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Home > Sci-Fi > My Favorite Martians: The Visitors

My Favorite Martians: The Visitors

September 1st, 2009

I’ve already written enough about the Visitors (here and here, not to mention an entire frickin’ website), so I’m not going to launch into an extensive recap of the original V miniseries or its followups. I’d rather discuss a rare commodity in the era of instant gratification: the power of surprise.

I hope that you’ll forgive me for the “you young whippersnappers” attitude in the following. Look, I’m 45, and that feeling grows stronger with each passing sunset. You kids really don’t know how good you’ve got it. Why, in my day, all we had to eat were astronaut food sticks and Sweet’N Low…

Where was I? Oh yes, lizard space Nazis.

So, in the nearly-forgotten era before Google and spoiler sites, if you wanted to know about an upcoming sci-fi show, you most likely read about it in Starlog magazine. As I recall, Starlog‘s only mention of V prior to its premiere was a brief article short on details. And so it was that I came to assume that “V” probably stood for “Virus,” as a spaceborne pandemic storyline seemed like just the sort of lame-ass shit NBC might foist on us in a sweeps period.

Then I saw the teaser promo. And the spaceships.

When the fleet of fifty motherships came to rest above Earth’s largest cities, I was astonished.

When squad after squad of jumpsuited aliens marched out (to the tune of a high school marching band rendition of  the Star Wars theme, no less), I was captivated.

When that woman’s jaw distended and she gulped down that guinea pig, my own jaw hit the floor.


Wait, they’re really reptiles wearing human skins? They want to steal our water? And have us for dinner? By the end of the four-hour miniseries, I could. not. wait. for the next installment.

It didn’t come until next May. And I didn’t know what would happen that time either.

When that lizard baby crawled out of that teenager’s stomach, the girls in the dorm screamed and screamed.

Those were the days, you young whippersnappers.

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