From: kibo@world.std.com (James "Kibo" Parry)
Subject: Re: Landslide for Kibo!  Spokesman for Earth Vote Final Results
Organization: Two rooms filled with typography, in downtown Boston
Date: Sat, 3 Oct 1992 04:43:42 GMT

In article <1992Oct2.184533.1@indyvax.iupui.edu> harvey@indyvax.iupui.edu writes:
>Rick Gordon of Netcom, who instigated this whole thing, has called for Kibo
>to give an acceptance speech in alt.alien.visitors.  He also says that Kibo
>may list his new title on his business card and in campaign literature for
>the upcoming presidential election.

Oh, foo, now I have to redeisgn my card AGAIN!

>When I nominated Kibo for this position, I was concerned about the short
>notice and time period for voting.  I think all the people out there who
>worked so hard to get out the vote for Leader Kibo should give themselves
>a pat on the back for a job well done!

If you are unable to do so due to single-jointedness, drop by and I will
give you a pat on the back.

>40 Kibo
>11 Geoff Miller, American
> 9 Cicciolina
> 9 lightnin@wpi.wpi.edu
> 8 Dalai Lama
> 3 Carl Sagan [etc., etc.]

SPEECH, ACCEPTANCE, STANDARD: ONE
=================================

"Ladies, and gentlemen (in no particular order), I thank you for voting
for me, because in so doing you have voted for yourselves, although
your selves have also vote for me, but I also voted for me, so I really
voted for you.  However, this is in no way concerned with the
ever-pressing problem of bad typography.
    "Because I am Kurt Vonnegut's evil twin, I must digress.  Here is the
shortest story I have ever written."

             THE BRADY BUNCH GETS STRANDED ON GILLIGAN'S ISLAND
             WITH THE THREE STOOGES:

             No.

    "As far as I know, that is the only story which is only two letters
long.  It contains no swears and is absolutely politically correct.
Pfeh!  I am not politically correct.  I am politically perfect.  Thus, I
will not admit to ever having seen the Brady Bunch episode where Marcia
gets hit in the face with a football, because I am the reputable
Spokesman For The Whole Wide Earth.
    "I have a Whole Earth Catalog in my lap.  It keeps me from getting
burned by my soup.  My soup is a multiethnic delight of kosher peas with
daringly nonkosher Spam.  Of course, some would say that the peas would
no longer be kosher, because they had come in contact with the Spam.  To
this I say: Spam Is Kosher!  All you have to do is eat all the carbon
atoms first.  Carbon is kosher.  Then eat all the oxygen atoms, then the
hydrogen atoms, and so on down to the traces of radioactive strontium.
It all goes to the same place, so it is just like eating Spam, but you
are spared the insufferable delight of eating something verboten."
    "Then again, if you look at it another way, everything is
non-kosher, because somehwere, ten thousand years ago, a pig died and
turned to dust, and one of his atoms migrated into the ground, where it
wound up in a pea plant, and therefore my peas all have microscopic bits
of pig in them.  Clearly, a new classification for food is called for.
I'm glad I don't worry about such things.
    "Back to the subject.  The subject of this speech, as you have
noticed, is my spokesmanliness.  Notice as I say that word that I sound
just like Adam West.  I had a class in that.  It was the lowest level of
speech class: In 'Voice And Articulation' we did not make speeches.  We
practiced saying single vowels and consonants.  On one day we worked on
the schwa.  Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh.  Another day we did the eng: ding, dong,
dung, sing, sang, sung.  Eventually we worked our way up to nasalized
pairs of vowels and consonants:  Nancy, hand the man the dandy candy.
Say that exciting little phrase ten million times and you, too, can
sound like Adam West!
    "If only all problems were that much fun to solve.
    "As I see it, the only problem I will have to face as Spokesman For
Earth, is, who do I talk to?  We don't know where the aliens are or even
if they're listening.  I could just go to a mountain and stand there and
shout, 'Hey you guys!  I'm spokesman for this planet!  You can probably
see it from where you are, if you can hear me!  Hello?  Is anyone
there?'  Or I could dial random numbers on the phone and ask, 'Hello,
may I speak to any alien beings who might be at home?'  Clearly, I must
wait until we know who to talk to before I can talk to them
intelligently.
    "And what intelligent phrase would the aliens say to us to introduce
themselves?
    "They would probably have learned English by watching our
television.  I suppose a small group of aliens would probably land in
the capital.  The leader would step up to the President, and say in his
best Adam-West style voice: 'Quick, Robin, to the Batcave!'.  The second
alien would whine, 'He was just taking advantage of a conveeeenient local
legend!' while the third said 'Just the facts, ma'am.'  Now, these
aliens, for all intents and purposes, would be conforming to the norms
of our society as broadcast into deep space.
    "Clearly, I am the person most suited to communicate with them.  Not
only have I seen Stephen Hawking's movie, but I've also seen the episode
of 'Perfect Strangers' where Balki and Larry bake cookies that explode.
I know the Pythagoream Theorem, and that Don Adams wears elevator shoes.
I've seen the fall of Communism and the farewell of Johnny Carson.  And
I want to talk about it.
    "Bring on the aliens.  And if they try to eat me, I'll just stare
them squarely in the five eyes and say: 'You can't eat me.  I'm the only
man who knows which "Brady Bunch" episode has the scene where they leave
in the blue car and come back in the brown station wagon.'
    "Bring them on, bring them on, bring them on!"

						-- Kibo Vonnegut Jr.

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