The 15 minute walk up Rose Avenue from my apartment to the nearest over-priced grocery store (that would of course be Whole Foods) is a colorful and interesting walk. You are sure to be surprised by something along the way. If it's not the giant ballerina-with-a-clown-head on the wall of the CVS Pharmacy, maybe it will be the neighborhood medical pot store, or the stenciled sidewalk art - a sinister looking silhouette of a man pointing up at you with the words, "You love the man," stenciled next to him.
You might be surprised by the shear number of society's outcasts. There's a unique breed of homelessness in Venice, but that's another issue, to be dealt with at another time.
Taped or stapled to the streetlight poles and power poles are the usual posters; a band playing somewhere, a missing cat, a missing dog, a missing person...
It was along these lines that one particular flier taped to a pole caught my attention recently. At the top in bold letters was the word "Abducted!" Below the word was a picture of a bearded 20-something-looking gjuy.
I stepped closer to read the rest of the poster. It stated that this guy was abducted by aliens on a particluar day, at a particular time, in Topanga Canyon. Then it said, "If you have any means of alien contact, please call us," and then it listed the phone number....and that was it.
The poster raised a lot of questions for me, more questions than it could ever hope to answer.
Did the people making the poster actually SEE their friend get abducted by aliens? Even if you are able to contact these aliens, what will you say to them? Can you negotiate an abductee's release from alien capture? If you can negotiate an abductee's release, how do you negotiate? Do you offer a trade? Some other human to experiment on in exchange for the return of your friend? If you can negotiate a trade, who do you trade for? Do you look for a volunteer, or do you trade away someone against their will?
I nominate Kim Kardashian.
I plan to contact the President in the next few days and arrange a trade negotiation, in which we give the aliens Kim K in exchenge for the return of whatever-the-hell-his-name-is - let's call him "Topanga Dude."
It's a beautiful trade, the more I think about it. I want to be there when the alien ship comes down through the Canyon trees and touches down gently on the roadway. Then the hatch slides gracefully open. Topanga Dude steps awkwardly out of the space craft, sheilding his eyes from the bright light of the many car headlights. Kim K is then presented to the aliens. She wimpers a little as the government agent pulls her by the arm toward the craft. Several cars away Kanye shrugs and smiles as she is ushered into the craft and the hatch closes.
Moments later the craft - and Kim - are gone, never again to return to Earth.
One of Topanga Dude's friends asks him if he's okay.
"Sure, I guess," he says.
"What did they do to you?" a friend asks.
"Mostly they just made me scrub their toilets," he says. "Oh, and they did experiments on my brain."
"Cool," the friend says.
Then we all get in our cars and go home, never to hear about Kim Kardashian ever again....
...And there was peace on Earth from that day on....
July 15, 2015