The Birth Bag: From Ecto-Genesis to Transgenic Revelation


Ladies and Gentlemen we are floating in space

For over 50 years, researchers have been screaming into the wind that a massive conditioning program has been underway in order to acclimate people to UFOs, aliens, exoplanets and the rest of it. According to this line of thinking, this is precisely why we've been carpet-bombed with movies, books, comics, toys and TV shows beating the alien/UFO/AAT drum.

It's a difficult thesis to argue with, given nearly all of the major pop culture franchises have alien DNA somewhere in their genome, either at their cores (Star Trek, X-Files) or at the margins (the Marvel and DC Universes). 

And more often than you'd expect, you see these themes pop up in advertising as well. Pepsi's Super Bowl 49 campaign is one example. 

And Danielle is another.







If there is an alien conditioning program afoot, Danielle proves it's not just an American thing. 

Danielle is a long-form ad for Spain's Christmas Lottery, though you'd never know it if I didn't tell you. You do see Christmas decorations scattered around (including more Garlands than you can shake a pepper tree at) and there is a completely extraneous subplot about the lottery, but the real pitch of the film is selling you on trans-species romance. 

Since 2017 has not only been strip-mining 1997 for memetic gold but doing the same with 1984 (Stranger Things 2, for example), it's no surprise that Danielle raids John Carpenter's fridge for Starman tropes, appropriately gender-switched for the 21st Century.




Danielle kicks off with a very pearly-looking orb zooming through space towards Earth. Or should I say dropping to Earth? 

Your call, Sunners.



We see that this space orb is quite similar to the space orb in Starman, which Carpenter borrowed from the space orb from Wavelength, a 1983 film we've discussed a number of times here.




Once the orb arrives we see that the aliens here are-- plot twist-- non-corporeal light beings. Or being. Or maybe a collective, like a jellyfish colony from space. Or maybe even a Council.

Either way, John Carpenter should probably put in a call with his lawyer. 

Make note the alien pearlies take the shape of a butterfly. A Spangle, perhaps. Or maybe even a Plain Tiger or a Great Spangled Fritillary.


And just to tie all this in with the Never-Ending Ritual, don't forget the open-air altar to the Vegas "Whiteout" art installation at Madison Square (Broadway and 23rd St) in Manhattan. 




Plus, this recent solstice ritual/alien-conditioning combo-platter in California.




Anyway, the little pearlies scan the area until they spot a billboard featuring a wholesome-looking blonde on a billboard, an apparent advertisement for "Steph."*




And sure enough, the pretty blonde is a Vega; a Charlotte Vega. Or as she's known around these parts, "All for That Went to Charlotte Heaven or Las Vega." 



No sooner does our sexy space-siren manifest herself in corporeal form is she slouching towards the city (Madrid?) under a full moon.  She's inexplicably accompanied by a Toto-looking lapdog, playing the Sirius B to her Vega. 

Together they follow the yellow-brick road to Madrid. Or wherever. 




And then Danielle goes from ripping off Starman to ripping off another 1984 classic, Splash!, doing the old "our world through the eyes of an innocent" trope. There she meets an underachieving nebbish (played by Dani Luque), who wouldn't get within twenty feet of a Charlotte Vega in the real world, and sweet alien-human romance blooms. 

Or maybe angel-human love. There's nothing in Danielle to indicate she's actually a space alien as opposed to an angelic being. 

Or a fallen angelic being, for that matter. 

Either way, she's way hotter than the girls Daniel is used to date-raping dating and he falls head over heels in love. Danielle is his spangle-baby.




In fact, Daniel's so smitten with the kooky alien-babe that he doesn't run screaming for an exorcist when Danielle starts conjuring up ectoplasmic puffs of cotton candy in her sleep. Or get angry when she uses up all his monthly data beaming schematics of weapons installations, satellites and power plants to her homeworld.

That's true love.




Danielle then sets about collecting DNA samples from her targets. The Garlands of Christmas lights are helpfully arranged so they resemble double helixes while Danielle begins to suck away the lifeforce of this unsuspecting Troglodyte and Daniel first kiss.

Maybe that's just a little wink to any other kooky alien "flirty fishers" who happen to be watching. 




Daniel and Danielle no sooner exchange fluids than she dumps his broke-ass they get separated, and Danielle morphs into a John Cusack romcom for a spell. 

Then Danielle returns to OuMuaMua her orb to file her reconnaissance reports with the Supreme Vegan Soviet.




