Tag Archives: Aliens

They Say, They Say, They Say, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah

The point of this blog is something I have probably mentioned before. Being that it brings with it such a lack of understanding, I believe it bears mentioning again.

I’m sure we’ve all heard a phrase such as, “They say it’s gonna be hot today,” or perhaps, “They say if you don’t rotate your tires, they’ll wear unevenly.” Finally, they say, “If you sneeze with your eyes open, they’ll pop out of your head.”

Now, we have to ask ourselves who is “they” since “they” have a massive amount of influence over our daily lives?

I imagine a panel of crinkly old aliens sitting around a semi-circular, high-tech desk. Each one dressed in a futuristic robe, carrying an exotic staff.

They grunt in a guttural fashion constantly spewing out things that, according to them, are things we say. “We,” of course, meaning, “they.”

Giving the concept of “they, them, or whoever,” anymore thought than this is probably not a good idea. I just wanted to give you a heads up. I’m going back to my current manuscript. Have a great week.

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SAL RICKY HAD CLEARED the saloon wall by ten feet when Clay’s gun fired. The dual rounds flew true, making contact in the middle of his back. A bright light and a sonic boom of sorts ensued, splitting the creature in half. The two portions continued to run, slowing to a wobble and falling over sideways. No blood or fluid escaped the bifurcating wound as the molten copper rendered the cauterization complete.

Clay shook his head and picked himself up off the floor. A flood of pain shot from his right hand, up his arm, spidered through his shoulder and into his brain.

“Remind me not to do that again,” he said to himself, as he gingerly shook his hand hoping to relieve the widespread burning.

He made his way through the hole in the saloon wall (compliments of one decimated hydrak), and upon reaching the deceased creature, he nudged it with his boot.

“Now I’ve got to move two large pieces that are nothing but dead weight as opposed to one larger being that could move itself.” He removed his hat, lowered his head and shook it several times. After replacing his hat, he looked at the two dead halves.

“Why do they always have to choose the hard way?”

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Who are “They”? And What Makes Them an Authority on Everything?

The Thinker by Auguste Rodin Bronze

The Thinker by Auguste Rodin Bronze (Photo credit: mharrsch)

How many times have you heard growing up and even today, “they say?”  It doesn’t matter who you’re talking to, what you’re talking about, or why you even decided to have a conversation, there’s always room for, “they say.”

Now I’ve used this very same concept as much as anyone else, in fact maybe more so, but that still brings me no closer to knowing exactly who “they” are.  Have you ever tried to visually conceive in your mind’s eye what these mysterious characters must look like or if they even exist?  …wait just a dog gone minute. How can I think such a thing?  “They” must exist for how could a single word uttered at one time or another by every human on the planet, past and present, not dwell somewhere in this vast universe?

I sometimes wonder if “they” are a group of crabby old men who’s sole purpose is to confuse people such as myself who have nothing better to do than to baffle the human race by adding the term “they” into our lives.  Or could they be a panel of wise aliens sitting around a futuristic semicircle clothed in shrouds of mystery engaging our thought processes to a higher level?  Actually the more I think about it, the more I’m inclined to believe that, “they,” is nothing more than the easiest word to use when describing a collective opinion.

As far as being able to link this subject in some way with the art of writing, I will spare you an attempt to create some brilliant metaphor and say the best way to blend the two together is to say that what you have read, has been written.

At least I think that’s what “they” would say.

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