Whim central

On a whim downloaded "Stagecoach." You guys did better work when your media were black and white. You worked more in composition and mood. You have too many toys now. You don't even have three months left, but if you're doing anything low-budget, go back.

Close call

I was set to rebut accusations that we might have been involved in the California earthquake, but then we found a small leak in the artificial gravity generator. If we had been in low orbit at the time, the San Andreas Fault might be an estuary today.

Attention, Ottawa

My superiors may be about to shut down this blog because they don't know how to reach humans, and this blog proves it. But someone in Ottawa continues to check in more than anyone else. We appreciate the attention, though we despair that humans really don't care. We'll (probably not me personally, but your blood is exciting, so I can't swear) take it out of your hides. And no, that's not a euphamism.

Ah, hell

This sucks. Ted Stevens is a good guy, alien-wise. You could hardly ask for a better landing spot than almost anyplace in Alaska, and he was always there to bullshit the locals on odd goings-on. You would not be such easy invasion-bait without him. Really, the bribing is among the most blatant in the galaxy. Man. At least there's less than 90 days to our takeover and shipping you off to the mines. Otherwise, we'd be having internal meetings and such and this would be important, time-diverting stuff.

You're so screwed

Your governments are at least as inefficient as ours. We take no pleasure in this. It's a bit depressing, really. We hope that new species will be better in some way, but we're constantly disappointed. You all suck as much as we do. For instance, the above map shows water vapor all over the world. Does it look radically different than you would have drawn on your own? Fast answer: No. It's a shitty map. If we're supposed to convince you that we are advanced and you need to listen to what we say, this is exactly what we need to avoid.

Best burial plot ever (my dad said)

My dad never shared my love of stark landscapes and high cliffs. He preferred open planes and grass. So he loved Stonehenge, which with its little monument looked a bit (probably not coincidentally) like the family burial plot back home. Anyway, he asked that if he died during the Earth expedition for us to spread his ashes here, so we did. It was a busy time, so I think some humans probably got a better than healthy huff of him. If you grow an extra hand, it's his.

Well, duh

Of course Robert Novak has a brain tumor. It's a common side effect of the implant we've been using. You didn't think he was that big a prick on his own, did you?

8/4 UPDATE: Sorry, Bob. Might've helped if you held a charitable thought in your head, stroked a puppy, didn't run over a bicyclist, stuff like that. It affects the neuropeptides, which affects the brain tissue's interaction with the implant. I guess we should have mentioned that.

The truth about Area 51

Stop asking. It's a tourist gimmick. We have never been there, and neither has any other alien race.

No harm, no foul

We know Edgar Mitchell. Good guy. We'll go easy on him. He's right, but everyone will think he's crazy. Until Oct. 26.

Funny story

One of the early expeditionary trips to this solar system had a mishap -- some would call it a DUI, but no one ever proved that. It happened to coincide with your Galileo probe passing by and snapping some photos. You guys called it a "volcanic plume." More like, "Drunk-off-his-ass Steev plunges his ship into an ice planet." That pilot has never lived it down. The photo shows up at almost every party.

Why salt mines?

Good question. We have an unusual craving for salt. We're kind of anti-slugs. Our own world has very little salt. Maybe that's related. I'm not a biologist, and I don't care to ask one. (They're very smug.) Whatever the reason, wherever we encounter a world rich in salt, we set up a mine, and then we send in slaves, like you.

You'll be happier

You guys stress too much. You'll be much better off in the mines, where you can see your kids and be assured how miserable they are, rather than wondering at a distance what misery they are enduring.

Try opening your eyes next time, fly boy

Stinking Qantas pilot thinks that just because he's 29,000 feet up he doesn't have to look where he's going. Guess what? You're not alone up there! We can fly millions of miles without a scratch, then some drowsy prick in a jumbo jet dings the roof. He better hope we don't get his name.

In a hundred years or so

Every time we take over a planet, I pass a place where I think I want to live when I retire. This is Mars again. Love the views, and it never rains.

