A large anthology of sci.., p.842
A Large Anthology of Science Fiction, page 842
The crypto-anarchists grab some Jolt from the wet bar and troop out, so now it’s just me, Mom and Dad in the skybox. Dad points at the field with the stem of his pipe. “Those 27 folks down there,” he says. “They didn’t get any help from you, did they?”
I’ve lied about this successfully to Joe. But I know it won’t work with Mom and Dad. “Let’s put it this way,” I say, “not all panarchists are long-haired, Jolt-slurping maniacs. Some of them look like you—exactly like you, as a matter of fact.”
Dad nods; I’ve got him on that one.
“Codex and his people saved the contest, and our family, from disaster. But there was a quid pro quo.”
“Usually is,” Dad says.
“But it’s good for everyone. What Joe wants—and what his client wants—is for the promotion to go well, so that a year from now, everyone who’s watching this broadcast today will have a high opinion of the safety and stability of Simoleons. Right?”
“Right.”
“If you give the Simoleons away at random, you’re rolling the dice. But if you give them to people who are secretly panarchists—who have a vested interest in showing that E-money works—it’s a much safer bet.”
“Does the First Distributed Republic have a flag?” Mom asks, out of left field. I tell her these guys look like sewing enthusiasts. So, even before the second half starts, she’s sketched out a flag on the back of her program. “It’ll be very colorful,” she says. “Like a jar of jelly beans.”
ALIEN RADIO
Mike Resnick
Must I use this headphone unit? It appears my skull is ill-shaped for such a device. I can just speak into this? Very good. What does that mean? That red light? Oh, are we on? I can go ahead and speak, then? Excellent.
Hello, people of Earth, and good evening. As many of you already know, I have come to your world for the express purpose of studying your race, so that I may offer you the five basic truths of your existence.
But before I begin, I have been asked to deliver this commercial message for a new product called Heaven Scent. Heaven Scent is a liquid chemical bleach used in conjunction with your laundry soaps to whiten whites and brighten colors, and it can be purchased at your local supermarkets, where you will find an introductory rebate offer. The manufacturer claims that the bleach will cause cleaner, fresher-smelling fabrics, and will not be injurious to your garments. They will come out thirty-seven times brighter than the sun, and of course I couldn’t say this on the public airwaves if it were not the literal truth. Heaven Scent is the answer to the housewives’ and househusbands’ prayers. Whoopie.
End of commercial message, the funds of which have been donated to the Home for Terminally Morose Phlezms of Indeterminate Gender.
Now, let me begin by saying that you live in terror of your mortality, and while this is a realistic fear, it is also a universally repressed one for all members of your species. You carry on as if your deaths are avoidable, in some way, via your professional or family or religious associations, and therefore, although you can look at your deaths rationally, you cannot feel them. Your ultimate fear is repressed.
Although your race has for some reason deemed it necessary to deny yourselves this self-knowledge to proceed with your daily lives, I submit to you the first basic truth of your species: Lurking beneath all your abundant insecurities and depressive states and schizophrenias, is this fear of death that you cannot reconcile. The denial of the death-state is directly responsible for your vast numbers of oppressors and victims, and your wars and injustices against the sanctity of life.
I therefore offer you this solution to the first truth: If you can open your minds and peer into the darkest corners of your hidden neuroses—which every one of you have, without exception—and admit your helplessness in the face of real death, then you will not be such self-destructive animals, creating obscure reasons for your acts of cruelty against self and society, and you will not live in such utter terror of the world that your fear of death makes you unable to live your lives.
Ah, my engineer has indicated that we have our first caller. Hello.
Hello?
Hello. You are on the air.
Uh . . . yeah, I have a question for you.
Proceed.
Do you think you could do something about controlling your kids? I mean, we’re really glad to have you here visiting our planet and everything, you know, but—
My children? What have they done?
Well, they’ve kind of built their own little community center down here in our neighborhood—which is OK, you know, they need a comfortable place to hang out and all, but the thing is, they’re printing their own money, and that’s kind of got the local businesses upset, if you know what I mean.
I have told my children not to meddle in native affairs. If they are in some way harming your economy or threatening your sense of financial stability I shall banish them from the planet’s surface.
Well, I don’t want you to think we’re prejudiced. I mean, that would be a really bad rap to spread across the galaxy.
Fear not, I shall handle it. My engineer has indicated I have another caller. Farewell, kind person. Hello, you are on the air.
Yeah, I’m on, really? No!
Yes.
Cool! I just wanted to say that this used to be a great hemisphere until the Man started bringing it down.
The man? What man?
The Man. You know—like the uniforms, the military, the suits and ties, you know. The government. The Maaaaaaaan.
Hmm, no, I am afraid I do not know to what man you are referring, and I fail to see the relevancy of your comment in light of the basic truths of your species. So, farewell, kind person, and thank you for calling. Next caller please.
Hello, Pop? We’ve been listening to your show down here at the ACC—
The ACC?
