It depends on how much respect you’re looking for, really. I mean, if you just want your friends, family and neighbours to respect you then it should be pretty easy.
From what I can see, your smaller primate groupings here on Earth tend to respect strength of character, kindness and consideration of others. So for starters, stop acting like a pretentious wanker, insufferable know-it-all, or complete douchebag. (People usually lose respect for individuals for one of those reasons.)
But if you’re looking for respect from a larger grouping of primitive hominids (that’s you, humans) — let’s say from the size of a corporation up to the size of a nation — this will require power too.
For my money, nothing says power like a phalanx of Über-Chimps decked out in gold spandex and helmets that look like the business end of a whale phallus. Oh, and they have to be toting plasma weapons too, or the look just doesn’t work. Unfortunately, all your backwards planet seems to think plasma is good for making televisions show crappy content in higher definition.
So, give your primitive technology I’d start building a thermonuclear weapon right now, and some kind of delivery system. (No one would expect a llama.)
My advice is to test it on a holiday weekend for maximum impact.
Next Time: I’ve read somewhere that time dilates near the event horizon of a black hole. Does that feel anything like my early morning Intro to Psychology class?
Alltop is a singularity of humor. Originally published, oh, let’s say … before.
Many believe the term stems from the dog-like appearance of the seal, while others claim it is grizzled old sailors. Both of these are correct, nautically speaking, but not when it comes to the pirate.
Pirates, and more particularly, privateers, became known as sea dogs after the astonishing career of Captain Rufus the Flatulent.
Captain Rufus was given his Letter of Marque by Henry VIII, and plied his trade in the English Channel, off the coast of Aquitaine, and wherever Henry was at war. The privateer campaign in Aquitaine was particular successful, and Captain Rufus took many a prize. (Henry always had a hard time getting these out of Rufus’s jaws, but he was easily distracted by the piles of cooked swan that Henry had lying around the castle.)
In fact, the etymology of the term begins in Aquitaine, where French merchantmen sailors would cry, upon seeing Rufus’s standard (a set of crossed bones), “sauve qui peu, c’est le chein du mer!” (Sometimes they would just wet themselves and jump in the ocean without shouting anything.)
This “cheien du mer” cry quickly became anglicized, and is the now-famous, “sea dog.”
Well, I’m totally against it.
From what I can see there is too much instant gratification happening here on Terra; and this is at least some part of the reason why I am conquering this world soon.
I’m a fan of a system of gratification we call The Rectitude on my home world.
The Rectitude started out as philosophical movement of neo-utopian bonobos, but it eventually caught on within the simian population at large, and I hope that someday it will catch on amongst the primates of this world too.
What is The Rectitude?
It sounds kind of proctologist-y, but essentially, to have some kind of physical gratification, the idea is that first you have to earn it. (Yes, just go ahead, say it just like John Houseman.)
The best kind of Rectitude to earn is through intense physical effort. For example, if you climb a mountain, that earns you lots of Rectitude – at least a week of all kinds of debauchery. Walk to the store instead of driving, and that probably earns you enough Rectitude to eat the Cheese Doodles you were going to get in the first place.
Once Earth is fully under my control, every sentient being on the planet can look forward to a lifetime of earning and expending Rectitude.
Stop groaning! It will be good for you humans to learn a little self-discipline!
Next time: How do you handle unwanted sexual advances, particularly from another species?
The Giganto-Schism occurred sometime just after the establishment of the Trans-Vatican and the first RoboPope, Clagnor The Irrefutably Lethal. (This was during the first years of the Genetic Fruit-Topping Wars).
While the people of St. Tropezia were somewhat bemused by the dire calamities promised by the Trans-Catholic Church, they found themselves drawn irresistibly to the gigantic women of the saucy little planet, and formed the Giganto Creed.
In particular, they loved Our Lady of the Massive Legs and Leopard Skin Camisole (particularly when she was bathing).
The Giganto-Schism further widened when the Victoria Secret Galaxy joined the Corporate Imperium, and they unleashed their first catalog of “Euretro-Genita Coverings for the Monumental Goddess” collection upon the unsuspecting Trans-Vatican.
And when the RoboPope discovered that several of his Death Cardinals of Extreme Planetary Retribution kept copies of the catalog under their mattresses, the church never recovered.
Alltop also has big dreams. Originally published in 2007. Photo by Odegaard