“If reading all this feels like too much, no worries—I’ve got you covered. You can listen to this newsletter, narrated by the guy from Planet Earth, the one and only Sir David Attenborough. Enjoy!”

The Intro:

I like thinking about aliens—not in a scary way, but more out of curiosity about what they would think of us humans. I often find myself in the middle of big sporting events wondering, “What if the aliens came to Earth right now, and the first thing they saw was thousands of humans watching 22 others playing football?” What would they think of us then? Would they assume that the weird brown object the players are fighting over holds the key to eternal life, and every human there gets a chance to fight for it? Honestly, that sounds more reasonable than the real answer—that we’re just here to get drunk and cheer for our team to win week 3.

Or, my other favorite thought: if aliens came to Earth and found all the humans gone, they’d probably assume that the most powerful earthlings lived in Las Vegas. Think about it—they’d see the castle, the mini New York City, the Eiffel Tower, the pyramid with a light shooting out of the top, and think, “Yup, this is where the kings lived." And they’d be kinda right—thanks to Elvis.

While these thoughts are fun, I do have this strange fear that one day, aliens will take one look at us from their UFO, assess what they see, and, because it doesn’t make sense to them, just take off without us even knowing. It made me realize: we don’t have a proper way to make a first impression with aliens. And that’s a problem I want to solve because I believe we, as a human race, deserve the chance to formally introduce ourselves to our green neighbors.

But how would we communicate? What would we even want to say? It would have to be something that transcends language—something that shows them who we really are before they jump to conclusions about us. In the best case scenario, they like what they see, come down to Earth, and expand our knowledge of the universe beyond anything we could have ever imagined. Worst case, they don’t like what they see and treat us like ants they found in the kitchen.

That’s why our first contact method would be so crucial, which leads to the bigger question: how do we present ourselves, and what do we want to communicate? I think the answer is music, so pass me the AUX.

The Persona:

Now that we’ve decided music is the best way to introduce ourselves to the aliens, the next question is: who are these aliens, and what are their intentions? But how can we understand anyone’s intentions, let alone those of an entirely different species? The truth is, you can’t—unless you ask the right questions. The best salespeople don’t start by selling; they start by asking questions. This helps them understand their customers' needs, and only then do they sell by addressing those needs. Asking the right questions is key.

First question: Where are these aliens coming from?

We don’t know exactly, but if they’re close enough to hear music from Earth, it’s safe to assume they’re a long way from home. Great, we’ve established they’re far from home. Check. Now what?

Second question: What does that tell us about their intentions?

To answer this, let’s put ourselves in the aliens’ shoes and imagine the emotions we might feel when far from home. This helps us better gauge their intentions. Their mindset probably falls into one of these three categories:

1. They’re passing by – Just traveling through, indifferent to Earth, and focused on reaching their actual destination.

2. They’re lost – Likely scared, disoriented, and unsure of where they are or what to do next.

3. They’re right on target – They’ve arrived exactly where they intended, and their attention is now fully on Earth.

At this point, we’ve determined our alien visitors are far from home, and they’re either passing by, lost, or right on target. No matter the scenario, we don’t want them to feel scared. That means our first impression—our first song—needs to be non-threatening. If they’re lost or just passing by, we want to convey, “Hi there! No need to be afraid.” We don’t want to disorient or startle them, as that could shift their intentions in ways we can’t predict. So, the song should feel welcoming and friendly.

But if they’re right on target, and Earth is their intended destination, we still don’t know their intentions—it could be friendly, or it could be hostile. Either way, we need to strike a balance: being welcoming, but not appearing weak or aggressive. If their intentions are hostile, we need to show we’re prepared, but without escalating things unnecessarily. So, the song should start off warm, but end with a bit of an edge. It should say, “Hi there! We’re friendly, no need to be afraid. But just so you know, we’re strong and capable—without being a threat.”

So, what’s the right song to play for our visitors? What song could possibly communicate all that? Let me answer by asking—have you ever seen The White Lotus on HBO?

The White Lotus:

Before we talk about the song above, let’s first talk about the show The White Lotus. There are two seasons, and both start the same way—with a death. You don’t know who died, but you know it happened on vacation at the beautiful White Lotus Hotel. After this reveal, the show transports you to the beginning of the vacation, following several different groups of people staying at the resort. These groups don’t interact, much like you wouldn’t interact with strangers at a resort. Each group comes from completely different backgrounds with unique stories, and at first, they all seem nice, well-mannered, and ready for a pleasant vacation.

But as the show progresses and you get comfortable with the groups, you remember someone died in the opening scene, and suddenly things start to feel off. You quickly realize that these people you first thought were “normal” are actually fucking crazy, and it becomes clear that this wasn’t just a peaceful death—someone was murdered. Now, you begin to wonder: who’s capable of killing someone? Who’s likely to be killed? As you watch, your judgment keeps flipping—characters you once suspected of murder now seem like the victims, and vice versa. This back-and-forth tension keeps building until the final scene, where all your questions are answered in an instant. And when the season ends, you’re left alone with your thoughts, still questioning your own judgment… “I can’t believe that’s who did it.”

The song:

Now, if I didn’t convince you to watch The White Lotus, maybe I can explain why its theme song is the perfect first contact method for extraterrestrial life.

When you break it down, it’s pretty simple. The start of the song is pleasant, which works well for aliens who are either passing by or lost—no need to alarm them. It’s the perfect way to say, “Hi there! No need to be afraid.” But if Earth is their destination and their intentions aren’t entirely peaceful, we need to ensure we’re not seen as vulnerable. That’s where the last part of the song comes in. As the tone shifts in an unexpected and unsettling way, it shows that while we’re welcoming, we’re also prepared. This change in mood speaks to the third scenario: if Earth is their intended target, they’d realize we’re not to be taken lightly.

Like I said, it’s simple when you break it down, but why do I believe this song is the perfect choice? It doesn’t just tell the aliens what they need to know based on where they’re coming from—it’s a snapshot of who we are before they make any snap judgments. As I mentioned earlier, we, as humans, deserve the chance to formally introduce ourselves to our new green neighbors. And I think this song is us. I think humans are this song. At first glance—or first listen—we seem like pleasant people just trying to enjoy our time here, like we’re on some cosmic vacation. We’re born, we live, and then we’re gone. But then something funny happens in the middle when the song starts to get weird: we get educated, form beliefs, find our tribes, and fight like hell to protect them. We make great choices and terrible mistakes. We act without thinking, overthink everything, love deeply, and hate passionately. We live for the moment but can’t decide if we want time to slow down or speed up. In short—we are crazy.

And not just on an individual level. Oh no, we’re collectively crazy on a global scale. As a species, we’re capable of anything—good or bad. Like the song, you quickly realize something is off with every single one of us. And here’s the thing: that’s what makes us great. Before you start doubting whether you’re the good kind of crazy or the bad kind, let me say this: you are crazy, and that’s awesome. What I’ve learned while writing this is that being crazy is part of being human. We love obsessing over games that mean nothing in the grand scheme of life. We willingly blow our hard-earned money in a fake version of Venice, knowing full well the odds are against us. That’s who we are. And if there’s one thing our alien visitors need to understand, it’s this: our madness is our magic.

Sure, some of us are crazy enough to do evil things, like committing murder at The White Lotus Hotel, but most of us? We’re crazy enough to believe we can change the world—and sometimes, we actually do.

I don’t know, maybe it’s shit.

Thanks for reading.