“They flew like a saucer would if you skipped it across the water.” Kenneth Arnold had witnessed something blinding in the sky while searching for survivors of a C-46 Marine Transport crash in the Cascade Mountains. A peripheral distraction he couldn’t explain. Little green men were spotted in France. It had grown global! Kenneth determined that extraterrestrials had been visiting the earth, shuttling back and forth, producing outstanding monuments along the way, signposts they would recognize. “How else could the Giza pyramids be explained?” he asked his wife. After dinner, as Barbara washed the dishes, listening to the radio, humming, Kenneth frequently stared into the strange sky, searching for a welkin signpost.
One summer night, he dreamed up the premonition for curing human loneliness. Machines resembling sweet, anodyne sea lions would listen to the forgotten elderly, watching them tell stories they were sure no one else cared to hear. Electric eyes, dark and thickly lashed, would follow the aged and infirm as if they were sensate, communicating a safe and kind consciousness beneath slow blinks. Over Barbara’s scrambled eggs, Kenneth explained that the extraterrestrials will build these machines, the panacea to human frailty. He shouted, “They’ll eradicate our loneliness! We will all feel loved!”