I like robots. And space. Probably more than I like people, if we’re being honest here (which, if we are? I don’t like The Beatles, I hunted down my Xmas presents – and found them – every year and once took a day off work sick to watch 24).
So, Spirit being stuck up there on Mars, all alone? Is actually quite upsetting to me. Either this means I am an uncaring bastard (I laughed when people died in Titanic and when people fell down wells in Lassie, so I would accept this judgement), or something far more sinister is afoot!
Which leads me to my main point…
Do you think it’s possible to be aware of the fact you are becoming a pod person? Could you really class it as a pod person if it was you metamorphosing into someone else? Body Snatchers were just replacements, I’m thinking a new, futuristic breed where you actually mutate – a la Kafka or Goldblum in The Fly but far less gross – until you become someone (or something) else.
Now, you may think I’ve spent too much of my life reading and watching Sci-Fi and, in all honesty and under extreme torture, I’d agree with you, but! It has to be based in some fact to be believable, right? And the fact of the matter is, I caught what I now believe to be a super-advanced alien virus from work – we shall call this a ‘cold’ – and I have been different ever since.
You may laugh, but I have proof!
Signs I’ve been taken over by a weird alien pod-person creating virus:
Joining a gym seems like a really good idea
I hate exercise. I like playing sport, but keeping fit by wearing space-age clothes and sweating in front of other people who take joy in being part of this mass experiment in group pain has less appeal than going to see a Katherine Jenkins concert (note: I would punch her in the mouth if I could get away with it). So why do I have the sudden urge to go join the masses of morons by joining them in their superficial exercise routines? Aliens.
Talking to People about Stuff
I don’t like people. They talk to you and you have to be nice and talk back and, generally, they just aren’t worth the effort. I can normally (barely) manage idle chitchat and work-based conversations, but these past couple of weeks? I have been more sociable and talkative and, quite frankly, I don’t like it.
People now know things about me – I much preferred it when they thought I was just the vaguely scary Welsh one. I still am (I hope), I just don’t like this ‘being’ normal thing that has recently surfaced. New me? Literally.
I have ideas, that I never write down. This is what I do. I do not end up with diagrams and plans and a few pages already decided upon because that makes things real. And since I can’t write and have never done this before? Pod person.
Not drinking coffee
Admittedly, this is something I do every so often when I suddenly remember that it makes me irritable, doesn’t keep me awake in the slightest and generally tastes like ass (I imagine). BUT! Coupled with everything else? I find it suspicious!
Walking into walls
My co-ordination hasn’t been this bad since, as a toddler, I ran into a wall in hospital because I wanted to go see my nan who the doctors had turned green (long story). To be fair, who wouldn’t risk severe brain trauma to see that? But, I have walked into several different walls already this week. Thinking of keeping a photo journal if I carry on.
This isn’t related to any of the above, but it really bothers me, so…
Why did they have such tiny arms? How did they manage to do anything? I can’t imagine they were flexible enough to keep getting down on one knee and leaning slightly to grab at things, so… what was the point?
I think, based on the above (you may discount the dinosaur point but, seriously, why?!), you’ll agree that there is something very strange going down in good ole London town. Or that I should maybe get some sleep. Either way, it’s something for you to think about!