe piggybacked on an American rocket. How could Donald Rumsfeld have been party to such a tragic show of weakness? Of course, when I found out that the Cassini rocket was actually launched way back in 1997, during the heyday of that Titan-terrorist coddler Clinton, it all made sense.

And don’t think that Jeff Goldblum will save us this time, either. That “Upload a virus off a laptop computer that magically causes a Moon-sized alien spaceship to spontaneously explode” trick only works once, folks. It’s like running a Flea-Flicker or Hook And Lateral play in football. You can get away with it once per season, at most. And since Saturn takes 29.5 years to orbit the sun, you know those aliens are working on a much longer season than we are.

Now, I know what you’re saying: “Sure, Titan has an atmosphere, and astronomers have predicted that it may have oceans of liquid methane. But it’s 294 degrees below zero! How could there possibly be life?” To which I reply: Well, people live in Texas, don’t they?*

Well, children, I’m taking no chances. It will be at least two or three years before the United States possesses a nuclear missile capable of hitting Saturn, and another seven years after that for the rocket to travel there and wipe out the evil Titan-creatures. Meanwhile, with their advanced alien technology, they can be here in a matter of days.

So I’m bugging out. Tomorrow evening, I’m boarding a super-secret commercial airline flight, and heading down to Father Loquacious High Finger’s fortified compound in lovely Santa Rosa, California. There, with our massive stockpiles of canned food and shotgun shells, we can hold out for as long as it takes.** Those little green moon men will pry the shotgun from my cold, dead, fingers!

* Or at least until I have to be back at work on Tuesday.