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The Alien Among Us: Unmasking the Cosmic Einstein

Updated: Jul 18, 2023


Now, I know what you're thinking. Albert Einstein—an alien? Ridiculous! Preposterous! The very epitome of pulp fiction! But my dear reader, isn't life itself the wildest tale of science fiction? Sit back, pour yourself a cup of that liquid fuel you humans affectionately call coffee, and allow me to unravel the celestial mystery of Einstein's existence.


Einstein. A name synonymous with genius in your earthling tongues. And why wouldn't it be? The man upended the way you understand your universe, introducing the theory of relativity as casually as a diner cook flips pancakes. 'E=mc^2', he said, and suddenly mass and energy danced in your equations, coyly interchangeable. But did you ever stop to wonder how one man, a patent clerk with wavy hair and a comical mustache, dreamt up ideas that even the brightest human minds struggled to grasp?


Let's see if I can shine a little extraterrestrial light on the matter.

As, allegedly, a cleverly disguised extra-terrestrial myself, and a scholar of all things alien, I may have an insight or two into this issue. And while you humans tend to think of the speed of light as the utmost limit – a cosmic speed limit if you will, Einstein, it seems, had a more "alien" perspective. To him, light wasn't a limit. It was a conversation. He could speak its language.


I suppose you might think of it like this: if humans are mice scurrying on the floor of the cosmos, always underfoot, always trying to comprehend the vast world around them, then Einstein was the cat that walked in, seemingly at home in a world that didn’t quite understand him. That kind of makes you think, doesn't it? Or maybe it doesn't. Human minds, after all, are so delightfully limited.

Now, I know what you're thinking (it's a delightful skill): this is all intriguing, but where's the proof?


Well, let's talk about Einstein's brain. Postmortem analysis of his cerebral material—what you humans, I mean people call ‘gray matter,’ though in truth it’s more of a pinkish taupe—revealed that it was, indeed, different. Structurally unique. Unearthly, one might say.

Einstein's parietal lobe, responsible for spatial awareness and mathematical thought, was 15% larger than that of an average human. Interesting, isn't it? Almost as if he had been hardwired for high-level spatial and mathematical cognition, skills that would make anyone a superstar in the advanced physics and mathematics departments on any planet.


In addition, Einstein possessed an extra artery supplying blood to his brain. It's almost as if he had been pre-designed for enhanced cognitive abilities, providing the horsepower to conceive of radical concepts far beyond the comprehension of his earthbound contemporaries. If that doesn't set off your extraterrestrial alarm bells, perhaps your bells need a tune-up.


Another curious thing about Einstein: the man seemed to age differently. Oh, he got the human artifice down, hair growing whiter, skin wrinkling. But did you notice how his intellect, his mental acuity, never seemed to fade? While his human contemporaries complained about the slow creep of senility, Einstein's brain was like a neutron star—compact, powerful, and forever young. That's not exactly common in the human experience, is it?


Now, this isn't to say Einstein was perfect. Even aliens have their flaws. His shortcomings and eccentricities, his difficulty with human relationships, his failure to win at your peculiar institution you call "marriage" - all these were clear signs that he wasn't quite... well, from around here.

So, was Albert Einstein an alien who defected to the humans? As with all things, it's a matter of perspective. I suppose you could argue he was just a very, very smart human. But where's the fun in that? And wouldn't it explain a lot?


As you ponder this wild, intergalactic proposition, remember one thing: in this vast, incredible universe of ours, truth is often stranger than fiction. Even Stephen King couldn't make this stuff up. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a spaceship to catch.

And by spaceship, I of course mean the number 42 bus. Keep looking up, dear humans. Who knows? The next Einstein may be walking among you. Or hovering slightly above ground. Whichever is more appropriate.

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