Stop Complaining That I, Zathbog of Planet Cibwarv, Am Inflating U.S. Housing Prices

Photograph by Jörg Modrow/laif/Redux

I’m told there’s a familiar narrative that unfolds whenever you try to buy property in a cosmopolitan American city these days. You find a place that you like, put in a bid that’s well above the asking price (just to be safe), and prepare to celebrate, even though the place itself isn’t very nice. It actually pretty much sucks. But it’s a place, and it’s sort of within walking distance of some stuff, so you’re excited. Then you get a call from your broker, who says that you’ve been outbid. “Don’t tell me,” you say. “Yup,” she replies. “It’s yet another alien gazillionaire parking cash in American real estate as a hedge against the volatile economy of his home planet.” This story must be getting old, but you have to stop complaining. It’s simply how the intergalactic economic system works now.

I understand your frustration—really, I do. Because of alien magnates like me, you can’t afford to own property (or even part of a floor of a property) in the city where you work and live. And it’s not like you’re middle-class or anything. You and your spouse make a lot of money at the corporate jobs you took so that you could afford to live in neighborhoods full of competing chain pharmacies and consumer banks. You’ll just have to come to grips with the fact that you’re not rich enough. You could look into the interstellar mining industry, where I made my gazillions, but—oh, wait, I forgot, your spaceships are awful and can’t even get to the star systems with valuable deposits. Never mind.

Seriously, though, from my perspective, real estate in cities like New York and San Francisco is simply a great way to protect space cash. If you think economies on Earth are fragile, you should see what happens to Cibwarvian currencies when Vergharsh Belt militants train a plasmatic annihilation beam on our central bank. Your planet, on the other hand, is safe, and not only because you’re not advanced enough to participate in intergalactic wars. Contrary to your Earth-centric science fiction, no one is going to invade your planet to steal valuable natural resources. You don’t have any. But what you do have is a lot of real estate that no one but incredibly rich people (and aliens) can afford. And not just in cities like New York, San Francisco, and Miami. My friend SBBGGGG!!% was telling me just the other day to think about buying in places like Nashville and Denver, because prices in bigger cities have already become too inflated by wealthy alien investors.

I know what you’re thinking: all this is great for you, Zathbog, but what about us Americans? Are we just supposed to be O.K. pissing our money away to landlords, so that you—a being who lives thousands of parsecs away and has three external stomachs covered in bioluminescent slime—can shelter your assets? The short answer is, well, yes. Check back with me when you’re creating jobs in three galaxies.

Listen, I know what it’s like to struggle. I came from nothing. I grew up in Cibwarv’s southern hemisphere, long before it became a haven for artists. When I started my career, I was dead broke and living with my parents. I had to commute two parsecs (each way!) to the Nidblurg System for an unpaid internship. But I busted my ass and stayed late every night—and this was when it wasn’t a great idea to enter southern Cibwarv’s atmosphere after dark. So before you have a breakdown, imagine getting stuck on a space bus that has been commandeered by Uzleerbian space pirates looking to harvest Cibwarvian gall bladders (a delicacy on Uzleerb). Have you ever wondered what it’s like to have fewer gall bladders than stomachs? No? Well, the next time you get all up in arms about losing a bid on a condo, think about it. Think about the pain I had to endure to get where I am. But, if you work hard and take bile substitutes, one day you, too, might be able to afford your city’s high-end real estate.

Or else you could always move to Detroit before it recovers too much.