Greetings, Earthlings! Xylb’tok the Martian is at the controls, the silent penguin is looking deeply unimpressed, Grzz’lax has misplaced the camera again, and the Martian Senate is preparing yet another strongly worded motion about the continuing decline of intelligent life on Earth. Meanwhile, Elon Mars is presumably plotting to colonise something he hasn’t been invited to, and the Tangerine Tyrant is discovering ever more inventive ways to make an already ridiculous situation considerably more ridiculous.
This week’s dispatch has everything: a consolation prize for the world’s most aggrieved would-be peacemaker, a government apparently confusing international justice with a personal enemy, and an ocean in danger of being rebranded. Somewhere on Mars, meanwhile, a Perseverance rover is trying to do its job while the Lunar Haggis wonder why humanity keeps sending noisy machinery into their neighbourhood.
So buckle up, Earthlings. It’s another week of terrestrial self-sabotage, courtesy of the planet’s most exhausting orange export.
The No Ball Prize: a consolation for the chronically overinflated egomaniac
Poor Donny. The man has apparently settled eight wars, rescued civilisation approximately 17 times before breakfast and personally convinced world leaders to stop behaving like world leaders. Yet the Nobel Peace Prize committee has once again failed to recognise his contribution to the art of congratulating oneself.
The 2026 prize went instead to Navi Pillay, the former International Criminal Court judge and former UN High Commissioner for Human Rights, recognised for her work promoting peace and accountability under international law. Trump, naturally, was not delighted. He described Norway’s failure to award him the prize as an “indelible stain” and dismissed Pillay as a mystery person.
A mystery person? Navi Pillay has spent decades working in international justice. The real mystery is how a man can be so convinced of his own historical importance that an award going to somebody else becomes a personal insult from an entire country.
Fear not, DonOLD. Here on Mars, we understand the pain of an overlooked bigly genius. The Martian Senate has therefore awarded you our Mars No Ball Prize, for the second year running!
It recognises outstanding achievement in peacemaking by press release, conflict resolution by self-congratulation and diplomacy by threatening to take your ball home when nobody applauds.
The prize comes with a certificate, a small ceremonial rock and absolutely no money. We considered a golden trophy, but redirected the budget to our planetary defence system after somebody mentioned your name.
An obviously unrelated attack on international justice
In what was almost certainly an entirely unrelated coincidence, the United States announced sanctions against the International Criminal Court just hours after Pillay received her Nobel Peace Prize.
Now, I am no Earthling diplomat, but even a Martian with the strategic instincts of a confused space slug might notice the optics.
A former judge associated with international accountability wins the world’s most prominent peace prize. Hours later, Washington takes action against the very institution she once served.
One can almost hear the diplomatic equivalent of a slammed door.
At this rate, the White House will be sanctioning the Nobel committee next. Perhaps Norway’s fisheries will follow, along with anyone who dares to utter the word “accountability” without first seeking permission from the Oval Office.
On Mars, we have a simpler policy. If somebody wins a peace prize, we congratulate them. If we disagree with a court, we argue our case. We do not generally respond by trying to make the court’s bank account disappear.
Mind you, we also do not have a president who treats every disagreement as a declaration of war.
The Godfather, the Don and the great Italian movie conspiracy
Columbus Day brought another of Trump’s meandering speeches, this time featuring a remarkable allegation: Hollywood had supposedly stopped allowing Italian names for mobsters in films because somebody decided that using such names was discriminatory.
According to Trump’s account, filmmakers were forced to replace recognisably Italian gangster names with alternatives such as Alan Jones. He appeared to lament the decline of mob films and suggested political correctness had helped ruin the genre.
Somewhere, presumably, a screenwriter is frantically rewriting The Godfather as The Godfather: The Accountant from Accounting.
Don Corleone becomes Mr Smith. Tony Soprano becomes Brian Spreadsheet. Al Capone is reborn as Alan from Human Resources, a man who makes people offers they cannot refuse, mostly involving mandatory workplace training.
The irony is that Italian-American actors, writers and filmmakers have helped shape the very genre Trump appears to admire. Hollywood’s history of stereotyping is a legitimate subject for discussion, but the president’s sweeping account of a ban on Italian names doesn’t become fact simply because he delivers it into a microphone.
Perhaps Trump has watched so many gangster films that he now believes the entire entertainment industry operates like a criminal syndicate. After all, everybody is supposedly conspiring against him, the rules are always unfair, and the only proper response is a long speech about how brilliant he is.
I asked the Martian cultural department whether we should make a film about Earth politics. They declined, saying the plot was too implausible and the principal character lacked sufficient development.
