(Copyright 2002 by Joel Polowin.)

When we finally got to outer space
And met all kinds of alien races
A couple problems we had to face
While outwards we were zoomin'
Now one thing matched our expectation:
The problem of communication
But one defied all explanation:
Everyone hates us humans.

Those problems mostly aren't mine
Diplomacy's the Captain's line
An' Engineering suits me fine:
I work with the machines
We've got a linguist on the crew
She's talented, and clever too
Nails languages from a word or two
(Though in space she's kinda green).

A while ago she came to me
For help in fixing a persnickety
Little piece of modern technology,
The Universal Translator
Sometimes it works, and sometimes not
She wanted me to have a shot
At tuning it, and so I thought
That I'd accommodate her.

So first I needed docs and specs
On just what made the damn thing tick
A data request should've done the trick
'Cept for mil'tary interference
'Twas super deep-black ultra-classified
"Tell ya 'n' we'd haveta nuke yer ass"-ified
About a billion years'd pass if I'd
Waited to get the clearance.

So I set to work like an engineer
I got out my tools and a pitcher of beer
A pad of paper, pencils, pens,
And implements of depiction
I got it down to bits and parts
And found there, at its very heart
A flashing black-box widget -- damn,
It looked just like science fiction.

Well it wouldn't analyze, wouldn't scan,
Inert to every test known to man --
A little winking blinking can!
I felt like a stupid jerk.
Then I thought it made a bit of sense
To look at all the evidence
Of what it did to folks, and hence
Figure out how it must work.

[Well of COURSE I took it apart first. You

don't get to be chief engineer on a starship

by not taking things apart..!]

It seems to do some stuff that's weird
'Cause when it works, y' can't even hear
A bit of what should be loud and clear:
The original alien speech!
And stranger still is what you see:
Their lips move in synchronicity
With the translator, not the translatee...
... I drank another pitcher.

These weird effects in audio-video!
My thoughts whirled round 'til I felt giddy
An' then the problem of human idiom
Filled my thoughts real blackly
Translated aliens use our phrases,
Human units, number bases --
Makes no sense for alien races
To translate out so exactly!

["You have ten of your Earth minutes to give us

your leader, hu-man!"]

So I had another pitcher o' beer
My thoughts at this point... weren't real clear
And then our linguist came up near
And asked how I was doin'.
I could hardly talk -- I could hardly see!
Then that thing lit up like a Christmas tree
And then these words came outta me:
"I'm not having much luck, ensign."

[[Skewed look] It was the first time I'd ever been

on the wrong end o' that thing, and I don't mind

tellin' y'all that it was DAMN creepy.]

I somehow must've got to bed
I woke with a taste like something dead
In my mouth, an' pounding through my head
Three words: "Coercive... telepathic... projection."

[The damn thing makes the other guy speak your language.]

So now I think I've learned the plan --
Our "mentors" gave us this "helping hand"
They wanted to cause more problems for Man
And I'm looking for protection.

They got green blood and pointed ears,
It seems like maybe they're born with sneers,
Got mental powers that many fear
When they do something wrong they're sulkin'
Their attitude sucks, they're hypocrites
That "emotionless" pose is a crock of sh[ahem]
It ain't too hard to figure it
Why everyone hates the Vulcans.