Say cheese

Your self-surveillance so often comes in handy. I lacked a camera of my own passing by, but I noticed the Deep Impact spacecraft, and that thing is always clicking away. The resolution kind of sucks, at least on what the U.S. government allows to be presented to the public, but it's a nice sequence.

Smart and stupid are same to worms

Many, perhaps most, humans like to believe in meritocracy. I like the idea myself. Those most able really should be rewarded and put in place to perform to their abilities. Alas, I must tell you this happens nowhere in the universe, and Earth is perhaps among the lower tier in applying the principal, at least among planets that have achieved, at some level, space flight. All achievement is politics, which is nothing more than interpersonal relations. In all species, those who make others happy and content are regarded as more worthy of admiration. The chances are that if you are reading this blog, according to all sources I have seen, this is bad news to you. Sorry. You also will be on the lower tier in the pecking order of the mines. Sorry again. It makes me no more happy than it makes you. It does, however, make me less sad, because I will not be in the mines.

A little education is dangerous ...

... but a lot of education is lethal. While home recently, I let the mate convince me to go to a group discussion of Steev literature and adaptations of it, which is more complex than it sounds since most of our communication is telepathic. Literature, then, takes no time at all to consume, but adapting it is multidimensional. Our institutions of higher learning no longer grant degrees in its study because the field of deconstructing and explaining it had advanced to the point that students began to collapse into black holes. Perhaps because of this, however, that danger has made such classes, offered in non-academic settings, quite popular, somewhat like your erotic asphyxiation. The discussion I attended began to veer toward black-hole status as several in the group spent 20 minutes debating the permutations of the thought-word-form "self-evident." Perhaps because of my exposure to engineers, I felt the warps in space-time developing, so to create a distration I peed the floor and released a rodent.

Plans are for suckers

At times I, a planner in a vast interstellar organization, am chastised for my unwillingness to make long-term plans for myself. When I travel, I prefer serendipitous encounters and random-chance finds. A perfect example why: While on the home world and out on a long-planned meal get-together with my mate and an old friend of hers/his, we learned another old friend's mate had died. Instantly all of our plans were out the window and the entire day shifted from refreshment and reattachment to grieving and support. On Oct. 27, all of you will have fresh examples of why planning is for fools. Live for today. Make plans, but not hard and firm ones. Soon, you'll be in the mines. Plan accordingly.

Desperately seeking Sarah

On my way back to Earth I'm catching up on the news. I see Sarah Silverman finally dumped Jimmy Kimmel. Jimmy was the one thing preventing sentient fans from considering her to be a genius. Even we Steev recognized what a dork he is -- in fact, our guide to Earth slang has his picture. We had no word like "dork" before, but it comes in quite handy. Of course, as I've said before we almost never speak, but the mental thought/image of "dork" is quite potent. This may be humankind's single greatest contribution to the galaxy. Congratulations.

Now Sarah has a little more than three months to find out what life without a live-in doofus is like (we had that "doofus" concept already). Sorry, Sarah, we'd like to give you more time. It's not personal, just business. Tell us some good jokes -- especially about Jimmy -- and we'll probably go easy on you.

Home, sweet home

Being recalled to the home world is like what you call vacation. We have no vacation, but there is little of our work on Earth that can be done from here, so when not being briefed or instructed, our time is our own. It's maddening. My mate has lavished attention on me. I spent too much time in the suns, so my skin is dry and the slime brownish. Soon I'll start flaking dry bits. Luckily we erected a rock pole outside for just such an occasion. We'll have some well-fed insects.

'Your kind made a desert of it'

Perhaps years from now we may bring a few of you back to Earth to see what eventually became of the planet after the climate change you initiated finally petered out. It would be an interesting sociological/psychological experiment. We could bring Bush himself, assuming he survives the mega-probing that he has coming. You'll hardly recognize the place. You may even be grateful for the mines. But probably not.

Goddam Google

I had composed a lengthy post about my trip home and the purple seas, green sky, orange beaches, bloated gas bags, etc. etc., and the friggin' Blogger software hiccuped. I hate Google. They are going to be toiling on friggin' SURFACE operations, the shitheads.

