I have connections. I don’t mean connections of the ligament-and-tendon variety, although I do have those as well (if I didn’t, that headshot up there would be assuredly different) — I refer of course to the connections that us Ivy League students are privy to, the kind that coalesce out of glances and furtive handshakes in the smoky back-rooms of bars.

More specifically, I have connections to the Ithaca Bureau of Investigations, a little-known but powerful organization located in the secret passageways below the clock museum. The IBI is primarily concerned with the monitoring of alien life, which, as you may have surmised, is particularly active in Ithaca. Through a series of improbable events that I won’t bother to recount (it involves three bowling balls, a two-dollar bottle of wine and a rather embarrassed emu), I became the official IBI-Daily Sun liaison, serving to control The Sun’s alien-related content (“What alien-related content?” you wonder — my point exactly) in exchange for privileged information.

Recently, I came across one such privileged document so shocking and so important that I felt I must share it with you. It seems that Cornell has been infiltrated by alien anthropologists, funded by a generous grant from the Intergalactic Science Foundation, who have posed as undergraduates in order to write an ethnography of the human race, no doubt to insidious ends. I have a copy of the translated notes for the ethnography, and I will reprint them in full in the following space so that you can be prepared for whatever may come of them. Although I realize that making this document public puts my reputation, my position at The Sun, and indeed my life itself at risk, I am willing to make that sacrifice to become the Daniel Ellsberg of our generation. A noble act? Certainly, but I would expect no less of a journalist such as myself.

Mission: #983261N

Location: Cornell University, Ithaca, New York, USA, Earth (42.4472ºN, 76.4782ºW)

Species: Homo sapiens ezrus

Subspecies: There are seven main subspecies. Artsandsciences dominate the campus, swarming its central regions, and are distinguished by low sexual dimorphism (especially in the wintertime) and a predilection for applying to law school. Engineers inhabit the southern regions of the campus, and are distinguished by a peculiar circadian rhythm. The subspecies seems to have devised a mode of asexual reproduction, for we have yet to spot a female member of the species and, as such, doubt that they exist. Humeccies constitute a small portion of the population — even smaller when computing by weight — and can be identified by their complete lack of marketable skills. The females of the subspecies are particularly distinctive, as during the winter their lower extremities develop extremely large, leathery outgrowths, presumably to protect their feet from the cold. Aggies are one of the more robust subspecies, possessing hearty constitutions; aside from this they are notable only for their total absence of notable characteristics. Architects and Hotelies are quite similar to one another, both being rather isolationist by nature; they differ mainly in hygiene standards and diet (hotelies subsist on salads, while architects derive most of their nutrition from nicotine). Finally, Ilries are a mysterious bunch, lurking in a cave and rarely emerging into the sunlight. We were unable to gather much data on them, for we could not navigate the labyrinthine chambers of their subterranean den.

Geography: The area is organized by elevation, with the most valued persons and objects residing at the highest elevations. Thus the neophytes reside at the crest of a hill, while the elders are relegated to a ditch on the western edge of campus.

Religion: The community is monotheistic; their deity takes the form of a large, centrally situated monolith. Thrice daily the deity speaks, and its cacophonous cries ring out across the campus. Between its orations, it chimes out quarter-hourly reminders of its presence, so as to command the constant devotion of its followers. The species seems to worship the deity by speaking into small, handheld boxes covered in buttons. This strange form of prayer dominates their lives, absorbing their full attention while walking and eating, and occasionally while mating.

Once each year, all the members of the community gather for a ceremony in the shadow of the deity. This ceremony takes the form of a bacchanalian orgy, acting as a reprieve from the species’ normally ascetic lifestyle dominated by casual ethanol abuse.

Mating rituals: The males and females of the species do not seem to be attracted to one another. Mating behavior is usually preceded by the ingestion of mind-altering substances, presumably in order to make the process more tolerable. Females signal their readiness by wearing bright colors and hoisting their mammary glands up toward their necks, while males signal their readiness by grunting.

Leisure: Although the species strives to remain devout to the aforementioned deity, they are often drawn to its opposing force, spending hours upon hours worshipping boxes containing pictures and words. Apparently, from our limited observation, the boxes can connect to one another through some invisible force, enabling members of the community to exchange pictures and words. We obtained some samples of the exchanged words, but they did not follow the syntactic or grammatical rules of any language we had researched.

Productivity: We did not observe any productivity.