In a turn of extraterrestrial tally-ho that no one saw coming, The Cheese-like Overseers And Residents (COAR) - the previously unacknowledged Lunar Homeowner Association - has tired of keeping shtum and has finally voiced its off-worldly discontent over Earth's rampant and seemingly 'unauthorized' satellite installations being launched willy-nilly on the Moon.
COAR, an interstellar body of Lunar homeowners, made up primarily of well-intentioned moon-dust collectors and alien day-trippers with a penchant for zero-gravity watercolors, has characterized Earth's latest astronomical escapades as 'galactic gentrification,' branding Earthlings as the 'reckless squatters of the cosmos.'
The COAR chairbeing, known only to us as 'Grimble Clorptooth III', was in an abrasive mood when we sent an astral correspondent to carve out an interview directly from the Lunar surface. Clad in only the kind of finery that the moon's best-dressed meteorite crunchers might wear on their crater-hopping weekends, Clorptooth aired his grievances through his preferred method of telepathic yodeling.
"Vexatiously vibrant accumulations of your anthropogenic apparatus are irking us!" Clorptooth yodeled in varying octaves, his irritation clearly telegraphed by a troubling spike in Lunar seismic activity. "Your relentless erection of technological whatchamacallits on our heavenly bodies is nothing but a ruthless usurpation of celestial rights."
While Clorptooth's yodels painted a picture of disgruntlement, his language conveyed the deep-rooted concerns of COAR that center around the idea of Astronomical Apartheid: the segregation of the cosmos at the behest of a technologically advanced society.
"If we, Lunar homeowners, decided to descend upon your earthly backyards and set up camp with bunting, fairy lights and intergalactic fondue sets, there would be an uproar," Clorptooth asserted, sending ripples of agitation through the vacuum of space.
Clorptooth further raised awareness about the 'Moon Tax' issue - an extraterrestrial analogue of Earth's property tax. While one would assume that Moon-based beings are free from the shackles of residential taxation, it appears that taxman cometh even on celestial bodies.
Adding to the woes of our now disgruntled lunar homeowners is the concern over Earth's increasing light pollution. Conveying an issue that might seem light-years away from human understanding, Clorptooth explained, "It's all sparkly, shiny, and swanky until somebody's Lunar bedtime gets interrupted! What's sleep hygiene, people?"
In the absence of intergalactic diplomacy, this new revelation marks a seismic shift in Earth-Moon relations. Such lunar disgruntlement may leave us Earthlings navigating uncharted territories, both in outer space and in the finer arts of extraterrestrial decorum.
It remains to be seen how terra-firma-dwelling folks will negotiate this sudden astronomical angst. As we all take stock of what interstellar etiquette inevitably lies ahead, perhaps it's high time we reviewed our 'Good Neighbor Policy' for a revision and an expansion that could cross the Karman Line.
But until we earthbound types can extend an olive branch across the vacuum of space, we can do little but gaze up at that stark Lunar landscape, bearing in mind that we might just be looking at the universe's most galactically peeved off neighborhood watch.