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By: Paul S Cilwa |
Posted: 12/9/2019 |
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Page Views: 1,673 |
| Hashtags: #Writing #Parody #Comedy |
| A parody of 'Chariots of the Gods?' I wrote before I, too, became convinced that our creators were aliens. Still...funny is funny! |
| Estimated reading time: 4 minute(s) (920 words) |
Yes, this is an age of discovery and change, when old,
established beliefs are being challenged on every side.
Nevertheless, mankind may or may not be prepared to accept the
logical conclusions to which my research has brought me…
As a child studying the Christian Bible, I always suspected that part of
the story was missing. As it turned out, I was right; we were poor
and our copy of the Bible was missing the Book of Ruth and two pages
of Religious pictures from Picasso's Blue period. However, this
driving feeling kept me searching, searching, until now, at last! I
know I have the Answer.
How well I remember that night. I was in
a Mr. Donut shop at the time, munching on a chocolate twist, when a
sudden gust of wind blew the door open, throwing snow all over
everything. There we were, fishing snowflakes out of our coffee when
the man next to me said, "Just think—if we could only read
the snowflakes, what they could tell us!" I wasn't able to continue
the conversation with him; for, just then, the sanitarium guards
found him and took him away. But it got me to thinking: the Old
Testament often says that God took on the form of "a pillar of
cloud". But—what if—that wasn't just an appearance, but His
true form?! Suppose all the clouds in the sky are actually the gods
Who created us? Think of the dreadful blasphemy we commit when we
seed!
Our tales of creation must have been handed to us during
various ice ages. And no wonder Hell is pictured as being a place of
eternal fire—how opposite the Heaven that is actually above us,
in the frigid stratosphere!
Even today, with warmer climate
prevalent upon the earth, the gods try to communicate with us.
Whenever the temperature is low enough to make it possible, they let
fall their snowflake messages that we find so hard to understand.
Since the gods' body temperatures are lower than ours, their
messages melt as soon as we try to bring them inside. As you can
imagine, this makes translating procedures almost impossibly
difficult. And, as if it weren't hard enough to decipher each
individual snowflake, the gods give us an even more challenging
task: catching them in the right order.
In my desperate attempts to
prove (and my feeble attempts to disprove) the validity of the theory I have
traveled the globe and spoken to everyone I
could find who might support it, no matter how remote the place
or disreputable the source.
Last July I flew to the lost Incan city of Caramanka in the Andean mountains to unearth more
evidence which you yourself could check if you happened to be rich and free enough to do so.
This city is amazing in many respects, not the least of which is this peculiar fact: although the city was built about 5000 years ago,
and mysteriously deserted in 1477, there is a Rexall Drug Store in the exact, geometric center of it.
This building is aligned to the spot where the magnetic North Pole was, 5000 years ago,
and dull razor blades mysteriously sharpen if left inside for a few days.
What can all this mean? We can only guess…but it is hard to blame the whole thing on coincidence.
Even more amazing are the "Living Hands of Bombur", which my wife's hairdresser told us about.
Her ex-brother-in-law's old Navy buddy had seen it: the image, repeatedly featured in prehistoric
frescoes in that Indian city, depicts two disembodied hands holding some transparent material.
Everyone who sees this is chilled by the instant recognition that the ancient residents of this
forgotten city somehow had, and used, plastic sandwich wrap. They may even have had sandwiches!
The implications are staggering.
Much more work needs to be done in this vital direction. Unfortunately, such research takes money…lots of money.
I don't, of course, ask for handouts, but I do request that you all buy my slightly overpriced paperbacks to
permit me to go on with my studies. My next book, In Search of Ancient Prostitutes, will be on sale shortly.
Meanwhile, up yours, Von Daniken!
Figure 1: The "Living Hands" prove the ancients had Glad Wrap.