Our extraterrestrial's epidermal state

Civilisation has long wrestled with questions of cosmic import. Is there life beyond Earth? What is consciousness? Will India ever have a clean-shaven PM again? And, most pressingly, was E.T. - Steven Spielberg's doe-eyed extraterrestrial - slimy or dry? Last weekend, the maestro himself weighed in, and humanity can exhale. E.T. was 'a little moist, but never slimy'. Spielberg elaborated that the world's favourite alien was only dry when it got sick. Adding that E.T. never had 'tendrils of drool' that marked the Alien of Ridley Scott's SF-horror flick. Now, it was slimy.

This revelation isn't trivial. For decades, philosophers, fans and dermatologists have speculated about E.T.'s epidermal state. Was his glowing finger lubricated by interstellar mucus? Did his wrinkled torso require moisturiser? Spielberg's verdict settles the matter: E.T. was as moist as a raisin on a pulao. Now, the implications are vast. Moist E.T. means fewer logistical nightmares for intergalactic immigration. No need for slime-proof upholstery or alien hydrating kits. It also repositions E.T. from the amphibian aisle to the mammalian shelf of pop culture taxonomy. Some will insist Spielberg is covering up something so that no one can get under E.T.'s skin. Others will argue that 'moist' is relative - moist compared to what? A politician's handshake? A monsoon afternoon?