There’s a Czechoslovakian man who believes aliens are trying to assassinate him. Meteorites have struck his house five times in the past several months, and because this defies the odds, he’s concluded it must be aliens.
Now, I can understand the thought popping into his head. I once heard a thunk in my car and thought it might be a bomb (which, 13 years later, still amuses my wife to no end). How, though, do you hold on to this thought for more than a few seconds and not laugh about it? Let’s just assume for a moment that the aliens are out there. What does this guy do for a living that might make him a target? What could he possibly have done that could rouse their ire? Maybe they’re just doing it for the giggles, like some cosmic meatspace version of the Flying Spaghetti Monster game.
Even better is he’s reinforced the roof of his house to protect himself. Does this mean he thinks he’s safe if he’s having a beer at the local pub? Or if he checks into a hotel room every time it rains? Rather than spend all that money, why not just move? If the meteorites follow him to his new house, then it might be worth entertaining the notion of intelligent guidance behind the meteorites.
I can’t help but laugh at the image of him hiding under a table every time it rains. It makes me wonder what else he’s doing about it, like holding a rifle across his lap and shooting back when a new meteorite hits. We should put him in touch with Troy Hurtubise so they can turn the Angel Light into a superweapon and mount it on an Ursus Bearsuit to battle the aliens. Or at the very least he should file a grievance with the Vogons.
Shifting from the extraterrestrial to the divine, there’s a story in India about a girl born with two faces. Obviously that means she’s a reincarnated goddess. People from neighboring villages are already worshiping her as such, and the parents will not allow doctors to give the girl a CT scan.
I love it. When a goat is born with two faces or a cat is born with one eye, it’s a deformity. At the very least, superstitious or religious (pick your poison) folk will call it a curse or a bad omen. When it happens to a child, though? She’s a goddess! Can’t go tying bad mojo to our precious little babies! “Misfortune and mutation my ass, it’s a blessing!” As with all things religious, it’s all so arbitrary and convenient.
Taken together, these are a good example of how quickly people turn to paranormal or supernatural explanations for things they don’t understand. It doesn’t matter that one guy lives in a modern culture and the others in a Third World village; they both jump to extreme conclusions.
Welcome to your modern world.