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Saturday, March 18, 2017

Things to Know About the Aliens Before They Get Here- Jason Parent Guest Post

*Sharon's opinion: This is probably one of the most brilliant guest posts I've read...Jason Parent used 119 movie titles to write it!

Things to Know About the Aliens Before They Get Here

Aliens: on the day of their Arrival, after Star Trekking 20 Million Miles to Earth—the day that Mars Attacks—the Skyline will light up like Independence Day, so you best be ready. The Battle in Outer Space will be short-lived. Sure, there’ll be Fire in the Sky down to The Last Starfighter, but when The Creeping Terror comes from The Angry Red Planet, you’ll hope you had seen the Signs, heard The Signal, or heeded the Silent Warnings in time to hide in a Cocoon or Slither into an Abyss and avoid Battlefield Earth.

Those bastard Invaders from Mars, those filthy Critters, may say, “I Come in Peace,” but that’s bullshit. Morons from Outer Space don’t go on a Galaxy Quest, journey through endless Dark Skies, just to throw a Pajama Party. No sir, The Invasion spells Doom! The Alien Raiders will be one (or more) of three things: Grabbers, Feeders, or Breeders.

The first, Grabbers, leave me with a Bad Taste. With them, you can expect an Alien Abduction complete with Dark Crystal, Conehead-ed anal Explorers (Batteries Not Included) implanting Pod People up your rectum or Under the Skin, and then its “Welcome to the Space Show, watch now in TerrorVision.” Your Life is over. Those Body Snatchers will make you and your friends their Muppets—from Space Viruses or parasites Not of this Earth. Better hope you don’t get Infected from that Invasion. You’ll be an Imposter in your own skin, your friends Altered into Decoys, The Hosts to The Hidden within them. And they’ll call it Evolution, baby!

Next, there’s the Feeders: The Thing with these Predators is that they ain’t always about turning you into Space Jam. Nope, sometimes they eat you in other ways, e.g., draining your Lifeforce. They Live for that sort of shit.

Third, the Breeders. Ugh. It’s not all Flesh Gordon Meets the Cosmic Cheerleaders, Flying Saucer Rock’n’Roll (or Heavy Metal, if you prefer), or Have Rocket, Will Travel, if you catch my drift. More like Night of the Creeps. Simply put: Interstellar romances are a bad idea. Cowboys and Aliens just don’t mix. I blame the guy who wrote that Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Earth Girls Are Easy? Really? He had to tell the universe that? Get knocked up and try finding a Doctor Who will take that out of you.

And men, don’t be swinging your Spaceballs so soon. Not unless you want to be dragged through a Stargate and end up Lost in Space, Stranded in Pitch Black with some Devil Girl from Mars’ butt-ugly Progeny, just another one of The Forgotten, Nowhere in a whole Galaxy of Terror. You can ask any Dude, “Where’s My Car,” but you ain’t never gonna find that S.O.B.

Worse still, after a night high on Liquid Sky, taken to sweet Oblivion by whatever The Visitor sells you on, you’ll wake up to find that your Princess of Mars is really a Blob oozing Green Slime from orifices you didn’t know existed and seated at your table on her 5th Wave of pancakes, a swarm of Illegal Aliens just waiting to eat through her skin and call you “Daddy.” What are you going to tell the guys at work, huh? “Hey Paul, I Married a Monster from Outer Space?” And all for what? A Super 8 minute on her Forbidden Planet.

Still, there’s another type, The Fourth Kind, that goes without saying: Evil Alien Conquerors. These Starship Troopers want to start The War of the Worlds or even bring on the Alien Apocalypse. At The World’s End, at least as the few straggling survivors know it, we’ll have become an Alien Nation. In short, these guys are dicks.

So when the Alien Hunters Attack the Block you live on, will you run around like Chicken Little or hide under a Dune, waiting for the Men in Black to come save you? Or, Knowing what they’re all about, will you buck up, Buckaroo Bonzai, act like Real Men do, and use every Faculty at your disposal to become a Suburban Commando, maybe help Mom and Dad Save the World? In The Darkest Hour our nation will ever know, we must fight the Outlanders, tell those Martians, “Go Home” or else make them the Ghosts of Mars.

Be ready, my friends, before the assholes of Alien Species Target Earth (a three-movie string, thank you).

P.S. – Killer Klowns from Outer Space

by Jason Parent
March 15, 2017
327 pages
All life comes from the sun. Sometimes, death comes with it.

Filled with hope and compelled by fear, four would-be heroes are driven from their home planet in a desperate bid to save their civilization from extinction. But survival takes on a whole new meaning when a malfunction sends their ship plummeting toward Earth.

Surviving the crash is only the first obstacle on their path to salvation. The marooned aliens soon discover that Earth’s beautiful exterior masks an ugly foundation, a place inhabited by a warrior race that’s on a path toward self-destruction.

Brimming with action and intrigue, People of the Sun is sure to entice fans of dark fantasy and sci-fi thrillers such as Watchmen and I Am Number Four.

"Jason Parent has penned a thought-provoking, gripping scifi thriller. This isn't your grandma's alien invasion. My own world stopped the moment I stepped into People of the Sun. Lovers of science fiction, horror and even super heroes will revel in this roller-coaster of a tale. A true must-read!" Hunter Shea, author of We Are Always Watching and The Jersey Devil

“With his own indelible blend of tension and dark humor, Jason Parent’s latest page-turner reminds me of what you’d get if you crossed Isaac Asimov with Kurt Vonnegut. In addition to being fast-paced and wildly entertaining, Parent’s novel also offers the occasional flash of insight into the human (and not-so-human) condition, and displays Parent’s talent for turning a given genre on its head.” -Michael Meyerhofer, author of The Dragonkin Trilogy.

About the Author:
In his head, Jason Parent lives in many places, but in the real world, he calls New England his home. The region offers an abundance of settings for his writing and many wonderful places in which to write them. He currently resides in Southeastern Massachusetts with his cuddly corgi named Calypso.

In a prior life, Jason spent most of his time in front of a judge . . . as a civil litigator. When he finally tired of Latin phrases no one knew how to pronounce and explaining to people that real lawsuits are not started, tried and finalized within the 60-minute timeframe they see on TV (it's harassing the witness; no one throws vicious woodland creatures at them), he traded in his cheap suits for flip flops and designer stubble. The flops got repossessed the next day, and he's back in the legal field . . . sorta. But that's another story.

When he's not working, Jason likes to kayak, catch a movie, travel any place that will let him enter, and play just about any sport (except that ball tied to the pole thing where you basically just whack the ball until it twists in a knot or takes somebody's head off - he misses the appeal). And read and write, of course. He does that too sometimes.