We’re all that an alien species would want
The Security Council defeat was tough for Canada, but it overshadowed a more shocking international snub. Earlier this month, it was reported that the United Nations had appointed a diplomat from Malaysia—and not a Canadian—to serve as global ambassador to space aliens.
The news, reported in Britain by the Sunday Times, came as a real blow to Stephen Harper. Our Prime Minister had gone so far as to appoint John Baird to his cabinet—what more could he possibly have done to showcase his willingness to work with unusual life forms?
As it turns out, the Times made a mistake: the Malaysian official has in fact been put in charge of protecting us from incoming asteroids. Naturally, the UN hasn’t actually named anyone to serve in so silly a role as global liaison to E.T.
Which means the job is still up for grabs! I shall depart immediately to make Canada’s case to the General Assembly . . .
Diplomats of Earth:
Let me begin by saying: we’re not bitter. Our Prime Minister has informed us we didn’t get on the Security Council because of Michael Ignatieff, American chicanery, Arab payback, bad luck, bad karma, low biorhythms and Belgium’s dog eating our application form. We’re sure your Council will benefit greatly from Portugal’s long history of international indifference and fiscal spazitude.
I’m here today to ask you an unrelated question: when you think of countries known for warmly greeting any and all newcomers who aren’t Tamils on boats or George Galloway, whom do you think of?
Canada has everything an arriving species could want: oodles of natural resources, ample spaceship parking and a probe-ready population accustomed to taking it in the rear from their political overlords. It only makes sense that a Canadian should be named your first ambassador to extraterrestrials.
Let me assure you—we are not naive about the challenges of such a role. We grasp that our emissaries may well be subjected to the occasional diplomatic faux pas, such as being fatally devoured. But we’re strong enough as a nation to endure the minute of silence in memory of Peter MacKay.
We know there will be frustrations. A human trying to communicate with an alien will be like a lion trying to talk to a fish or a Tea Party candidate trying to do math. But our Prime Minister will support our efforts by bringing to the job an affinity for cross-cultural diplomacy and a homemade light sabre crafted from taped-together toilet paper tubes. You know, just in case things get hairy.
Rest assured, we in Canada are fully aware of all alien attributes. From watching Alien Nation, we know the male “vulnerable” spot is located not between the legs but along the sides of the torso. From Independence Day, we know visitors to our planet are invulnerable to nuclear weapons and terrible dialogue. From the last Indiana Jones instalment, we know the endings of movies involving aliens don’t have to make any sense or be good.
Members of the General Assembly: one of your top minds devoted to outer-space research said recently that the UN is still “many years away from having a plan on the ready” to greet interstellar visitors. Canada can do better. Within six months, we will put together for arriving aliens a decent map, some local takeout menus and a basket of 30,000 baby kittens for companionship or snacking.
The arrival of an alien species will be a landmark moment in our shared history. It will change us as a people. You know how in Star Trek the citizens of Earth responded to alien contact by coming together in unity and setting aside petty conflict? Well, that’s not actually going to happen.
In real life, some countries will attempt to destroy the aliens. Others will try to appease them. Thirty per cent of Americans will take one look at the giant alien spacecraft and claim that’s where Obama was born. And if our visitors land first in Iran? They’ll be warp sixing it back to their home nebula before Ahmadinejad can finish vilifying the Jewish menace.
Let Canada assume the burden of first contact and the alien leaders will be more likely to stick around. At least until they find out that it was our Capt. Kirk who slept with their sisters.