Danielle thoughtfully encodes her surveillance profiles into tidy glowing orbs, which are then absorbed by the Vegas.  She seems to have collected data on a number of other unsuspecting Earthlings besides Daniel. 

Probably genetic code for the Vegan bioweapon engineers to perfect their depopulation microbes with. 

Anyway, the Supreme Vega Soviet is scandalized when they learn that these shaved-monkey Terrans still practice pair-bonding and reproduce themselves sexually. 

A heated debate then arises over when they should annihilate all of these savages instead of just most of them. They then decide to table the motion until the Galactic Soviet holds its semi-annual Conclave. 




But after Daniel wins the big Christmas lottery and appears on television, Danielle miraculously bumps into him on the street. Nothing to do with him being a millionaire all of a sudden, certainly.  

Either way, the minimum wage-slave not only gets the space-alien Mata Hari, he gets four-million Euros for Danielle to burn through before she eventually dumps his loser ass for Cristiano Ronaldo.

Or maybe Danielle doesn't give a shit about a bunch of fiat currency that will be rendered worthless once the Vega mothership gets here. We'll have to wait for the sequel to find out.


Danielle makes one last report to OuMuaMua the orb, gloating how stupid and gullible these miserable Terrans are and how easy they'll be to subjugate. 

She doesn't mention how effective the assimilation process has been since the Vegas dumped some of their old, broken equipment on a ranch in New Mexico 70 years prior, but she really doesn't have to. 

I mean, that's self-evident.


CONSULT THE SACRED TEXTS




The thing that really caught my eye about Danielle are its alarming connections to a subplot in another of my OCD hobby-horses, Kamandi #30. 

Longtime readers need no introduction to this ancient grimoire but if you do, please check out this post, which explains it all

Kamandi #30 has the 'Last Boy on Earth' and his astronaut pal Ben Boxer abducted by a UFO and dropped off in a "sandpit" where an alien is collecting-- or looting-- all of the Earth artifacts it can get its talons on and is feeding them through an interdimensional wormhole or portal.

As to where this sandpit is, that's never specified. But do note the Assyrian Lammasu there, smack dab in the center. 

All of these alien hijinks are place against the backdrop of a war led by the Tiger Empire, which is headquartered in the ruins of Washington, DC. An invasion of gorilla territory is being led by Prince Tuftan, son of the emperor who battled the gorilla forces all the way back in Kamandi #1.

You could say this was Sandpit War II. Or Operation Sandpit Freedom.




At the climax of the story we discover that the alien in question is a ball of sentient energy contained in a suit. The ball then possesses Ben Boxer, turning him into a mindless giant for an issue or so. 




While Operation Sandpit Freedom rages on outside, Kamandi and his former keeper Dr. Canus follow the wormhole alien's (who calls itself "Me") directions on how to use its TARDIS "translator" to create a permanent Earth body for Me. 



The alien chooses Kamandi to model itself after so Dr. Canus hooks him up to some arcane "conversion" gadgetry in the "translator" and flips the switch.




Flips the switch, indeed. 

The alien comes out of the conversion chamber with its new body, which in this case is fully clothed and female. 

Well, female-ish

Let's just say as female as Jack was going to draw a character in his Fauvist period.

At least one journalist raised the issue with Jack, that what we have here is an alien modeling itself after a half-naked, long-haired teenaged boy (who roams around with a rugged astronaut twice his age) and emerging as a woman (give or take), but hey, that's funnybooks for you. You gotta just roll with it.


I should mention though that Kamandi was originally an adult character but DC Editor-in-Chief Carmine Infantino ordered him changed to a teenager. Jack was never big on kid characters, and usually only worked on them when Joe Simon (who was very big on them) or some other writer or editor insisted on it. 

Bonus factoid: Barry Alfonso was the model for Klarion the Witchboy in The Demon.


But I should note that DC revived the long-dormant Kamandi franchise for a mini-series this year, it being 2017 and all. 

DC Tooniverse Executive Producer Bruce Timm supplies the cover art.


ENTER THE BIRTH BAG




Well, since that Kamandi story arose from the same '74-'75 period as OMAC and PKD's 2/3/74 experience and RAW's Sirius Transmissions we gotta expect some heavy prophecy encoded into these yarns and lo and behold, it is.

First off is the creation of literal "birth bags"- artificial wombs presently being used to incubate cloned animals. It's only a matter of time before they're growing people in these things. Or other entities. 




