Art World

I received this email from an artist, who begged me to tell the world that something is going on and what seems like art may have a sinister purpose. I am not using his real name. It happened many years ago when he was still studying art at university.

Gregg was driving along the road late one night. He saw that the bridge was closed. There were fire engines, ambulances and police cars all around. Gregg drove down to the quayside, trying to get to the old swing bridge. He saw a road closed sign. He had to turn the other way. Was he going the wrong way to get to the swing bridge? He drove on into the dark along the side of the huge river. For several miles he drove. He became lost. Suddenly he saw what he thought was a police car. Yes, the police would help. They would be able to tell him where to go. He stopped the car. Close up, the vehicle didn't really look like a police car. It was bigger than that and much rounder. Suddenly, Gregg found himself inside, talking to two strange creatures that looked like men but had long pointy noses, silver skin and almond eyes.
"We want to conquer your world," said one creature.
"Why?" asked Gregg.
"You have developed weapons of mass destruction," said the second creature. "The interplanetary council regard your planet as a threat."
"What? I know we have a few atomic bombs and moon rockets, but we couldn't do anything to attack you."
"Not now," said the first creature, "but maybe in a hundred years time."
"Don't worry," said Gregg, "the government don't spend anything like the necessary amount of money on space research. Our spacecraft are twenty years old and they're falling apart."
"At the moment, that might even be true," said the second creature, "but one day you'll make the breakthrough."
"Which breakthrough?" asked Gregg.
"Don't tell him," said the first creature.
"It won't be long before you can attack us," said the second creature. "You have the potential to develop weapons of mass destruction. You must be conquered or you might become a danger to us."
"What has this got to do with me?" asked Gregg.

"You will help us conquer your world," said the first creature.
"I'm only an art student," said Gregg. "How can I help you conquer the world?"
"We have items of military hardware," said the second creature. "You can help us hide them, so that earth men won't know what they are."
"How can I do that?"
"Tell your leaders that our military installations are works of art," said the first creature.
"There are all sorts of things we need to do," said the second creature. "We need navigation beacons. The spacecraft all need to gather at one point when they bomb a city. Rusty pieces of metal 70 feet high, carved into unusual shapes."
"Yes," said the first creature, "art."
"We also need an ark," said the second creature. "It'll be about seventy feet high, and made from rusty metal. It'll look like a ship, but of course, it won't be a ship. Just tell Middlesbrough council how many jobs it would bring to Middlesbrough."
"Why do you need an ark?" asked Gregg.
"To repopulate the earth," said the first creature.
"Repopulate it? You mean you're going to wipe it out. I won't help you conquer my planet."
"Gregg," said the second creature. "Life under alien rule would be lovely. There'd be no famine in Ethiopia. We'd make sure people got their 2,000 calories a day. There'd be no obesity either. Or global warming. Or crime. You know why? There'd be no money."
"Then people would refuse to work," said Gregg.
"Oh no, they'd work," said the first creature. "They'd be shot if they didn't. I assure you they'd work. They'd work for us. We'll revive your manufacturing industry, all right. You earthmen haven't got the faintest idea how to run your planet. It is in your interest to become one of our colonies."
"We are simply going around the universe setting it to rights," said the second creature.
"Why are you so concerned about our welfare?"
"We need other planets to manufacture cheap imported goods," said the first creature.
"Is that the real reason for the war?"
"There are many reasons for the war," said the second creature, "or it wouldn't be in everyone's interests."

"We need to photograph lots of people naked," said the first creature. "There'll be big events in the summer, people standing in the nude being photographed."
"Why naked?"
"To select breeding stock for the ark," said the second creature. "When the invasion comes, the soldiers go and find the people who were identified as the best breeding stock and take them to the ark."
"What soldiers?"
"Robot soldiers," said the first creature. "They are covered in rusty metal. You will put them on the beach and they will look like statues."
"Why does everything have to be rusty?"
"It's a sacrificial coating," said the second creature. "The soft iron outside is designed to rust. That way the metal underneath is protected. The structures could last for hundreds of years."
"It will take a long time for us to actually invade the earth," said the first creature. "We need to do all these things slowly and make them seem normal everywhere, so that nobody notices. Then one day the soldiers on the beach will come to life, kick down the children's sand castles, and drag their parents away to one of our arks."

"What's in it for the artists?"
"The artists will be able to rebuild a devasted world," said the second creature. "You will be able to design the buildings." Gregg was sorely tempted when he heard this.
"I'd be able to design great big blocks of flats that looked like a loaf of bread, I'd be able to design bedrooms that were shaped like egg shells and joined together with staircases that go down plastic tubes."
"Yes, we'll need those," said the first creature. "Cheap, high density accomodation that allows people to live right next to where they work."
"Will you assist us," asked the second creature, "or will we have to kill you?"
"I'll assist," said Gregg, although he wasn't really sure whether he meant this. He was tempted by the thought of being an architect but distressed by the thought of aiding a terrible war that would cause billions of people to die.
"When you get back into your car you need to turn left, drive half a mile, and follow the sign onto the industrial estate," said the first creature. "When you come to the end of the industrial estate you turn left again, drive another mile down that road and you come to a big roundabout and a dual carriageway. You'll be able to find your way home then, it's signposted."
"Thanks very much," said Gregg, and found himself back in the car. Or had it all been a dream?