Tuesday, July 20, 2010
I love Dick.
Phillip K Dick, that is. Man Neill, have you read his stuff? It's awesome. I just finished Clans of the Alphane Moon. Humor, action, fake boobs, Ganymedean slime moulds; that book has it all! Well ahead of it's time. It's funny, it has all the trappings of why I used to not read much sci-fi. All the goofy terms and ideas. Now though...I can't get enough.
Anyway, so another Space Jockey pic. I might shake it up here soon. Do some other things, and come back to this. So here's a Space Jockey image. The legs fold up to allow it to sit in the seat from the original alien. All bio-tech, like the aliens themselves. The helmet is more of a plasma/force field thing. Image blowing a bubble; that's sort of how it's deployed.
My new idea for the alien/jockey relationship is this: So the Jockey's veiw themselves as sort of a benevolent peace keeping force. They aren't entirely. They breed/designed the aliens to be used as protectors/guard dogs. They added a fail safe though, a jockey has to be there to keep them in line. That oblong head allows the jockey to control them telepathically. Maybe even destroy them telepathically. Shit I don't know, I'm making this shit up as I go.
Anyway, peaceful pretty alien race asks the jockeys for help. They give a fake story about their planet being invaded, or the fear of it being invaded. The jockeys agree to help and send a group of three of them and several eggs to their homeworld. Of course, it's all a ploy. The happy pretty aliens want to use the xeno's the same way Weyland Yutani wants to; as bio weapons against their own people.
So the jockeys learn of this, fighting, airlocks and shit, and chaos ensues until the ship crashes. When I get it all figured in my head I'll put it out there. Anyway. Just thinking. Still.
Figuring this out in my free time. Which is like a minute a day lately.
Well, fuck-a-duck, time's up.
Dougland Yutani Williams