This reminds me of a funny story the British satirist Alan Coren wrote about an alien knocking on the front door of an American family’s home.
It starts with the son opening the door and calling out, “Hey, Pop, there’s a little green guy standing in the doorway.”
it continues on with the householder inviting him in and then proceeding to boast that his kids’ bridge work cost more than Guatemala’s annual budget, and that they’ve got enough fire power to wipe out the rest of the world. The kid pipes up, telling his sister that if they let in more of the little green guys, “How do you think you’ll feel when you have eau-de-nul children? Huh? Huh?”
It finishes up with the little green guy going back to his mates in the flying saucer, and commenting how depressing the human barbarians are. They wonder if we’re a lost cause, and one of them remarks, “Oh, I dunno. Someone has to pick the cotton.”
I wonder indeed. I mean, we can fly to the moon, split the atom, focus on cancer cells with radiation treatment, posit quantum mechanics, quantum teleport.
But then we’ll sit down to dinner with a T-bone steak, and at the end pick up the bone and gnaw on it like any contented cave man, and maybe dig the marrow out of a joint with a knife.
We’re a strange mix, and I think any aliens that got here would probably find a lot to joke about, including our eclectic mix of religions.
