KR BlogBlogCurrent EventsEthics

She Is That Thing from Another World (Part 1)


“Women have one of the great acts of all time. The smart ones act very feminine and needy, but inside they are real killers. The person who came up with the expression ‘the weaker sex’ was either very naive or had to be kidding.”

— Trump: The Art of the Comeback, 1997

She fell onto earth, or perhaps she was thrown out of a spaceship, or perhaps she’s not a she at all, but because of its (her) delicate build, thin arms, and almond-shaped eyes, the press reported that existence as “SHE’S HEEEERE—AND SHE’S 100% REAL,” and it (she) was feminized, it as she as strangeness, as otherness, named frail and solitary as if cast out of Her kind, or the last of Her kind, which cannot be her kind, it doesn’t matter, and she was named gentle and ethereal, despite its (her) international reputation for sudden homicidal intrusions into the life of humans (see The Fourth Kind, Dark Skies).

In matters of violence, She is often masculinized (see Fire in the Sky, Alien, Predator), but it’s important to note even as a Queen Mother, She’s defeated by a woman in the (mythical) Caterpillar P-5000 Work Loader as the woman has a (mythical) Class Two-Rating, a woman given the (fictitious) name of Ripley. We know this because we gave Ripley both her name and her story, both her quick wits and her moral salvation. If it weren’t for us, Ripley wouldn’t be in her underwear throwing Her (previously thought Him) out an airlock, or die after giving birth to Her, or resurrected as part-Ripley, part-Her-as-Other, all thanks to us. But now we understand all these stories about Her came out of Our Fear of Her, and now that She’s here and 100 percent real, and frail and weak, her number being only one, we have decided to let Her fall onto earth, or be thrown out of a spaceship, it doesn’t matter.

Now some have felt that She had to be named, but who wants that kind of responsibility, and to be perfectly honest, no one has asked if She had a name before. She is simply She, or The Alien, but mostly She. No one has asked Her if She’s come to visit the whales instead, but She has two legs like us, and whales have no legs, after all. We assume She is here and 100 percent for us and why wouldn’t she be. It’s not even a question.

Just how Her Story On Earth began remains largely unknown, but since we don’t like the unknown, and She is the epitome of the Unknown, and we must make sense of her, Or Else, She has been given many stories, which is to say conspiracy theories, to complicate Her and Her frailness and singleness, to give her The Kind of Story that gives us a story in turn, and there’s even a Gallup poll to measure not which story is Most Likely but which is Most Likeable, and so it goes that there was a very large earthquake Somewhere in the Middle of Nowhere, only it wasn’t an earthquake, it was Her Arrival that caused Mass Destruction. And although She’s here and 100 percent real for us alone, the story goes that the first being she met was an old female buffalo, although some say a spinster yak, a most lonely mule, the details don’t really matter, or if even the four-legged creature She met was female at all, or how the most certainly female buffalo-yak-mule could be described as frail when such animals are The Salt of the Earth, or if the animal was even really alone, it doesn’t matter, we have named this Beast of Burden weak and solitary as if cast out of her kind, or the last of her kind, it’s didn’t matter, this is not her story, she walks on four legs, after all, and is wild, lives in the wild, that kind of female who lives alone and freely, uninhibited, selfishly, without honoring laws and borders, a kind of thing alive without God.

And so it’s said that the four-legged animal took kindly to Her, and for at least a month they were inseparable, gliding down frozen slopes and traversing precipitous rock slides that were still trembling from the shifting plates of the earth’s crust, which of course were actually the aftershocks of Her Arrival. It’s widely thought that this buffalo-yak-mule from Somewhere in the Middle of Nowhere regarded Her with an air of motherly superiority, pushing Her down the mountains with both urgency and impatience, the four-legged creature guiding Her using only her wild, wicked ways, such as those that guide such animals, and such that would’ve led Her most certainly to Impending Doom if not for the sudden arrival of Good Men.

For once they reached the foot of the mountains, the four-legged creature became alarmed and stopped Her from moving further. The story goes there was a strong sense of stillness that pervaded the foot of the mountains, a paralyzing, nauseating kind of stillness that She Who Fell Onto the Earth most certainly had never experienced. And then without warning, and rather violently and randomly—as is known to the Wild, Godless, Female Kind—the four-legged animal suddenly left Her side and charged at an oncoming truck which was carrying a dozen crowded cages of endangered wild parrots confiscated from Who Knows, the female separated from the males Of Course, both protecting and forsaking Her who scuttled away from the heart of the chaos while also remaining in Plain Sight.