The Alien Community Center. We just built it, and we thought one of us should give you a call and explain about the currency.
Yes, perhaps you should.
Well, we’re operating in complete conformity with the local government’s laws and barter articles, which do not prohibit the establishment of a community currency. Our dollars are of different sizes and designs from the existing tender, and we use our own special ink and a different texture of paper. We’ve established our own serial-number code and value structure that’s a little too complicated for the natives, but our actions are in no way conspiratorial, and developing a currency is something that any local community is free to do within their existing legal system.
Nevertheless, you are upsetting the natives, and I want it stopped immediately.
But, Pop—
No buts! Just do as I say. You are interfering with the message I am trying to deliver to these life forms. Now, I should like to continue with the second basic truth. Mr. Engineer, please disconnect that problem child so I may proceed. Thank you.
Ahem. The second truth deals with sexual relationships, a matter of utmost importance to your race. Other than the obvious physical differences between the male and female of your species, there is a basic psychological truth that both the male and female must accept in order to secure a happy and peaceful co-existence with his or her mate.
The female of your species demands to be loved for the person that she is. A good mate should want “her” and not just “her body.” She lives in utter terror that the sexual act will destroy her mate’s perception of her inner personality.
The truth your female species must accept is that the male does in fact want only her body, that he is attached to his animal role, a role that thousands of years of evolution cannot and will not and should not obliterate, for it is an essential ingredient in the procreative drive of your race. This is not to say the male is incapable of appreciating a female for who and what she is. I merely wish to point out that the sexual act carries a different meaning for him.
Likewise, the male must accept this truth about himself. Although the “sensitive, caring male” is much in demand in your current culture, and many males, contrary to their natures, are striving to attain this posture to answer the needs of the females and arouse their receptivity, the male should not be anchored in guilt or shame concerning his purely sexual tendencies, for it is the guilt that shrinks his male personality (and we all know what that leads to) and threatens to destroy the animal that he is, and indeed must be.
To reconcile the second truth, your species must practice what I call “regression intercourse.” You must allow each other to be reduced to nothing more than physical objects during the sexual act, to absolve yourselves of the mind and grasp your primal instincts, for the female is a sexual being as well, although much repressed. You must allow the love and attachment you have for each other to grow out of your natural animal aggressions. Your sex will be happier and healthier and less rooted in the machinations of the mind, and your roles outside the sexual arena should be enhanced as well, since you will not have the insecurities of sexual misinterpretations spilling over into the obligations of your social and professional lives.
Ah, I have been informed I have a caller on Line One. Hello. You are on the air.
I would love you to use my body like an animal. When can we get together?
I believe you have misconstrued the second truth.
Oh, yes, I want to misconstrue you desperately.
Please try not to understand me so fast. I fear that—
Don’t be afraid. I know exactly what I’m doing.
I am quite certain that you do, and I suggest you do so immediately, but with a member of your species. Next caller.
Eh, yeah, hi. First off I’d like to say welcome to our planet.
Thank you, kind person.
How do you like the weather here?
As a matter of fact, I can adapt to any kind of weather.
Wow, that’s really neat.
Did you have a question concerning the first or second truths of your species?
Well, actually, I was calling to complain about your kids.
My children?
Yeah. They’re selling cosmetics. Not that selling cosmetics is a bad thing in and of itself—don’t get me wrong, I mean I don’t want to offend you or anything—it’s just they’ve created their own company, and to be honest they can make a better product than we can—you might have guessed I’m in the cosmetics business myself, heh, heh, heh. Anyway, it’s not exactly fair competition since you aliens are a lot more intelligent than us, and you’ve been all over the galaxy—and that kind of free spirit, that daring to explore the universe attitude, well, it really sells in cosmetics because we’re youth-oriented, you know. Like, you can make yourself into the kind of person you want to be, or thought you once were, because who you are just won’t cut it. Anyway, your kids are taking over a good portion of the market.
I warned them not to interfere. Why won’t they listen?
Kids, you know, that’s just the way they are. I couldn’t imagine having, what?, eighty or ninety of them like you. I can barely handle two. No matter what I tell them they have to challenge me. My son, he’s into sports this, sports that. Do you think I could get him to read a book? My daughter is just as bad with her wild music. Dance, dance, dance, that’s all she cares about. I keep telling her, what would happen if you were in an accident and lost your legs, God forbid? What would you do with your life? But does she ever think about it? No, she just keeps dancing and saying acid rock is too tame and she’s waiting for them to invent base rock.
Fear not, I shall handle my children immediately.
Thanks, I’d appreciate it.
A call awaits me on Line Two. Farewell, good caller. Hello.
Yeah, I’d like to order a large pizza with pepperoni and mushrooms, two tossed salads with feta cheese and no dressing, and a small order of chicken wings.
I’m sorry, but I do believe you have dialed an inappropriate telephone number.
Last time you guys put dressing on the salads, so make sure this time you get it right, OK.
