It seems more likely that there would be aliens than there wouldn't

Like life, man, life totally just grew out of the amino acids and polykamelbonates that were formed by the heat and the minerals man, and there’s heat and minerals out there, man, so why–I mean, why can’t there be life out there, man?! But, I mean, if the ratio of basic elements in the universe had been just a little different, alright, there would be no life at all, man…I mean, like, instead of 54 parts nitrogen to every freaky neuro-atom thingie man, there were, like…um…53, we’d be screwed, man! And like Drake, man…Drake’s numbers man! Just listen to the space, man.

Aliens, man?! Yah sure, I mean, maybe–man, this one’s deep. Where’d that beat poet go, man, he was trippy!

Paging Dr. Sagan…Paging Dr. Sagan… Dr. Sagan please pick up courtesy phone 2 for urgent call.
<Slight time delay>
CS: This is Dr. Sagan.
Operator: Dr. Sagan? Please hold I’ll connect you.
<Slight time delay>
Operator: Go ahead Mr. Strieber.
WS: Thank you operator. Carl?
CS: <Groans audibly> Yeah Whit.
WS: Carl, it happened again! I was on a camping trip in New Mexico. I had set up my tent and gone to bed and had fallen sound asleep when these bright lights woke me up, except I couldn’t move, it was like I was paralyzed and…
CS: Whit, how many times must I tell you, it is highly unlikely and you were undoubtedly dreaming.
WS: Carl, I’m telling you, this shit really happened, the strange pale faced people appeared again only this time it was different, I was…
CS: You know Whit, you call two, three times a week with this shit, and it’s always something different, like last time when they stuck a fish up your penis when you were vacationing in the Amazon, I mean really…
WS: Hey, that really happened, I got pictures to prove it!
CS: It just proved that you shouldn’t have pissed in the river, you numb skull.
WS: I don’t care what Cecil said, that fish felt incredibly alien.
CS: Yeah? Well it wasn’t, it was terrestrial.
WS: Yeah exactly, extraterrestrial!
CS: No, more like aqua-terrestrial.
WS: Carl, give me a break, this time I have real evidence.
CS: Uh-huh, and what is it this time? Half a tan, like when you were abducted falling asleep at a tanning salon? Or a chip implant like when you got accidentally knocked out and abducted at the Pringles factory?
WS: Come on Carl, you know all those things happened, I can’t understand why you reject all my evidence like that.
CS: Because so far all your evidence has been explained away, they saw you fall into the potato chip storage bin for crying out loud.
WS: Carl, you know those guys work for the government.
CS: Here we go again, the government conspiracy theory.
WS: Carl, you know that shit’s for real.
CS: Whit, I don’t have time for this.
WS: Okay, okay, hear me out. There is no way you’re going to doubt this evidence.
CS: Okay Whit, what is it.
<Short silence>
WS: I’m pregnant.
<Long silence>
CS: Come again?
WS: I’m pregnant!
CS: Whit, you’ve got a doozy this time. How have you come to that conclusion?
WS: When I was abducted last night, they stuck a probe through my belly and injected me with an alien embryo.
CS: Wow Whit, have you been smoking something?
WS: I’m serious Carl, it really happened and that’s not all…I can feel the baby inside me.

<Long silence>

CS: Uh-huh. Tell me Whit, you mentioned you were in New Mexico, did you sample any local food?
WS: Why yes, I had a great big bowl of chili and some refried beans, why do you ask?
CS: Sounds like bowel movement to me. Where in New Mexico are you?
WS: The four corners, in the Navajo nation.
CS: I see, and did the locals treat you to anything special?
WS: Well, they invited me to join in a peace pipe ceremony.
CS: I see, and did the peace pipe taste like tobacco?
WS: No, it had a peculiar flavor.
CS: Peyote. Whit, you were dreaming and if I’m not mistaken you’ll be giving birth some time this morning and I think you’ll find your baby will be far from alien.
WS: Carl, I’m telling you, this shit really happened.
CS: Whit, I’m hanging up now.
WS: Carl…
CS: Bye Whit.
WS: Carl, don’t…

