Twenty-first century language is initially difficult to comprehend: global warming apparently means everywhere is cold and wet. Early spring salads are replaced by comforting roast dinners and we purchase life-sustaining vegetables from the Tesco overlords. Two parsnips speed their way along the conveyor belt to be met by Roswell alien recruited on minimum wage.
What are these, she asks?
Parsnips
Really?
Yes. Do you not eat parsnips on your planet?
Yes, but they are placed on my plate in chunks and strips. Next to the potatoes.
How do you think they got like that?
I think the mother alien must have cut them up. I didn’t know they looked like that.
Three courgettes arrive.
What are these? She searches for a corresponding picture on her computer.
Courgettes. Do you not eat courgettes on your planet?
No.
Captain’s Log: Star Date 7.5.12
Travelled to B & Q satellite station to purchase aesthetic plant life for large glass container which has been discovered in field where indigenous people sell rubbish from their vehicles. We seek advice from especially trained super-alien who has been granted ‘garden expert’ status according to his medal of office.
Greetings stranger. Please advise me on appropriate contents for my terrarium.
Pardon?
What plants can I put in my terrarium?
What’s a terrarium?
A large glass container
Oh. You mean a cloche.
No. I don’t mean a cloche
Can you describe it?
We wave our arms and offer a range of descriptions.
Oh. You mean a bottle.
Not really.
And you grow plants in these bottles on your planet?
Captain’s Log: Star Date 11.5.12
Global warming has worsened. The rain has stopped but Earth’s sun is dying and gives no heat. Our garments are too thin and we must purchase outer-wear which will match our uniforms. We travel to the place where the poorest people reside: they call it Asda.
Excuse me younger female of unknown species. Do you have any navy blue cardigans?
Judging by facial expressions, attendant appears horrified. She turns to cloned colleague in alarm.
Do we have any navy blue cardigans?
The aliens exchange strange body language and raise their eyebrows in enviable synchronicity. Alien number two, however, has successfully interpreted one of my words and leads me to a blue garment. It is neither navy, nor a cardigan.
It’s not really navy blue
What is navy blue?
Well, this is what we call royal blue on my planet
This is all we have here.
It’s very small
We are a race of stick insects
It’s not really a cardigan either is it?
We don’t have cardigans at this time of year
Where do you keep the wine please?
Your reporting of world news is brilliant.
ReplyDeleteWe know you are not exaggerating because we are in hiding at our house, frightened by misinformation from the weather aliens.
The day a national drought was proclaimed six weeks ago, the rains came - and every day thereafter.
Two days ago the weather aliens proclaimed the drought was over, since when we have had glorious sunshine.
The sports aliens are forecasting Chelsea will win the European Cup next week. Has anyone bucked up courage to tell Abramovich