Artificial wombs are old hat, though. Now mind-controlled Nephilim slaves science researchers have claimed to have developed artificial sperm and ova from cloned genetic material.




Of course, it's all for the greater good, you see. I mean, childbirth can be so dangerous and it's murder on a woman's figure, so something has to be done. 

And look at this nice test-tube baby; she's all grown up and has kids of her own. You like nice test-tube-baby ladies, don't you? Sure you do. Everybody does.

Either way, let's look at the latest news from the world of cutting-edge genetic engineering and see if we can't construct a narrative. 





CRISPR trials are beginning in the new year, by which they mean "publicized human trials." They've been working on this stuff for a very long time. 

I mean, where do you think all those homeless people actually go when they disappear?

No, I'm absolutely serious.




And here we go-- scientists are claiming they can go in and eliminate entire chromosomes, just like lines of code from an app. 

Yeah. "Eliminate." Entire chromosomes. 

Eliminate entire chromosomes.


You gotta love that dry British humor: "fears over possible military uses and unintended consequences" with "genetic extinction technologies."

"Possible." "Unintended." ROTFLMAO! 

Oh shit, I'm about to wet myself here. LOL.




PURITY CONTROL

And what do they intend to replace the extinct genes and eliminated chromosomes with? 

Well, I guess the sky's the limit, since they also have apparently created a new base pair of nucleotides for DNA. 



Whatever do they need those for, do you think?

Wait-- I think I saw this episode already:

CARPENTER: I've done some work. These are the DNA sequences from the bacteria sample you brought in. You seem to know something about molecular biology. Do you know what you're looking at? 
SCULLY: Yeah, I think those are genes. 
CARPENTER: Right. They're called base pairs. Each pair is made up of something called a nucleotide. Only four nucleotides exist in DNA. Four. And through some miracle of design that we have yet to fathom, every living thing is created out of these four basic building blocks. What you're looking at is a sequence of genes from the bacteria sample. Normally, we'd find no gaps in the sequence. But with these bacteria, we do. 
SCULLY: Why is that? 
CARPENTER: I don't know why. But I tell you, under any other circumstances, my first call would have been to the government. 
SCULLY: What exactly did you find? 
CARPENTER: A fifth and sixth DNA nucleotide. A new base pair. Agent Scully, what are you looking at... it exists nowhere in nature. 
It would have to be, by definition... extraterrestrial.

And watch the hell out, because scientists are claiming they already have created new organisms with these new nucleotides. Why, it could be the beginning of a whole new race of Nephilim life form.

And since they're already working on digitizing the DNA of absolutely every form of life on earth you can't help but wonder what they plan on doing with two brand new pairs of nucleotides.

Wait; I think I saw this episode, too: 
Threshold learns that the aliens are attempting to rewrite the DNA of the human race using, in part, an audio signal that somehow alters some people's body chemistry in such a way that they become alien themselves. 
Central to all this is a fractaltriskelion pattern that keeps appearing � in electronic signals, blood, and even the pattern made by city lights. Its significance has yet to be revealed, though Arthur Ramsey interpreted it as representing a DNA pattern in a triple helix formation (like the alien DNA).
What better way to write a triple helix formation than with a sequence that is itself a multiple of three? 


You know, if I were to colonize a planet of total fucking idiots I wouldn't bother to raise a giant army and load it into motherships for an interminable, "are we there yet" trek through the vast, cold distances of open space. 

No, I'd simply beam over all kinds of signals filled with all kinds of scientific information that would brainwash said idiots into recreating my genome on their own stupid planet. Or recombining my DNA with theirs, since it would make it easier to adapt to their biosphere.

Not to mention beaming over the schematics for my quantum AIs to run everything for them and get their dumbass world ready for the big transition.


And since I realized that these idiots were always looking for advanced weapons to kill their idiot neighbors off with, I'd send that information over too. 

I just wouldn't mention that my AIs are programmed to target that technology at getting rid of them, or at least most of them. 

You still need a few around to do all the gruntwork. Plus, to experiment on. 


Crazy notion, isn't it? The flights of fancy of a madman.



Tell me about it. That kind of thing could never happen in reality.






*  Is it my imagination or have I been seeing the 'Stephen' variant of 'Steven' more often than usual lately? 

� The Lamassu also brings to mind the recent PR stunts pulled by "ISIS" in Syria and Baghdad. Stunts that were exposed largely as hoaxes once no one was paying attention anymore. 

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Twilight of the Immortals