The Potsie Scheme

Back aboard the Starship: Independence, nicknamed Indy, our off world patrol car or broken down, salvaged war ship, depending upon how you look at it. Agent O puts the prisoner in the holding cell and I grab a seat in the closet that passes for a rec room aboard this heap.

The console screen flips on to Intergalactic 1, the only off world broadcast in this part of the galaxy, and six smiling faces look back at me. A story unfolds of a man, with three boys, who marries a woman, with three girls, and the hilarity of their wacky existence.

Next up, a pair of cousins, who look exactly the same, live in the same house. They appear like a couple of matching bookends; different as night and day. It’s a rerun followed by a rerun. In space, all shows are rerun and still no one can hear you scream.

It’s the absolute worst thing about space travel, the total lack of quality entertainment. Sure, there are a lot of things to dislike about space travel; the cramped spaces, the dehydrated food, Dr. Vergnaught’s bubble gum that taste like tar. But the absolute worst is the television.

One might think, with the advancement of space travel, those who live in space might have also evolved their entrainment to intergalactic proportions. This view point couldn’t be further from the truth.

The reality is that Intergalactic broadcast have intergalactic laws and fees that have to be accounted. Dr. Vergnaught’s Space Gum commercials don’t get on the air with hopes and dreams. Dr. Vergnaught pays an Ad firm, who then pays a Intergalactic television station for ad time. These Intergalactic television stations then pay production studios to produce shows that will keep viewers glued through commercial brakes.

Maybe my opinion is bias as I have not gone too far outside of our solar system and have yet to experience television beyond Intergalactic 1.

In further reaches of space, the broadcast options may have a better selection of carriers but Earth is a backwater planet. No close life forms for a couple galaxies, which many Grays theories is the reason for our stunted progression towards space travel. With no one to see, what’s the rush?

Other tin foil conspiracies say that Intergalactic 1’s exploitation of Intellectual property laws are closer to blame. The law, which state “If a species of intelligence is ignorant of their Intergalactic broadcast rights then they have no legal monetary recourse until a time that they learn of their rights.” in effect places all broadcast from Earth in public domain limbo until the greater population of Earthlings learn of their role in Space’s society.

As a result, anyone can broadcast any television show produced on Earth, free of charge. The Earth bound production houses don’t know their shows are broadcast throughout the known universe or that there is anyone to broadcast too. In this case, ignorance of the market is harmful.

The result is that Intergalactic 1, who used to pay producers a boat load of money to create quality shows, now pay nothing for television shows they get from Earth and collect all the profit from Dr. Vergnaught’s Ad money.

What’s the most popular show on Intergalactic 1? Drum roll… Mr. Ed., though this is largely due to a mistake in translation, most aliens think that Mr. Ed is the master and see Wilber as a sort of Lassie the dog type character.

From the success of Mr. Ed, Intergalactic 1 keeps all profits earned up to the point when the human who owns the intellectual property for Mr. Ed learns of their space profiteering. With the huge profit involved with the broadcast theft, there is motive for shareholders and executives of Intergalactic 1 to keep humans from progressing to the stage of long distance space travel.

Other social side effects of the intergalactic Ponzie scheme include the asshole in the holding cell. Most of the galaxy thinks Earth is a myth. They have never seen beings like us and think we are some kind of life form crafted by the Greys to produce entertainment at low costs.

In turn this enrages the teamster and entertainment unions, who are now out of work. Most of them join the picket line. But there are a rare few who get pushed over the edge. They see a world where a bipedal carbon based life form is continuously outwitted by a talking beast with four hooves and think they could be like Mr. Ed. They could take over a race like these pitiful humans and end the Grey tyranny over entertainment.

Then they step into my jurisdiction. Now I don’t have an occupational opinion on the morality of intergalactic politics. The rules and laws are as backwards as any found on Earth, but I do have a job. Agents protect Earth from all invaders. It’s rule number 1.