And while I refuse to dignify questions about my origins by responding to the haters who refer to me as a “space-case” or “alien,” I have decided to post my birth certificate just in case an appeal to evidence might have any bearing whatsoever on the beliefs of certain people.
Not that reasoned discourse happens to be the preferred mode of public debate these days; rather, it seems like all you have to do is spout whatever ideas come into your head as loudly as possible over and over again until somebody with a microphone and/or camera begins to listen and take you somewhat seriously.
(Of course, that’s been my strategy on this weblog for the past five years, without much popular success, but I digress.)
Besides, the “earth-born” requirement for Planetary Regent strikes me as outdated, anyway. After all, these days, somebody constructed in a test tube, or put together out of silicon chips is allowed to be Earth’s king, just so long as those operations took place on this third rock from the sun. Conversely, a child born to two carbon-based homo sapiens, using the time-honored (albeit rather messy) method of sexual intercourse, is disqualified just because his or her parents happened to be visiting Titan or some other extraterrestrial vacation spot in the solar system when the joyous occasion of birth occurred.
As a consequence, some of our greatest statespeople, including the current half-human, half-Venusian prime minister can’t accede to the top spot on the planet, while the vast majority of the current prison population could.
As for me, I trust the evidence I present here puts this issue to bed; I know I’m ready for a nap, anyway.