“Only attracted to space aliens” is the sexual orientation that usually goes along with transplanetism, the condition of being an alien trapped in a human body.
Oh, and this has nothing to do with the comic, but I just wanted to say: Whenever I see this cat food in a store:
this is what I imagine:
A proposition: All P are Q
I proposition: Some P are Q
E proposition: No P are Q
O Proposition: Some P are not Q
E: No non-chickens are animals that go “cluck cluck”
I: Some animals on Old MacDonald’s farm are chickens
E: No pigs are animals that go “cluck cluck”
I: Some animals on Old MacDonald’s farm are pigs
O: Therefore, some animals on Old MacDonald’s farm are not chickens
All right now, that’s it for silliness today.
Okay, I lied, I still have more:
Story written with no vowels except I
This is something I just dug out of my file folders of childhood writing. I was a very unusual pre-teen.
The first line of this comic is one that has been actually used by real religous people, despite its utterly contrary logic.
When you search online for phrases like “What does the Bible say about suicide,” you get a lot of vague semi-relevant passages, never actually including the one that’s closest to being relevant (the one about laying down your life for a friend).
And does that passage even make sense? Is giving up your life actually okay whenever you think it will benefit someone else? Doesn’t every human death benefit others just by eliminating your deadly carbon footprint and making more resources available on this overcrowded planet? Can I responsibly keep living, knowing that if I died and left all my money to charity, I could save many more lives? Am I justified in continuing to let dozens of other people die just to keep myself living?
Of course, if they stay alive, each of them will cause others to die by taking their resources. There’s no way to save everyone.
In case you can’t tell, I’m depressed about the state of the world lately. Not suicidally depressed; I’m too scared of death for that. Just need-lots-of-medication depressed. Maybe Chrissy is right. Maybe I would be happier to go on living if I could believe in God and an afterlife and a greater purpose to all this. But being able to believe that sort of thing would require me to change who I am– so drastically that my self as I know it would essentially die, which is what I’m scared of in the first place.
And it’s June right now, so by the time you read this I’ll probably be out of this depressed phase anyway. Don’t worry about me.