Dear Stephen Hawking,
Firstly, I hope that this is indeed your real Facebook page, sir, and that I am not posting on some imposter’s wall. I will attempt to be concise as I know you are a man who keeps his dance card full, as it were. Here on Dingus 7, approximately 13 billion light years from your planet Earth, my life would probably seem very dull in comparison to yours as I, Zurg Zang, am a simple being.
Now then, if I may address your new program on the Discovery Channel (yes, we get basic cable here). I understand you have long been preoccupied with aliens. While others might call such an obsession “creepy” or “weird and kind of childish,” I say “To each his own.” But you are not just preoccupied; you’re convinced that all extraterrestrial life forms are dangerous; you imagine planets with murderous, yellow reptilian creatures flying around feasting on bizarre animals all day. So my question for you is this: what’s your problem, pal?
Think about it, Stephen Hawking. Imagine that I decided to say to all the inhabitants on Dingus 7, “Hey everybody, I bet there’s a faraway planet somewhere full of dangerous humans with a bazillion guns and nuclear weapons who go around killing each other. Don’t contact them because they might not respond peacefully!” As it happens, this is already common knowledge on Dingus 7, but still — doesn’t feel so good, does it?
As to your absurd and amateurish depictions of aliens, I don’t know where you’re getting this stuff. Cliffs inhabited by flying, yellow reptilian predators? You portray nightmares! Visit our cliffs and you’ll find only the gentle dingatrons, our golden-scaled friends who keep to themselves high up in the stratosphere, coming down only to feed on the flesh of land-dwellers as their hunger/bloodlust dictates. You imagine our oceans seething with vast fleets of horrific fluorescent beasts, which is fairly accurate, and yet you utter not a word of our precious sea horses. That’s right Stephen Hawking; just like on Earth, our oceans are also home to millions of them — enormous, radioactive sea horses. Every third Dinguinox, we gather among friends and family; with the night sky illuminated by the constant bursts of gamma rays, we can see clearly as hordes of gigantic sea horses emerge from the oceans to devour the sacrificial offerings which we have so carefully prepared, turning to ash and shadows anyone who has disappointed them.
I could go on describing such charms of daily life on my planet, but one must experience these things for oneself to truly appreciate that Dingus 7 is not a place of danger, but of splendor. And so, without further ado, I extend this invitation on behalf the D7 Board of Intergalactic Tourism (of which I happen to be Vice President): make Dingus 7 the destination for your next vacation!
With enchantments for the young as well as the young-at-heart, Dingus 7 is the perfect place to bring the whole family. While you’ll be far from home, our ubiquitous fog will make you feel like you’re right back in England! (Fun trivia fact: Did you know that all fog on Dingus 7 is fully sentient? Technically a parasite, our fog subsists on brain matter, which it accesses through the eyes of its “hosts;” once infected, these hosts are reduced to blind, vacuous shells whose sole purpose is to serve their fog “master.”)
Think Dingus 7 is just for families? Not so! Couples come to enjoy the romance of the lava spas, the nightly excitement of the sandworm attacks, and the cuisine — which is remarkably similar to a traditional English breakfast.
What are you waiting for, Stephen Hawking? Message me back to start planning your trip to Dingus 7 today!