More Humans are Weird
Because this hash tag is SO FUN and thought-provoking.
No one can keep up with humans and gender. There are no easy signs to tell who is what, not clothing, not body morphology, not how they paint themselves or their grooming or vestigal hair. The humans themselves argue about how many genders there are. Eventually they quit trying and refer to all humans as ‘they’. Most humans are fine with that, even compliment them on their support (?) and progressive views (??). A few humans are offended, but are shouted down by their other humans. The other beings of the galaxy officially give up.
Some humans want to have sex all the time. Others barely can stand to be touched at all, even casually. Some will have sex with their own gender, which does not produce offspring and is confusing to many. Some will have sex only with certain people, some will have sex with anyone. SOME will have sex with other species, occasionally challenging their own safety and everyone else’s. None of this is considered strange. Anyone saying it is strange is again shouted down and shamed into silence. The other beings of the galaxy officially give up.
Humans adopt small predators as pets and kiss their “widdle faces” and giggle over their clawed toes (???) and fuss and are thrilled when the predators sleep with them (isn’t that UNSAFE? IT IS FULL OF POINTY BITS) and often sport scratches and bite marks inflicted when the animal was ‘playing’.
“When were these ‘cats’ domesticated?”
“Oh, we never really domesticated them. We just let them move into the house with us. Aren’t they CUUUUUTE? Come here, baby.” -kissy noises-
The other beings of the galaxy again give up.
Wars fought. Millions - probably billions, through history - killed. Crew members huffy with each other. Various holidays celebrated, none of which make sense, some of them celebrating events that are physically impossible and could not have happened. All for something that can’t be proved.
The other beings of the galaxy would think this was all an elaborate prank if it wasn’t for the body count.
Humans get INFECTED and act as if it is a personal affront, and cuss about it. They confine themselves to quarters so they don’t infect the rest of the crew - very kind, in that respect - and otherwise wrap themselves in bedding and bitch about it for three days while doing their work by remote - “It’s fine, just a cold.” followed by horrifying noises they call ‘coughing’ and ‘sneezing’ - and HOW. HOW DO THEY EVEN.
The other beings of the galaxy, for whom infection is always life-threatening, boggle from a safe distance. With respirators on.
They come from a death planet, these naked apes with no armor, no fangs, no speed. They have the ability to conquer the galaxy, if they only agreed with each other long enough that it was their goal. Instead they poke their noses into other death worlds, ‘exploring’, they call it, adopting horrifying creatures and making friends with other predatory beings, brewing poisonous beverages from whatever they can scrounge, which they then drink for fun. The rest of the galaxy is relieved. If humans had an attention span, they would truly be in trouble.
No one wants to know what a ‘shark’ is. Humans seem to be afraid of them, and if it frightens the humans, the rest of the galaxy is, to a being, terrified.