That’s not what I mean….
I was just listening to a biologist podcast about tardigrades and learnt we’ve been subjecting them to all the extremes to see what they can tolerate: super-fast speeds, radiation, you name it we’ve done it to them…
Think if super-advanced aliens did this to us. Oh. Oh god. ‘How much velocity to squish us?’ ‘How much sound to shake us apart?’
Suddenly anal probing doesn’t seem so bad.
e: ‘we’ll stick an appropriately-sized thing into an orifice that seems made for that’ sounds downright friendly by comparison.
Heres the thing. Every month, once a month. They probe you and not just them but they hand you around to their friends probing you over and over again. Every month, once a month. And then. for no reason. they stop. You never hear from them again. No calls. No text. No email. Nuthin. Totally ghosted. wtf!
Related (prequel?)
I believe the anal probing stories of the 50s-70s were excuses made up by queer men to rationalize their late night encounters.
Alien in a wig = cute twink?
Alien abduction stories have a survivorship bias.
2/3 of our planet has a great place to drop test subjects that gave them the answers they wanted outside of fecal samples.
Depends on the construction, depth, speed, and any other unfathomable spacetime-related capabilities of said probe.
Most people who report such an experience seem to have been relatively uninjured. e: sometimes they claim to be tagged with a chip or something. We tend to do that to animals, too.
In comparison to the other experiments that could be conducted on us, probing does sound relatively mild. What I want to know is why these super advanced beings that are capable of interplanetary travel haven’t been able to come up with a more sophisticated method of studying us than sticking things up our bums. Unless they enjoy it.
Now I’m picturing a sort of reverse cargo cult situation in which the aliens, after a generation or so, think this is expected as a sort of human greeting.
It seems weird, but it always starts good relations, so…
(e: in some federation of planets, word has got round that this is the customary greeting when visiting earth.)
Plot Twist: It is us who enjoy it.
Maybe it’s just some people who are so afraid and yet so fascinated about the thought of getting plowed in the ass, that they have to envision a powerful, advanced alien race that they’re unable to fight, so they can justify the fantasy to themselves without having to come to terms as to why their peepee tingles when they look at other peepees.
