We each had our little armies, and they really hated each other. My frustration with the entire idea that the Carls should be treated like a menace and an excuse for militarization fueled that rage on my side. On Peter’s side, the rage was fueled by similar indignation with a healthy dose of fear on top.
We met on the most neutral ground we could find, CNN. It was a respectable show, as cable news goes, but still they spent a full week beforehand promo-ing our “head-to-head” as if it were a frickin’ presidential debate. We both traveled to the studio in New York, where we sat at a fancy glass table in front of an extremely fancy wall and looked out at the lights and the cameras and the steel-beamed warehouse beyond.
TRANSCRIPT
Presenter: The sixty-four largest metropolitan areas in the world are being visited by alien technology, possibly alien life. But their intentions remain a mystery.
April May, the discoverer of New York Carl, and Peter Petrawicki, author of Invaded, have both been guests here on the show, but never together. The question is pretty simple: Are the Carls dangerous?
April, you clearly have never felt threatened by Carl, initially believing him to be some kind of modern sculpture.
With that nonquestion it was clear that it was my turn to talk, so I did the thing that everyone on these shows always did and ignored the prompt and said what I wanted to say: “If the Carls or their creators wanted to harm us, they would have no trouble doing so. They seem to be, by their very nature, passive.” By this point I was surprised that I hadn’t been interrupted, so I wasn’t sure what else to say but was loath to cede the floor, so I continued. “They’re so technologically advanced that we couldn’t catch up in a thousand years.”
That’s when Petrawicki broke in. “Cheryl, you say the question is, ‘Are the Carls dangerous?’ I don’t think that’s the question at all. For me, the question is, ‘Might the Carls be dangerous?’ I’m simply saying that I don’t know the answer to that question. I also don’t know how hard it would be to fight them if we had to. I just think it’s wise to not just sit back and assume the best of this technology that is not just passive. It’s inside our minds and it’s somewhere running loose in America.”
This was a reference to the fact that Hollywood Carl’s hand had still not been seen since it dropped off in front of Grauman’s Chinese Theatre. None of the Carl hands in other countries (or in the US for that matter) had dropped off and run away; it was clear that all the rest of them had simply vanished. This was just another freaky mystery to puzzle scientists and scare Defenders.
In any case, the fact that Peter Petrawicki, who, when on the internet, never stopped shouting fake alarmist nonsense, seemed calm and reasonable threw me off guard. This wasn’t the conversation I’d prepped for.
Cheryl, the anchor, took back over.
“There is a certain reasonableness to that, April?”
“I’m fine with practicing care, but the hatred and animosity that comes out of the Defenders movement—”
“You’re fine with practicing care?” Peter shot back, interrupting forcefully. “You are the reason Carl woke up. You might have caused this invasion into our minds with your meddling. It’s clear to me, April. You said it yourself that you shouldn’t have done that, that you should have let someone qualified make that call, but you didn’t. You and your followers are just blindly tumbling forward without any regard for the safety of the people of this country.”
Why was it always “this country” with this guy, as if the whole world wasn’t in this one together? But I had already realized my misstep, so I got back on message.
“Here’s what it comes down to. I think we have a visitor knocking on our front door and you want to point a gun at it.”
“They didn’t knock, dear, they walked straight inside without a word, and if that’s a home invasion, then this is an invasion as well.”
This was going badly. The presenter took back the reins. “Peter, April brings up a good point. What can we do, really, when faced with a technology that is so clearly superior to our own?”
“Figuring that out is not my job, that’s the job of the commander in chief. All I want is for us to consider the threat, and not roll over at the first sign of a dominant life-form. Have we learned nothing from history? What happens when a dominant group meets an inferior group? Every single time, they’re slaughtered and everything they have is taken away from them.”
I actually found enough anger to interrupt here. “And you just assume because humans are terrible that other species are terrible too?”
“April, I don’t think humans are terrible—”
I broke in, “You just—”
He cut me off in return. “If you’d let me finish . . . I don’t think humans are terrible, I think we are strong and resourceful and if anyone can fight this fight and survive it, it’s us.”
April: There is no fight to fight! You’re inventing it, I don’t even know why! Why do you spend your time scaring all these people?
Peter: You really do think we’re afraid. It’s like you and I live in different countries, April May.”
April: Of course you’re afraid, that’s all you ever talk about, you—
Peter: All we’re asking for is a little common sense, and you come out and attack me! It’s the same story over and over, regular people ask to slow down and exercise care and then suddenly we’re “xenophobic” or “exophobic” or whatever other word you invented last week to help sell books.
I’d heard all this before, but I also knew that this line of argument worked. If you tell people that they’re being attacked for their beliefs, then suddenly they want to defend their beliefs, even if they didn’t really believe them before. It’s pretty amazing, really.
I had a thought for defusing the situation that I wanted to try. It was vital that I didn’t get sucked into defending myself from his last little quip and, instead, go for the root of what he was getting at, which was that there is a clear logical perspective and that it was his.
April: Peter, you invoke the common sense of regular people, but there are lots of regular people who disagree with you, and they also think they’re invoking common sense. We’re all regular people, when it comes down to it.
Peter: Not with your lifestyle.
I wasn’t ready for that at all. I’d offered an olive branch and he just whacked me with it.
April: What?
Peter: April, I don’t think it’s any secret that the life you lead isn’t a common lifestyle.
April: I mean, nor you, right? We have weird lives, we’re on TV, there are millions of people watching. None of this is normal.
Peter: Well, if you’re going to be intentionally obtuse.
April: Are you talking about the fact that I’m a lesbian?
Peter: You say that, but you seem to only be a lesbian sometimes. Other times, not so much.
April: What? Why is this a topic of conversation?
The presenter, who was equally baffled, finally stepped in, “I have to agree . . .”
And then, thinking that I would have to do this at some point anyway, I did the dumbest thing possible. I stayed on Peter Petrawicki’s talking point instead of moving to my own.
April: No, it’s fine, he’s right. This has absolutely nothing to do with this conversation, but I’m bisexual and that’s just as regular as being gay or straight. A person’s gender has never been a thing that influences whether I’m attracted to them and that’s just as regular as being gay or straight.
Peter: Then why have you been lying about it for the last year?
The extent to which I had lost control of this conversation baffled me. Here are a list of thoughts I had in the space of five seconds:
Sexuality is complicated and fluid (deeply off topic)
Being bi is normal, but . . . you know . . . (they don’t know)
I lied because people like you are terrible! (accusatory)
It’s only been six months, not a year! (not useful)
I lied because it was better for my career? (bad)
My agent told me to lie, it wasn’t my idea! (only a little better)