“Fellow scientists,” I began. One of the marine biologists in the back suddenly stood up and stormed out. This turned quite a few heads, and added to the tension in the room. Beads of sweat rolled down the side of my face. I steadied my hand and reached for the microphone. I cleared my throat again, and looked up at my colleagues. “I come to you today with perhaps the greatest scientific find since the discovery of fire,” I started, my voice shaky. I reached down into the depths of my brain to think about how I could articulate this properly. I thought briefly about those who had died to make sure I could give this speech, to tell the people the truth.
“Boo! Get off the stage!” shouted one of my former friends, Professor Brod Meieny. Brod never could accept new ideas. His arrogance would be his downfall in the New Order.
“Get off the stage!”
“Let him speak,” interjected Nuñez Griffin. Nuñez was one of the few older scientists able to understand the complexity of every situation. It made him formidable, and a champion chess player. He even beat the deplorable “Deep Puddle” supercomputer. But no one would be able to stomach the unbearable news I had to deliver.
“My study began over ten years ago,” I started once again, ignoring all interruptions. “I had just completed a course on macroeconomic applications to biological morphology, when I suddenly thought to myself, 'why is it so hard to reconcile religion and science?' So I set out to prove, scientifically, which religion is the one true faith. And my finding will change the very foundation of our society.”
I paused to let that sink in. Three scientists got up to leave, Brod among them. No big loss. I picked up the remote to my projector and began the slides.
“As you can see here, this is a map of medieval Europe. Only is wasn't known as 'Europe' back then. It was called 'Earope', due to the fact that Europeans worshiped the ear. Any history book claiming that medieval Europe was predominantly Christian is just plain wrong. This ancient religion of ear-worship ceased around the Renaissance, when it was replaced by numerous Christian sects.”
“That's absurd,” bellowed a cleric near the front of the room. “The people of Europe did not worship the ear.”
“No, Europeans never did. But Earopeans did, as my evidence proves. Take a close look at Stonehenge,” I said as I clicked the Salisbury Plains slide into focus. “Taken from its sides, Stonehenge is nothing more than an astrological calculator. But this aerial photo, when properly enhanced, shows an exact design of the human eardrum.”
Not a single one of them stirred. They all knew it was true. The picture clearly depicted the precise structure of a human ear. The resemblance was uncanny.
Was Stonehenge a giant ear?
“Now naturally, you may be wondering how the art of ear-worship fell out of fashion in Earope, and how this related to my study,” I continued. “You see, the ear religion was peddled on early Europeans by a technologically advanced nation known as 'Atlantis'. Atlantis was a nation-continent, much like Australia. Unlike Australia, Atlantis was situated in the middle of the Atlantic ocean, hence the name 'Atlantis.' We know very little of the Atlantians, only that they were an advanced people who colonized Mars, the Moon, and the Sun, although the solar colony mysteriously disappeared at the exact time it was founded. These Atlantians had an obsession with the human ear, and brought this fixation to primitive Europe. After generations of ear oppression, Europe rebelled by using the Altantians' own technology against them. The entire continent was teleported to the South Pole, and is today known as 'Antarctica.'”
Further outrage. Someone in the back threw a shoe at my head. It missed, but upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a cleat. This was premeditated.
“That's why I began my research by looking into the mythology of the Atlantian ear-god, Aurosis. I began to delve deeper into the nature of human thought and also nanotechnology. It seems that the gods of the Atlantians were real, and they were also highly advanced robots created by nanoscopic machines. Similar to today's animatronic movie puppets. Like Yoda.”
Aurosis, the Atlantian ear-god.
I smiled as I saw the younger geologists writing it all down. This was good research, and the backwards-thinking Brod and his ilk were going to be left behind in the proverbial dust if they didn't want to accept the inevitable conclusions. I just couldn't understand how anyone could hold a grudge against Yoda.
“Of course, the war between Earope and Atlantis resulted in the destruction of the Atlantian culture and brought Christianity to dominance in what was renamed 'Europe.' Then nothing of note happened for a few centuries. The flames of indecision died down, and Atlantis was eventually forgotten. But not forgiven,” I quipped. “The advent of plutonium by British pirates in the 18th century—and yes, I know it sounds strange. But you must believe me, seafaring mariners of the British Empire discovered nuclear fission over 200 years before the Manhattan Project. We discovered fossilized remains of British pirates around the site of an ancient extinct atomic volcano, leading us to believe the pirates got the uranium for their endeavor from Africa.”
18th century British pirates invented plutonium.
I next called up the slide dubbed “Hansel's Breadcrumb” by my assistants.
“Here we see pirate scientists struggling to understand the awesome power of one of the Atlantian gods they accidentally called back to life. Before their lab was destroyed in an explosion of biblical proportions, they managed to preserve all their knowledge on an ancient VHS. It is from this video,” I said grimly, “That we learn the truth about religion and science.”
Pirate scientists awaken an Atlantian god.
Grabbing a dictionary from beneath the podium, I called out, “Lies! All lies! The secret is that all words, all ideas, all thoughts regarding religion and science... it's all meaningless! The entire universe is just a figment of its own imagination. And the sooner we realize that, the sooner we can learn to control the latent psychic—”
“It's a cookbook! A cookbook!”
Nuñez and some of the others I thought I won over abruptly jumped up and shook their fists. Panic ensued, and all the theologians, all the physicists, all the high school gym teachers who attended, everyone just started screaming and bolting for the exit. As I slumped down behind the podium, my failure to convince anyone still a fresh injury, someone ran up to me. “Professor,” I heard her say, quietly, as if finally, my reason and logic had reached a sympathetic ear. “Professor, I just wanted you to know,” she began, “that that was the most idiotic thing I've ever heard in my life. Pirate scientists? Atlantian ear-gods? What's wrong with you?!” And with that, she spat on my lab coat and started to walk out.
Then I exerted my latent psychic abilities on the whole building and everyone who doubted me burst into flames.
Everyone who doubted me burst into flames.