Some say that the motherly buffalo, the formerly most solitary mule, did this to protect her new charge. The border police who patrolled Somewhere in the Middle of Nowhere came out of the truck’s devastated cab and regarded the large body of the dying four-legged animal, before shooting her on the spot, these good men who looked around the area for a good twenty minutes, not even seeing Her, as She stood right in front of them, in Plain Sight, in all her Strange Glory, because these men have been preoccupied for quite some time. It’s no secret these Very Good Men—if not the Best Men of Our Times—have been the targets of snipers hidden in the mountain crevices which have molded to their sniper-bodies. Their adaptive, scattered and most invisible sniper presence She must’ve immediately sensed but couldn’t make sense of, for She was uncertain of the struggle between the two groups, of whose hostility only surfaced when provoked and whose predatory instincts did the provoking.

It must be mentioned here that is Almost Against Collective Will that we even care about Her, the previously most mythical creature of this story, which must give us a story in turn, Our Story, and it’s must easier to care about someone who doesn’t exist, whose existence can be disproven at Any Given Moment, which is why She is the most mythical female (in fact) of all female existence, because if She can’t be disproven, She must be a Threat, for it is out duty to inform you just how sneaky She is.

And so it goes that She stood in Plain Sight until the border police had divided up the wild parrots, to sell on the black market (allegedly), and they called for Back-Up to come pick them up, which other Good Men most certainly did, and she stood in Plain Sight in front of them too, but they did not see her either. These Good Back-Up Men only saw the parrots, for which they laid claims too, and perhaps She saw the way the two-legged border police factions fought over the Other Two-Legged Animals in Cages, the shouting and shaking of fists that followed, and so She stayed still and quiet in Plain Sight, until shots were fired, and some fell dead on the ground, the shots fired by those invisible snipers, of course, and not the Good Men themselves.

Perhaps it was fright, or Her natural sneakiness, but for weeks She traveled only at night, for darkness we imagine spoke to Her as both Fear and Cover. She remained on the outskirts of towns, and stuck to farms to ask Other Four-Legged creatures which was the best way to escape the hands of man, but found these were creatures robbed of their language, which is to say all She sensed was The Fear that had replaced their natural language, Fear So Great that no kind of sense or understanding could seep out. These were creatures without silence, born into existence knowing their days were numbered. They were encumbered by fetters and barbed wire, and their enclosures were dirty and crowded, and all She sensed was The Fear, and it frightened Her, for they did not live freely, their conditions were the very making of Honoring Laws and Borders, because the lives we have chosen for them keep us alive, God Bless America.

It must be mentioned that since She was here and 100 percent here for us, and why wouldn’t she be, that She is given Special Attention. She hasn’t been given a name but at least Captilization, and if She wasn’t here for us, [she] wouldn’t be allowed such liberities, and we wouldn’t have given [her] The Kind of Story that is really our story, for [she] is not even telling it, and [she] would be nothing more than a myth, which is to say Only Her Reputation, only known as sudden homicidal intrusions into the life of humans [see They Live, Extraterrestrial, Invasion of the Body Snatchers], in which The Fear replaces not only Her natural language but Her very self in our culture [See Mars Attacks!, Killer Klowns from Outer Space], it’s not even a question that we would take away even Her silence.

So it was only a matter of time until she learned that such useless, inane four-legged things were of no use, other than as a lesson in Fear, and it was this Fear that drove Her further and further East, until She reached the sea and its vastness and impenetrability. This was, as we like to call it, a Turning Point. It is said She could go No Further On Her Own, for She believed that Her own body entering the water meant She’d have to swim for the rest of Her life. And this was the exact moment that She needed us even when She did not know it, exactly, to keep Her safe, to carry Her as our burden, to decide Her fate, and She found her way onto a freighter and—just how, we aren’t certain— into an enormous, ventilated, frozen box marked Warning: Various Quarantined Human Tissues that had been emptied by those same invisible snipers who deal in human organ trafficking, who sometimes abduct and murder women, who walk alone at night on the streets to sell their organs to sick children with parents whom are too desperate to ask where the transplants came from.

Although the box was tossed around in cargo and the constant rocking of the ship made Her quite ill, She was otherwise left alone as the boat tripped up to the windy shores of the Port of New York and New Jersey and they say it was Her Scent, her New Scent now potent with newly learned Fear, that carried over the water onto the shore and into the cities and towns, interrupting The Natural Flow of Things, invading our consciousness in fact, and soon even second-story men who flanked the entire Eastern seaboard knew nothing else but this scent, this mythical scent we made Most Real, by what else but Fear, God Bless America, we create the sweetest scents that most of the world can’t even describe but hope will come into existence.

In other times, She might have been chased down by the Holy Trifecta of the FBI, CIA, and Homeland Security, or locked in a circus cage, or tortured in a laboratory, but these are Civilized Times after all, and who else would be the first one to approach Her but an entertainment lawyer. . . .

This is the first part of a two-part series. Read Part 2 Here.