<Click>

Paging Dr. Sagan…Paging Dr. Sagan… Dr. Sagan please pick up courtesy phone 2 for urgent call.
<Slight time delay>
CS: This is Dr. Sagan.
Operator: Dr. Sagan? Please hold I’ll connect you.
<Slight time delay>
Operator: Go ahead Mr. Strieber.
WS: Thank you operator. Carl?
CS: <Groans audibly> Yeah Whit.
WS: Carl, it happened again! I was on a camping trip in New Mexico. I had set up my tent and gone to bed and had fallen sound asleep when these bright lights woke me up, except I couldn’t move, it was like I was paralyzed and…
CS: Whit, how many times must I tell you, it is highly unlikely and you were undoubtedly dreaming.
WS: Carl, I’m telling you, this shit really happened, the strange pale faced people appeared again only this time it was different, I was…
CS: You know Whit, you call two, three times a week with this shit, and it’s always something different, like last time when they stuck a fish up your penis when you were vacationing in the Amazon, I mean really…
WS: Hey, that really happened, I got pictures to prove it!
CS: It just proved that you shouldn’t have pissed in the river, you numb skull.
WS: I don’t care what Cecil said, that fish felt incredibly alien.
CS: Yeah? Well it wasn’t, it was terrestrial.
WS: Yeah exactly, extraterrestrial!
CS: No, more like aqua-terrestrial.
WS: Carl, give me a break, this time I have real evidence.
CS: Uh-huh, and what is it this time? Half a tan, like when you were abducted falling asleep at a tanning salon? Or a chip implant like when you got accidentally knocked out and abducted at the Pringles factory?
WS: Come on Carl, you know all those things happened, I can’t understand why you reject all my evidence like that.
CS: Because so far all your evidence has been explained away, they saw you fall into the potato chip storage bin for crying out loud.
WS: Carl, you know those guys work for the government.
CS: Here we go again, the government conspiracy theory.
WS: Carl, you know that shit’s for real.
CS: Whit, I don’t have time for this.
WS: Okay, okay, hear me out. There is no way you’re going to doubt this evidence.
CS: Okay Whit, what is it.
<Short silence>
WS: I’m pregnant.
<Long silence>
CS: Come again?
WS: I’m pregnant!
CS: Whit, you’ve got a doozy this time. How have you come to that conclusion?
WS: When I was abducted last night, they stuck a probe through my belly and injected me with an alien embryo.
CS: Wow Whit, have you been smoking something?
WS: I’m serious Carl, it really happened and that’s not all…I can feel the baby inside me.

<Long silence>

CS: Uh-huh. Tell me Whit, you mentioned you were in New Mexico, did you sample any local food?
WS: Why yes, I had a great big bowl of chili and some refried beans, why do you ask?
CS: Sounds like bowel movement to me. Where in New Mexico are you?
WS: The four corners, in the Navajo nation.
CS: I see, and did the locals treat you to anything special?
WS: Well, they invited me to join in a peace pipe ceremony.
CS: I see, and did the peace pipe taste like tobacco?
WS: No, it had a peculiar flavor.
CS: Peyote. Whit, you were dreaming and if I’m not mistaken you’ll be giving birth some time this morning and I think you’ll find your baby will be far from alien.
WS: Carl, I’m telling you, this shit really happened.
CS: Whit, I’m hanging up now.
WS: Carl…
CS: Bye Whit.
WS: Carl, don’t…

<Click> **
[/QUOTE]

NiceGuy,

Very funny, and entirely relevant to the probability of visitations, but some might argue slightly irrelevant to the subject of probability of life in the universe, somewhere.

I’d love to see a thread on the former - I bet it would be quite funny - I bet it’s been done a thousand times on the SDMB (need to do a search…)

Well, awhile back I was trying to figure out what Aliens were. I mean, you look at them and you think that they’re from some other planet. Yet, if you really look at them, they sort of have a humanistic form. This means one of two things: If they do exsist, they aren’t from a different planet, but from a different time. If they don’t exsist, we’re just trying to freak ourselves out with a “spooky” story and we figure that’s a spooky looking creature. Of course, since we’re rather stupid by nature, anything smarter than us is something to fear. But thinking of the point that they might just be “us” from a different time, that’s got possiblity. I mean, if we travel around in space, what happens? Our bodies start getting weaker from bone loss. Well, if we lose a bunch of bone (but enough to still hold in the marrow), we’d look kinda scrawny. And now begins my theory, so have fun with it.

We’re in the process of developing technology that’s obviously in use by these advanced creatures. They’ve got rather large heads, small mouths, big black eyes, doesn’t seem like they have ears, but who needs ears when you’ve got telepathy? Who needs strong bodies when you’ve got telekinesis? Well, now, I’m one who likes to only see to believe, so I don’t really believe people have these powers on their own. No, instead, I believe that we’ll figure out all the neural pathways in the brain, have nano-robots running around with chemicals to interact with the brain and simply, a computer mixed in with it all. So from that, you no longer have to worry about being able to talk to people (this means anyone, your own language or not) or for that matter have communication problems with people. You’ll be able to pass along a feeling rather than words (that we all know can come out wrong). Beyond the brain (which would involve having a much larger head than our own) we go to the eyes. The big black eyes, which I feel are nothing more than sunglasses. Blocks out all the harmful rays and lets in whatever you want. Thermal vision? Just think it. Night vision, just think. You’ll also have something called Augumented Reality, which right now takes a backpack and some pretty nifty glasses. But in short, you’ll be able to place labels on objects (or advertisements right into your freaking eyes!) or tell the distance to things, blah blah blah. Moving on to the mouth, it’s just a speaker. It’ll translate into any language and all kinds of fun stuff like that (I suppose if you wanted to sing like a famous person, well, you’ll sing JUST like that person, even with music!). Which then the ears (which I don’t ever remember seeing) would be something of a microphone, no biggie there. But the skin, that’s the coolest stuff I think. Well, again, this is all just my thoughts (and maybe I’ve got too much time on my hands, but it all seems logical to me), but the skin is a highly evolved Space Suit. If you think of how big and combersome the space suits of today are, think about just going for a dip in a vat of gel and you come out, take a few seconds to dry, and WHAM! You’ve got a space suit! It’d have to be some sort of a nano-robotic kinda thing. I haven’t figured all this out folks, so don’t go looking to me for answers, but ya get the idea?

