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El Lethason Ducache (Fantastic story)

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  • Аннотация:
    This story is like a mirror in which is a reflection of humanity. Read and enjoy! You won't regret spending your time doing so. Its easy to read, having adressed today's heaviest problems with the use of humour. You may think it to be a funny anecdote, but pondering upon it will reveal the metaphor hidden within.

  Holder Volcano
  Member of the Writers' Union of Uzbekistan
  
  
  
   El Lethason Ducache
   (Fantastic story)
  
  
  
   An independent astronomer, Mr. Lethason Ducache, invented a unique radio telescope and, in order to establish contact with extraterrestrial civilizations, sent a radio signal into space with a message on behalf of humanity.
   To make the text of the message easier to decipher, he wrote using pictures resembling cave paintings drawn by primitive people.
  
   The transcript of the letter was something like this:
  
   - I want this radio signal to fly across the expanses of the universe, through meteorites, asteroids and reach intelligent beings of extraterrestrial origin who live in other constellations. Assalamu alaikum, dear aliens, humanoids, that is, little green men! How are you? Are you all flying to neighboring galaxies and nebulae in your flying saucers in search of work and a piece of bread? I apologize for the poor handwriting, as I am writing this letter by moonlight. Because the authorities turned off the lights in order to save electricity. I have only one request. Please let me know as soon as you receive our message. Otherwise, we earthlings are very worried about you. Contact us and do not hesitate if you need our help in the field of social protection of your planet's population or in military terms. We are always ready to help you and develop trade and economic cooperation with you on a priority basis. For example, we only need nickel to produce supersonic three-stage intergalactic cruise missiles with nuclear warheads. I recently invented a top-secret weapon that can blow up not only entire galaxies, but the entire universe. We also overheard that you don't have fertile land on your planet like we do. Also, air and water are expensive, as they say, their weight is gold. Don't worry too much about this, alien gentlemen. Come as soon as possible. We will sell you our land, air and water at a reasonable price. Almost for free. We have a lot of water! We will load the soil of our planet into your flying freight trains, (unbeknownst to humanity, of course) organizing the shipment of the priceless cargo to the right place. You can take away the earth's soil, water and air as much as you want. As long as they pay more. We will agree on the price and discount.
  
   With utmost respect, your humble servant, the great scientist -astronomer, Chairman of the Union of Writers and Academics of the Universe, Mr. Lethason Ducache .
  
   When sending humanity's messages in the form of petroglyphs into the boundless cosmos through a radio telescope, El Lethason Ducache himself did not believe that anyone would ever respond to them.
   But no, a few weeks later there was a response to the radio signal, and after deciphering the text of the reply in the form of pictures and a drawing, El Lethason Ducache stiffened with fear.
  
   The decrypted text of the letter looked something like this:
  
   - Va alaikum assalam, earthlings and a great scientist-astronaut, chairman of the Union of Writers and Academics of the Universe, Mr. Lethason Ducache! We have received your messages! After our experts performed a graphological analysis and deciphered the text of your message, we could not control our laughter. We laughed so hard that our bladder almost burst. Then, barely suppressing our laughter, we came to a consensus and decided to inform you that we aliens do not intend to have any relations with you, that is, with Earthlings. Strange. Do you earthlings even think with your head when you write such letters to someone? After reading your messages, we began to doubt that you Earthlings have heads on your shoulders. It seems to us that you don't have heads on your shoulders, but rather an hollow tumour that needs to be surgically removed. The question is: What the hell do we care about your polluted air, off-scale levels of radiation, and the soil of your filthy planet, packed with extremely dangerous toxic chemicals such as pesticides and herbicides? The scariest thing is that you call the poison you drink water, which you consume every day, miraculously staying alive? Oh, my God, how awful! Thank God that we aren't crazy enough to buy your so-called ocean and sea water, where you dispose of harmful substances from chemical plants and factories, and secretly bury radioactive waste, spent nuclear fuel, and man-made radionuclides. So, gentlemen of the Earth! You will immediately change your name. Because you are not people, but some kind of scary, evil being unknown to science! You fight among yourselves, as if with your own reflection in a mirror, violating the territorial integrity of independent countries, throwing millions of young soldiers and officers into the meat grinder of war, killing innocent people, the elderly and children, destroying infrastructure, razing cities to the ground, turning the country's economy into a swamp of international sanctions, which turn people into refugees, threatening each other with nuclear war! You are a monster, a suicide bomber, a kamikaze! These names are just right for you! We thought for a long time, then we came to the consensus that the best way to rid the universe of you is to destroy your planet, before you start polluting neighboring galaxies with radioactive nuclides from your antediluvian spaceships and stations and start an aggressive war, threatening with your so-called secret weapons with which you can blow up not only entire galaxies, but also the whole universe. We have already launched our state-of-the-art intergalactic cruise missiles with atomic warheads, which will fly to your Globe in an hour and destroy you along with your planet, blowing you to smithereens; turning you into poisonous ashes!
  
   Sincerely, the press secretary of the president of the planet of green humanoid men, Comrade Bibon Bibon Jiblajibon.
   After reading this, the great scientist -astronomer, chairman of the Union of Writers and Academics of the Universe, Mr. El Lethason Ducache , ran out of his hut and began shouting at the top of his voice: - People! Save yourselves who can! Run to the bomb shelter now! The humanoids of the neighboring galaxy have declared war on us! In an hour, the interplanetary cruise missiles with nuclear warheads that the aliens have launched will arrive! They intend to turn us into nuclear ashes!
   Hearing his words, people started laughing, thinking he was drunk. After some time, local police officers detained him. Then an ambulance arrived with a psychiatric team from the central madhouse of the capital. After examining the detainee, they immediately diagnosed him with Schizophrenia and put him into a straitjacket.
   "What are you doing, you bastards?" I'm perfectly healthy! Let me go now! I'm telling the truth! In an hour, ultra-modern three-stage interplanetary cruise missiles with nuclear warheads launched by aliens will arrive! In an hour, do you hear, in an hour! Lethason Ducache shouted, struggling with the doctors.
   The doctors pushed him into an ambulance and the doctor politely said, "Don't worry, my dear... What should I call you? Oh, El Lethason Ducache? So, El Lethason Ducache , don't you worry right now. Yes, we believe you. But, there is a completely different time and other dimensions in space. That is, millions of years will pass on our planet before the alien cruise missiles arrive. So don't worry so much about insignificant things, Mr. Patient.
   After these words of the doctor, the great scientist -astronomer, chairman of the Union of Writers and Academics of the Universe, Mr. El Lethason Ducache began to shout: - Bibon Bibon! Jiblajibon! Bibon Bibon! Jiblajibon!
  
  
  
   23/09/2023.
   12:05 a.m.
   Canada, Ontario.
  
  
  

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