Globalists—let’s call them GloboMarxists for accuracy—have a charming habit of inventing existential threats whenever their previous ones lose steam. Climate change was supposed to drown us all by Tuesday. Instead, the seas stayed put, the polar bears kept breeding, and the models quietly adjusted their apocalypse timelines into the next century. COVID was the sequel: lock everyone down, print endless money, and centralize power under the wise guidance of suit-wearing bureaucrats who couldn’t organize a two-car funeral. That one fizzled too, leaving only lingering distrust and a mountain of unused vaccines.
So now comes the alien card. Nothing says “surrender your sovereignty” like mysterious lights in the sky and breathless claims of interstellar visitors who somehow always forget to leave a forwarding address. The pitch writes itself: Earth is ancient—4.5 billion years old, give or take a few hundred million—yet the nearest potentially habitable world, Kepler-443b, sits a cozy 2,540 light-years away. In all that vast, empty stretch of nothing, not one radio chirp, not one rusty probe, not one tourist brochure from another civilization has turned up. Silence is golden when you’re selling fear.
The beauty of the alien gambit is its perfect elasticity. No data required. No falsifiable claims. Just enough grainy footage and anonymous “whistleblowers” to keep the public distracted while the same old players tighten the screws on borders, speech, and independence. One world government led by the same mediocrities who botched the last two crises? What could possibly go wrong? At least the aliens, if they ever show up, might have better taste in suits.