So ya, all in all, I think if these things really do exsist, there’s nothing to worry about really. In fact, maybe you should try and piss one off, see if they kill you. I mean, if my theory is correct, they’d screw up the whole space-time-continuum thing.

But again, not to take this all seriously, I mean, I’m just another nut writing what I think. Thanks for reading though.

Excuse me for not putting this in verse, but I think that intelligent life somewhere else exists, and the first clue is that they refuse to contact us.

We could always take the Douglas Adams approach from The Restaurant at the End of the Universe:

[quote]
One of the major selling point of that wholly remarkable travel book, the Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, apart from its relative cheapness and the fact that it has the words Don’t Panic written in large friendly letters on its cover, is its compendious and occasionally accurate glossary. The statistics relating to the geo-social nature of the Universe, for instance, are deftly set out between pages nine hundred and thirty-eight thousand and twenty-four and nine hundred and thirty-eight thousand and twenty-six; and the simplistic style in which they are written is partly explained by the fact that the editors, having to meet a publishing deadline, copied the information off the back of a packet of breakfast cereal, hastily embroidering it with a few footnoted in order to avoid prosecution under the incomprehensibly tortuous Galactic Copyright laws.

It is interesting to note that a later and wilier editor sent the book backwards in time through a temporal warp, and then successfully sued the breakfast cereal company for infringement of the same laws.

Here is a sample:

The Universe - some information to help you live in it.

1~Area: Infinite.

The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy offers this definition of the word ‘‘Infinite’’.

Infinite: Bigger than the biggest thing ever and then some. Much bigger than that in fact, really amazingly immense, a totally stunning size, ‘‘wow, that’s big’’, time. Infinity is just so big that by comparison, bigness itself looks really titchy. Gigantic multiplied by colossal multiplied by staggeringly huge is the sort of concept we’re trying to get across here.

2~Imports: None.

It is impossible to import things into an infinite area, there being no outside to import things in from.

3~Exports: None.

See imports.

4~Population: None.

It is known that there are an infinite number of worlds, simply because there is an infinite amount of space for them to be in. However, not every one of them is inhabited. Therefore, there must be a finite number of inhabited worlds. Any finite number divided by infinity is as near to nothing as makes no odds, so the average population of all the planets in the Universe can be said to be zero. From this it follows that the population of the whole Universe is also zero, and that any people you may meet from time to time are merely the products of a deranged imagination.

5~Monetary Units: None.

In fact there are three freely convertible currencies in the Galaxy, but none of them count. The Altairan Dollar has recently collapsed, the Flaninian Pobble Bead is only exchangeable for other Flaninian Pobble Beads, and the Triganic Pu has its own very special problems. Its exchange rate of eight Ningis to one Pu is simple enough, but since a Ningi is a triangular rubber coin six thousand eight hundred miles across each side, no one has ever collected enough to own one Pu. Ningis are not negotiable currency because the Galactibanks refuse to deal in fiddling small change. From this basic premise it is very simple to prove that the Galactibanks are also the product of a deranged imagination.

6~Art: None.

The function of art is to hold the mirror up to nature, and there simply isn’t a mirror big enough - see point one.

7~Sex: None.

Well, in fact there is an awful lot of this, largely because of the total lack of money, trade, banks, art, or anything else that might keep all the non-existent people of the Universe occupied.

However, it is not worth embarking on a long discussion of it now because it really is terribly complicated. For further information see Guide Chapters seven, nine, ten, eleven, fourteen, sixteen, seventeen, nineteen, twenty-one to eighty-four inclusive, and in fact most of the rest of the Guide.

There once were two profs from UW-Sea
With the names of Ward and Brownlee
It gave them no mirth
To write a book called “Rare Earth”
Where they said, “Star Wars bar? Just can’t be.”

One, our moon does protect
From asteroids that try us to wreck.
And the gas giants assist
to stave off any blitz
of missiles that’d pound us to heck.

