For nearly two years, I have thought of little else. First, there was the New York Times’ December 2017 report on the Pentagon’s Advanced Aerospace Identification Program, which shut down in 2012, and had reportedly found evidence of unidentified aircraft flying in impossible ways. Then, there was the 2018 declassified Pentagon video that supposedly showed a Navy jet encountering a UFO, and a few months after that, the paper published by Harvard scientists about “Oumuamua,” a cigar-shaped object that may possibly be “a fully operational probe sent intentionally to Earth vicinity by an alien civilization.” Over Memorial Day weekend, the Times released another story about Navy pilots reporting UFO sightings.
In light of these reports, people recently created a Facebook event to “Storm Area 51” on Friday, September 20, 2019. So far, over a million users have RSVP’d. “Lets see them aliens [sic],” the event description reads. (The military has issued a statement strongly discouraging anyone from entering the area.)
All of this alien news raises a lot of questions. Have aliens visited Earth before? How much does the government know, and what is it keeping from us? Are the aliens friendly, or are they coming to harvest all of our spleens for rocket fuel? And most importantly: Are they hot?
Below, some things to consider.
What even is a hot alien?
Is it an alien that looks like a hot human? Is it an alien that doesn’t look like a human, but has a great personality and a charm and magnetism that you can’t explain? Are they — as Antonio Vilas Boas, a Brazilian farmer and lawyer who claimed to have been abducted and had sex with extraterrestrials, once described — humanoids with small pointed chins, blue eyes, and bright-red underarm and pubic hair?
Or is it, like, a shapeless cloud of mist that doesn’t look like anything, but that fires up our synapses in a way that is both unsettling and arousing?
Will the aliens think I’m hot?
What kind of narrow and restrictive beauty norms do aliens have, and how can I adhere to them? Should I be working out more? Less? Should I dye my hair green, or is that reductive? Why can’t the aliens just love and accept me for who I am, a human woman with hopes and dreams and insecurities, who is so much more than just her breasts, or her fully intact spleen?
What if the aliens are hot, but have terrible personalities?
Maybe they’ll be super-condescending about the fact that their space-travel program is so much more advanced than ours, or maybe the only music they’ll listen will be the long instrumental intros of Dave Matthews Band songs. How do you ghost someone who can maybe read your mind?
How would we kiss?
Is kissing even hot to them, or are they all about — I don’t know — pressing foreheads together, or docking belly buttons? Also, what if a hot alien and I try to kiss, and they start sucking on my elbow and I’m like, Oh, uh, that’s not it, and they get really embarrassed and are like, Haha, yeah, I know, I was just kidding, and then we kiss normally, mouth tentacle–to–mouth, but we can never get the spark back?
What if the aliens aren’t looking for anything serious?
What if a hot alien and I click, and it seems like this could really be something, and I start picturing our life together and researching weekend trip ideas, and then they’re like, Oh, actually I’m just trying to keep it casual and maybe get this app idea off the ground right now? How do I convey to them that I care less and always cared less?
What if I fall in love with this one hot alien, and everything is going great, but then we throw a dinner party and the hot alien’s other hot alien friend shows up, and I also fall in love with them, and then I don’t know whether I should listen to my heart and run off with this second hot alien, or stay and honor the beautiful life I built with the first alien?