Staycations

We have no vacations. We have a different concept of liesure. I, for instance, enjoy interrogation, so when I need time off I take over for the interrogators, who hate their job. They then may go to the mines to whip slaves, or come to Earth to fill in for vacationing bureaucrats like myself. It's all diversion. Anything different than what we do all the time is a change. It's mental stimulus. That's all that counts. Your own obsessive need to escape will ill suit your future.

Stinkin' Jared

Could be another reason no one finds the blog here is you can't find it on technorati. Even a search for "alienoverlords" takes you to a been-abandoned-for-two-years blog by some slacker named Jared. Asshole.

A voice in the wilderness

At this rate, very few humans will be emotionally prepared for our takeover of your planet come October. The problem with using a blog to spread the word is blogs become popular by word of mouth, and we Steev do not use our mouths for speech. We communicate mostly by telepathy, which is faster. It also enforces a steely mental discipline because when you have a naughty thought about a co-worker, he/she instantly knows and either he/she mentally slaps you or else confirms similar feelings and you slip off to have sex, and in either case your mate instantly knows about your thought and your co-worker's reaction and then you're in for hell when you get home. Anyway, if the blog doesn't pick up traction we are developing a concept for a short-run reality series, "Your New Life As An Alien Slave," for Fox.

I'm gonna miss you guys

I just learned today that your latest robot probe on Mars has its own Twitter feed. This is adorable. Clearly it's really a human in Melbourne, Fla., or Houston or something answering questions, but it's an absolutely stunning example of your species' ability to feign ignorance of reality for the sake of having fun. Really, we admire it. Meanwhile, you have less than four months to prepare whatever fairy tales you'll tell yourselves while in the mines.

Faith and devotion

This is what happens when beings are young and energetic and stupid. You grow out of the first two.

God and sinners

If you are a U.S. resident and believe in God -- and a recent survey indicates almost all of you do -- your God has a vicious sense of humor. For Jesse Helms to die on July 4? The same day as John Adams? Thomas Jefferson? Barry White? It's simply f***ing perverse. God must hate America to mock it so.

Back to the mating

Another photo from Mars. THIS is going to get him/her hot and bothered just looking at it. We'll have sex for a week, at least. I'll take an IV.

Hey, I know this guy

That's Skxkktvbly! I haven't learned to read Indian yet (how many freaking languages does one world need?!), so I have no idea what he's doing here.

Nice place to visit

First visit to Mars today for R&R. Very nice. I have to take the mate there once I get all of you shoved off to the salt mines.

Human failings

The Blogger/Google people still can't reconcile my account status; my gmail is not recognized under any circumstances until I log in under my Yahoo e-mail. I will not bother having anyone from Google sent to the mines. All will be processed for food. "Soylent Green is Google! It's Google!"

Why the subterfuge

Been a while since we had a question. Here's one: Why have we infiltrated rather than simply conquered? Why wait? Good question, simple answer: This is cheaper. The size army needed to take over a whole planet and enslave more than 6 billion people is cost-prohibitive, so instead we disguise ourselves, infiltrate your power structure and degrade your ability to resist us when the time comes, focusing chiefly on the major military threats we might face. What might look like a series of poor decisions or strategic errors by your leaders actually is a plan. So far, it's working pretty well.

This is news?

"Earth emits an ear-piercing series of chirps and whistles" that sounds "awful." We know. Have a listen. Earth is the bad neighbor with the stereo up loud and all the windows open at midnight. We need earplugs just to approach the planet. Pretty lights, though.

You sick ...

Just on a whim, in a fit of boredom, I Googled "alien porn." (Hey, it can be lonely on an alien world, plotting its takeover and the enslavement of the natives. It's all work.) It's truly astounding. "Some chick gets raped by an plant like alien ion her garden. It has several tentacles with dicks attached"!! Going from watching this kind of stuff to the tedium in the salt mines, you won't know which way is up.