Earthlings, Arklings…Spacelings.

One day, the Aliens will arrive in a giant ark. It will be something similar to a ship made for the transport of live animals. Huge, steel, monolithic and grey.

A single representative will emerge, and float down to the waiting hoards of media on a floating platform, powered by light.

They will explain to us that over the past year of our earth time, they have carefully been studying earth’s population, and have decided to offer the trip of a lifetime to one group, but not the other.

One group will be made up of those one one side of history – those who support big business, vote for corrupt politicians, revel in profit, and ignore the needy.

The other group will be made up of the people who defend the environment, fight for human rights, and vote for parties which represent the people, not profits.

At this point, the invitation to board the Ark will be extended to those of the first group, and all will gladly accept, lured onwards by the promise of a trip to space. They will no doubt sneer at the second group, who will be left behind, with the task of cleaning up the planet.

The Aliens tell the first group that they will be treated like royalty on the Ark. They will be fed, housed, exercised, entertained, looked after medically, and ferried with open arms to far-flung corners of the galaxy, where they will be welcomed like kings.


They tell the rest of us, left here on earth, that we must use tools they provide to clean the oceans, care for the the environment, save the whales, and that we must study night and day the material they provide – countless texts containing eons of Alien knowledge, far advanced beyond our own.

It’s announced that those on the Ark will be provided with headphones, permanently attached. Virtual Reality goggles, also permanent. And access to a limited but extensive archive of all Earth’s greatest examples of entertainment, like Fox News and Kanye, as well as fully-immersive Alien television, allowing the Ark-lings to experience the joy of Alien life, without ever leaving their assigned pen.

The rest of us, left here on Earth, will be given nothing more than a receiver capable of picking up Alien signals, and will be left with our own Earth forms of entertainment, forced to endure the prospect of spending the remaining eons of time on Earth creating art, music, and other intellectual pursuits, while we live as one with nature, spending our time cleaning the rivers, knee deep in sludge, as hippo’s watch on, munching fresh water-grass.

The Ark-lings board the ship. The Earth-lings watch as the countless ramps retract, doors close, lights flash, soft hums grow to breathtaking roars, and the giant ship, containing one half of Earth’s population, rises God-like towards the stars, it’s new-found cargo held safely inside.

Minutes later, silence, as the ship fades like a comet into the sky, leaving behind nothing but mist where it stood for a few precious months, while arrangements were made.

And then, the new reality sets in. We Earthlings look around at our untidy planet, dotted with the structures of man, some friendly, some no more than eyes of pollution.

And then, joyously, we will get to work, cleaning the planet that’s been so thoroughly coated in pollution of all kinds.

We’ll sit around at night, read the new texts, learn about thoughts we never conceived of, and not think for a moment about how much we miss the things left behind, like cars, trucks, petrol and lies.

Those on the ship will wake-slumber their way through the galaxy, as they’re transported, dumb, like lambs to the slaughter.

And when they arrive at the shed, led one-by-one to their maker, only some will realise that they miss planet Earth. But by then, for them, it will be too late.


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