Two, we’re in a nice 'hood;
Our position in the galaxy’s good.
Too far in, we’d be singed;
Too far out, unhinged,
And we’d fly apart like chipped wood.

For these reasons and many more
They’ve revised Drake’s little score.
Life? You bet.
But smart? Not yet.
So we’re all alone, and we’re bored.

Extrapolating from Descartes:

I think there are aliens,
therefore, there am aliens.

  • Dan

Did anyone else see or hear of the book Rare Earth? It was quite controversial when it came out, being featured on “Nightline,” and it flies in the face of what the Planetary Society says. It should be a part of this discussion.

It’s impossible to say, as we have no idea how unlikely the events that lead to life on our planet are since we don’t know how exactly it happened. The universe is finite in size and age and it’s entirely possible that biogenesis has only occurred once and on one planet.

I would LIKE there to be life on other planets, but I accept the possibility that there isn’t.

I think this has been conclusively ruled out by the highly accurate and informative Fox “Alien Autopsy” footage. The only thing they were pulling out of that alien was a bunch of cold-cuts.

Signed,

-Hev E. Sarcasm:D

I would join in this debate,
But alas I seem too late,
Such evidence has been laid,
All my arguments already made,
Besides, my verse is bad

[nitpick]Galaxies contain on the order billions to hundreds of billions of stars.[/nitpick]

Of course, gobear’s point still stands. We know far to little about the genesis and evolution of life to determine whether it is a common process in the Universe, or a vanishingly rare occurrence.

Earth is infested.
The rest of the Universe,
Pristine or teeming?

Given the extremes that bacteria have been shown to live in (eg undersea volcanoes) and given the huge numbers of stars in the galaxy, I think it’s fairly probable that extra-terrestrial life exists.

However. Those who believe that intelligent extra-terrestrial life exists in the Milky Way Galaxy must contend with the
Fermi Paradox. (Another helpful phrase to type into google.)

It’s not quite that fast. If you can keep a steady acceleration of 9.81 m/s/s, it would take 353 days, 16 hours, 51 minutes, and 24 seconds to reach the speed of light.

OK, I’m bored and I calculated it out, sue me.

Anyway, 1 month at 1G would only get you 1/12 of the way to the speed of light and that’s not nearly close enough for any relitivistic effects.

I once met an alien,
he was very green;
I tried to say hello,
but instead he got mean

I tried to be a diplomat
and represent my planet;
but my words were misunderstood,
and he made a face as cold as granite

He took out his gun
and shoved it in my face;
he pulled on the trigger,
and now I am just dust in space

:smiley:
Thanks to WenisPinkle for help on that profound work of literature.

Ender, you obviously used a straight Newtonian calculation, since a relativistic calculation wouldn’t result in a velocity of c from acceleration EVER. What I’ve always found interesting is that relativity doesn’t ‘make’ intersteller travel more difficult; even with Newtonian mechanics, just getting up to c is pretty difficult, and getting up to SF levels of FTL (like ‘light years per day’ speeds) is damn near impossible. With things like fusion drives, even getting up to .3c is not realistic.

Accelerating to relativistic speeds and decelerating from them is actually pretty hard to do. You pretty much have to use an external ‘drive’ (like a laser in one star system to push you, and a magnetic sail to decellerate) because even with a perfectly efficient drive, you start having to carry an absurd amount of fuel for your acceleration/decelleration (we’re talking 1000 times the mass of your ship in fuel levels of absurdity). The problem with a typical rocket is that not only do you have to accelerate the ship, you’ve got to accelerate the fuel. The fuel required to accelerate the fuel quickly becomes dominant, and you require an exponential increase in fule for a linear increase in deltavee.

Good lord yes. I’m bored, but not THAT bored. Still, until any major relavatistic changes occur, the times will be mostly the same with either calculation.
Not to mention that, to the person in the spaceship, it will see as if it takes 353 (etc) days to hit c.
As for how one retains a constant acceleration of 9.81 m/s/s, well…I leave that as an excercise for the reader.

Announcer: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to radio station EXP. Tonight we are featuring an interview with a very peculiar looking gentleman who goes by the name of Mr. Paul Corusoe on the dodgy subject of are there or are there not flying saucers or …ahem… UFOs? Please Mr. Corusoe, please could you give us your regarded opinion on this nonsense about spaceships and even space people?

Mr. Corusoe: Thank you. As you well know you just can’t believe everything you see and hear, can you? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must be on my way.

Announcer: Bu…but, but…gulb…I, I, don’t belive it!

Mr. Corusoe: Pffffttt!!..Pop!!..Bang!!..Etc???

Words and Music by Jimi Hendrix
Copyright ©1968 by Hendrix Experience, L.L.C.