The fluffy white clouds in the sky today got me thinking about Shirley MacLaine’s recent appearance on Oprah. Ms. MacLaine said (I’m paraphrasing here) that she would sit at her place in New Mexico and watch the alien spaceships go by.
Oprah asked her what they looked like.
Ms. MacLaine said that they disguised themselves as clouds.
I’ve been looking closely at clouds ever since. I have to say, as far as disguises go, that one would be genius, as who thinks twice about a cloud? They can vary their speed, and have it blamed on the wind. There can be as many and as few of them as needed, because who ever says that there are too many, or too few, or an odd number of clouds in the sky?
The part that slows me down (or up, depending on the part of the country you call home) is how the airplanes fly through them. Or do the alien clouds hang low enough in the sky so as not to cause a mid-air collision? And what information are they wanting from us? Are we really that interesting to go to all that trouble?
Honestly, I think the theory creates more questions than it answers.
My overflow of skepticism aside, it’s difficult to imagine that in the incomprehensible vastness of the universe, our tiny little planet in its rural part of the galaxy is the only one to produce life. Look at the abundance and variety found just here, with our limited supply of building blocks and ingredients. I see the areas of the universe with densely packed planets, like many science-fiction writers before me, as open-air markets for biodiversity and the accompanying evolution of species and technology (or maybe it’s one too many viewings of the bar on Tatooine).
Now whether that technology includes cloud cloaking, well, only they (and possibly Ms. MacLaine) know that. Either way, I’m waving at the clouds. It never hurts to be friendly.