Dear Aliens

Dear Aliens (or intelligent alien life forms, if you prefer),

I know you’re out there.  The vast number of planets in the universe, and the abundance and seemingly broad distribution of those elements necessary for life make it a virtual certainty that you, large numbers of species of you, exist.

This is addressed to you, or someone like you

The universe is a large place, however, and it is entirely  possible that our existence has escaped your notice up until now.  If, however, you are reading this, it has not.

So, this letter is written under the assumption that you are already visiting earth, and that you give a shit what we think.  Perhaps you don’t.  If you are here, then you are light  years ahead of us technologically, in more than just a metaphorical sense.  You have crossed light years.  No member of our species has ever even set foot on the other worlds in our own solar system.  We’ve sent a few robots, but the furthest we’ve gotten ourselves is our own moon.  You may well view us in the same sense that we view ants, or bacteria.

I’m writing under the assumption that you don’t, because you are reading this.  I guess I’m making a lot of assumptions.  That’s O.K., I figure somebody has to write to you, to let you know a few things about us.

Not everybody would agree with me.  One of the smartest individuals of our species, a scientist named Stephen Hawking, thinks we shouldn’t  be trying to make contact with aliens because, being light years more advanced than us technologically, you could wipe us out like an undesirable virus or destroy our planet to create a hyperspace bypass (that was a reference to a humorous work of speculation on the nature of the universe by a human writer named Douglas Adams.  I recommend his work.  We hope that you are not like the Vogons.)                                                                                      (to be continued)