I am sorry to inform you—
OK, then, buffalo wings. Boy, you guys are stickers for terminology. And hold the horns, yuk, yuk.
No, no, please hang up your telephone device and dial again, thank you. Next caller, please.
Hello, Pop? We’ve been listening to your show down here at the ACC—
I am aware of that. Do you have an explanation for the cosmetics?
Well, we were a little bored, and we saw an opportunity to break into the cosmetics industry because, frankly, there’s plenty of room for everybody. I’m telling you, there’s no top to this market. These people are hungry for new products. We’ve developed our own line of body spray, perfume creme and lotion, talcum powder, cologne, shampoo and conditioner, we’ve got foundations, finishers, skin enhancers, eyeliners, glimmersticks, not to mention lip glosses and nail polishes in colors these people have never even seen, like yordishale2.2. Our customers love it! Our signature fragrance is selling out all over the planet. We call it Star Byte, and we’re gearing it toward professional females who dream of transcendence (as if there are any who don’t). We were thinking of branching out into accessories. Jewelry, for instance, and clothing.
Enough! Put an end to this nonsense immediately!
But, Pop—
You are trying my patience. One more incident and you shall all be confined to the ship for the duration of my stay. Do I make myself clear?
Aw, jeez, Pop . . .
Mr. Engineer, disconnect that problem child so that I may continue. Thank you.
It is now time for me to reveal the third great truth to your people. I call this the truth of self-imprisonment, and—Excuse me? What about it? Oh, I see.
Dear listeners, I have been asked to endorse yet another product. For those of you who appreciate the rich flavor of a strong beer, and the refreshing flavor of a light beer, Bestend Brewing Company would like to inform you of a new product called On-Tap. On-Tap Beer Tablets can offer you the best of both brews. You may purchase a bottle of one hundred of these tablets, fill a glass with tap water, drop in the tablets, and convert your water to beer, thus making the mixture as dark or as light as you wish. The manufacturers suggest you use no less than two tablets and no more than twelve tablets per average serving.
Now, if I may continue—Pardon? Oh, yes, I must thank them for sponsoring my telecast.
Back to vitally important business. The third basic truth of your species is the truth of self-imprisonment. You are all slaves to your particular cultures. The societal boundaries that you have established are fashioned to encourage failure, of all things. To become an accepted member of the fold, you must limit your thoughts and deeds to the status quo. As a result of this, you take your freedom of personality, your freedom of spirit, and stifle it. You crush your individuality. To further complicate this paradox, your enslavement into the group consciousness, your belittling social intercourses and daily routines, works as a shelter. You are safe as a social conformist, and this safety prevents you from reaching the core of your uniqueness.
In order to avoid this breakdown of individual personalities, you must develop a faith in the true self. You must be able to step outside of your boundaries with impunity, so that the despair of self-limitation does not obliterate the natural curiosity and creativity of your species.
Ah, I have a caller.
What are your political associations?
I have none.
Religious beliefs or preferences?
None.
Special interest groups?
No affiliations of any kind.
Have you ever used illegal drugs?
Absolutely not.
Have you ever been arrested for a misdemeanor or a felony?
Don’t be ridiculous. What is the purpose behind this line of questioning?
Have you ever cheated on an exam, or your income taxes, or lied to your spouse or significant other?
Definitely not.
Congratulations, you fall into the target market for our new underarm deodorant, called Squeaky Clean, and we would like you to sample our product free of charge for one month, at the end of which we will contact you for your comments and opinions. Would you like to participate?
I don’t have any arms!
Hmm . . . that might pose a problem.
Next caller!
Yeah, this is the military head of NATO calling, and we have a big problem with your kids. We just discovered they’ve been building and selling hi-tech long-range weaponry and advanced radar equipment to our enemies.
My children? I can’t believe they would do such a thing!
Listen, fella, we’ve got high-speed missles headed this way that are superior to our defense mechanisms! What are you going to do about it?
My engineer tells me one of my children is on Line Three. I’ll straighten this out posthaste.
Hi, Pop, you sound really good on radio. I think the show is coming along nicely.
Do you really think so?
Absolutely. You’re a natural.
No, you’re just saying that.
Honest! We all think so.
I find radio a comfortable medium, although a bit detached. I would have gone with television, but I was afraid my looks might frighten some of the populace. Now, what about these missles?
Just a crazy misunderstanding, Pop. You’ve got to believe me. Here’s the thing. Although there are international rules and regulations limiting arms sales on this planet, we discovered plenty of precedent for covert transactions. Naturally we assumed this was common practice. All the world leaders have taken part in below-board arms deals. So when we saw how archaic their weapons systems were down here—they haven’t even discovered simple quantum-wave explosives yet—we just thought we’d jump into the market. We didn’t mean any harm.
Well, maybe you didn’t intend to cause any harm, but you’ve certainly done so. I want your Alien Community Center shut down, and I want all of you to return to the ship.