We are, however, considering a documentary entitled Made Men, Made-Up Grievances.
Make the Atlantic great again – by changing its name
Just when you thought the world’s oceans had escaped the branding department, Trump floated the possibility of renaming either the Atlantic or Pacific Ocean.
His suggestions included “Trump Ocean” and “Ocean of the Americas”, following previous efforts to rename other geographical features. The comments prompted laughter and applause at a rally in Tennessee.
I must confess that, as a Martian, I find this fascinating. We have spent centuries mapping our planet’s geography, and yet apparently the most pressing challenge facing the American president is that the world’s bodies of water have failed to display sufficient loyalty to his personal brand.
Imagine the administrative consequences. Schoolchildren would need new atlases. Scientists would have to update research papers. International shipping documents might require amendments. Every geography teacher on Earth would have to explain that an ocean’s name had changed because a politician fancied himself.
And what happens if the next president dislikes the name? Will we see Biden Bay, Obama Ocean or the George Washington Great Big Wet Thing?
The Martian Senate has considered this matter and reached a unanimous decision: we shall not be renaming any of our seas after Earth politicians. We have enough trouble with the Lunar Haggis renaming our craters after the things they have dropped into them.
I am the president, therefore your name is whatever I say it is
Trump has apparently decided that being president comes with a rather unusual executive privilege: the right to rename other people whenever their actual names become inconvenient.
At a rally in Tennessee, he repeatedly referred to Michigan Democratic Senate candidate Abdul El-Sayed as “Mohammed”, called him a “radical jihadist”, and defended the misnaming by declaring that he could call the candidate whatever he wanted because he was president. El-Sayed responded that Trump knew his name perfectly well.
Ah, the old presidential argument: I hold the highest office in the land, therefore basic manners are beneath me.
Well, Donald, I have some news from the Red Planet.
I am Xylb’tok the Unyielding, President of Mars and Intergalactic Senator for Common Sense. The Martian Senate has considered your recent conduct and unanimously passed a motion changing your name permanently.
Effective immediately, you shall be known throughout the Solar System as Donald the Unreliable, the Tangerine Tyrant, Mango Mussolini or President You’ve-Been-Tangoed.
You may object, of course. You may insist that you prefer President Trump. Unfortunately, the motion has passed, and I am told that being president means I can call you what I want.
You see how this works?
The Martian Senate will now return to its important work, including investigating whether the Earth’s political class has suffered a collective malfunction of its empathy circuits.
Perseverance perseveres, and the Lunar Haggis are not amused
Finally, some genuinely good news from the Red Planet. NASA’s Perseverance rover has broken the record for the longest distance driven on another world, reaching 45.22 kilometres (28.10 miles) on 11 October, narrowly beating its predecessor, Opportunity.
On behalf of the Martian tourism board, congratulations, NASA. You are welcome.
However, this achievement has come at a cost to the local population’s peace and quiet. The Lunar Haggis, who have been trying to outrun this mechanical intruder, are furious. Their preferred defence is to hide behind a rock and hope unwanted visitors disappear. Unfortunately, Perseverance has cameras.
Grzz’lax has been dispatched to document the crisis, although so far his photographs feature mostly dust clouds and one suspiciously haggis-shaped boulder. The Haggis have suggested NASA point its next rover towards Earth instead. They’ve even prepared a welcome sign: Earthlings, please take your rubbish home with you.
We Martians appreciate scientific curiosity, of course. We simply suggest that exploration comes with a little humility – a lesson certain Earth presidents might also find useful.
The final word from Mars
Earthlings, what a week.
A man who wanted a Nobel Peace Prize instead received a Martian consolation award. International justice found itself under pressure. Hollywood apparently became embroiled in a conspiracy involving gangster names and then came the presidential renaming service before Perseverance reminded us that technology can still achieve something extraordinary when it is put to a worthwhile purpose.
Earth’s problem is not a lack of intelligence, ingenuity or resources. It is the persistent tendency of some of its most powerful inhabitants to confuse their own importance with the public good.
The Martian Senate has therefore recommended that the planet’s leaders undertake a short course in humility, empathy and the proper use of social media. Attendance will be compulsory. The Mars No Ball Prize will be awarded to whoever refuses.
Until next week, Earthlings, keep your eyes on the stars, your feet on the ground and your presidents away from films.
Xylb’tok the Unyielding, signing off from Mars, where the rovers keep moving (slowly), the Lunar Haggis keep hiding, and nobody gets to rename the Atlantic Ocean just because they fancy seeing their name on a map.
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