Consider fuel–we humans are pretty cavalier about our food supply over the
long haul. We have famines because of distribution problems, soil damage/loss,
and crop failures, but the idea that there will come a time when we won’t be
able to find or produce any food at all doesn’t cross our
minds…because we live on renewable resources. We do not need advanced
machinery to find/raise fuel for ourselves. A farming community parked on
reasonably fertile land with some fairly simple tools (”fairly simple” meaning
“possible to make without using electricity, gasoline engines, or synthetic
chemicals”) and a few wagonloads of seeds can sustain itself indefinitely in
the same spot–and even produce enough extra to feed other communities,
depending on soil fertility and farming techniques. (Some draft animals make
the potential surplus MUCH higher.) One handful of seed can, if handled
properly, eventually produce quite a bit more than another handful of seed–crop
plants are astonishingly prolific.
It just occurred to me that sometime after first contact, as humanity learned just how weird we are among intelligent species, someone would start printing T-shirts with pictures of all the weird stuff humans do–bond to everything, throw things, eat capsaicin, make things that shouldn’t work work, breathe oxygen, live in places no alien would dream of even visiting, pursuit predation/endurance running, artificial limbs, body art, extreme sports, (whatever I’m forgetting)–with the words, “It’s a human thing. You wouldn’t understand.”
I guarantee that it would be super popular with humans
We revel in the things that make us different, which is weird for a hyper social species like us. Those shirts would sell better than any other design ever
We like being different in groups,
really. We’re gregarious to a fault–even our introverts eventually want to at least see another of our own kind. (It just takes longer for us to get lonely.) What might confuse/bemuse aliens is that humans aren’t content to belong to
just one or two groups. We identify ourselves (or are identified by others) as
members of all manners of group. We’re members of immediate and extended
families. We identify as members of an occupational group. We’re fans of _____.
We belong to this culture, that religion, this social class. Race, gender,
introvert/extrovert, allergies and medical conditions, life experiences good
and bad, hobbies, parent/grandparent status, generation, political affiliation,
food preferences, hometown–all that stuff large and small, trivial and
not-so-trivial, we easily pile one group membership on top of another and
another and another, without confusion.
What if the Humans in Space are most known for being suckers. Like, if you have some junk but don’t know how to get rid of it, just find a human to sell it to. Some humans may refuse to buy it, but you’ll find a human willing to buy it before you find anyone else who will.
And yeah, aliens get a bit of a bad rep among humans for that. Like, “Why in the world are they always trying to sell me junk?!?! I came out here to find exotic commodities, and this is what I get?! Screw space, I’m going home.”
But the clever humans encourage this reputation, and manage to get a lot of junk for really cheap prices because at least then the seller will get something out of the deal. And then the clever humans take the junk and reduce, reuse, and recycle the dickens out of it.
Aliens begin to take notice of how these humans seem happy buying junk and yet always find a way to use it, and the aliens find this to be quite puzzling.
“Why do you not buy new parts, Fred? Surely you can afford to do so by now.”
“Well, sure I can, John – is it okay if I nickname you John? – but then where would all this junk go? I’d rather make it usable than clutter up the galaxy. Have you never heard of pollution? Better to Reduce, Reuse, and Recycle junk than have it clogging up your home environment. Humans have been doing it for generations back on Earth.”
*Blank stare*
“Besides, why spend money when I don’t have to?”
And humans begin to be known as resourceful penny-pinchers as well.
Humans don’t always reuse things for the purposes for which they were designed, either. Aside from art installations (”Friend Reggie, why is there half an escape pod with a–is that a bird…?” “I think it’s supposed to be some kind of alien chicken thing hatching out of the pod. Don’t ask me about the daisies and polka dots. All I can tell you is what my dad told me–if it’s large, ugly, in a public place and you don’t understand it, it’s probably art.”), humans have that MacGyver crazy-genius for making whatever they have do suit whatever purpose there may be. We applaud and admire those who come up with particularly creative ways to use old things. We’ll make jewelry and hair ornaments out of pretty much anything that isn’t toxic to the touch. Musical instruments out of anything that can be coaxed into making a sound that doesn’t cause permanent hearing damage in under five seconds. Toys out of anything we’re pretty sure won’t hurt the kids. (”You use transportation parts to entertain your young?” “Sure, my kids love the tire swing!”) Costumes out of anything we can lift. (”What is that supposed to be?” “I’m a space station traffic transceiver with a pigeon problem! I made the pigeons’ steampunk gear out of a couple old type-translator machines I got on Elria-2. Cool, huh?”)
Yes, that is a mass-produced piece of cloth, stuffing and buttons. Yes, it is identical to thousands of other items. No, you can not get the human a new mass-produced piece of cloth, stuffing and buttons to fill the same function. Only this mass-produced item can fill the function.
The function is somewhat unclear.
The mass-produced piece of clothing, stuffing and buttons must always be in a place of honor in the living quarters. The mass-produced item is not allowed to be covered with other items or fall over. That is bad for the mass-produced piece of clothing, stuffing and buttons even though it is not physically harmed. Items indicating actual honors, such as certificates or medals, can be covered or fall down. That is acceptable.
If the mass-produced piece of clothing, stuffing and buttons has unacceptably fallen on the ground where it may be inadvertently nudged with one’s mobility appendages, that is very bad and disrespectful to the item. Apologies are required, but should be directed at both item and human. The item will not reply.
The human may engage the mass-produced piece of clothing, stuffing and buttons in conversation. Most mass-produced items lack the capability to make any sound, and those that were produced with the capability are limited to prerecorded generic comments not indicative of sentience. Furthermore, the mass-produced item is incapable of any other response type, including movement, radio wave transmission, or temperature manipulation. The human will not appear to notice.
Further study is being done to determine if there is another dimension of life humans are attuned to but have not recorded in the scientific literature.
“There ARE indications that some force occasionally animates these treasured objects. Human media contain many stories of inanimate objects abruptly becoming self-aware and acting autonomously. It is possible that a small fraction of humans possess latent telekinetic or transformative abilities. It is also possible that irresponsible ancient Yiteki dropped self-replicating microdroids onto Earth at some point in its pre-civilization past, and that some of those droids have survived the toxic environment and occasionally get the opportunity to colonize and partially convert an artifact as per partially-intact programming. Further research is required to rule out this and other potential explanations for the phenomena.”
(Couldn’t resist after the above comment about what a warrior species would do if confronted with a haka.)
When the humans went to space, they took their myriad of cultures with them. As space travelers choosing to join mixed-species crews are by definition open to new experiences and cultural exchange, and given the human tendencies toward gregariousness and pack bonding through ritual, it became very common for a ship to arrive in port not only bursting with new cultural material for scholars to study but also entirely new rituals invented “for the fun of it”. Humans had a marvelous time trying to blend elements of every culture represented on board–and occasionally performances by some of their less-deadly pets–into a game or ceremony all could participate in. They were also capable of turning almost anything into an excuse to wear bizarre costumes and throw a party.
It began as a joke among the xenobiologists. Cataloguing the flora and fauna of hitherto unsurveyed life-bearing worlds is both a tedious and terrifying job. Locating the large and numerous life forms is easy, and the processes of capture and analysis provide a pleasant challenge after prolonged journeys through transwarp space. However, after the easy life comes the small, the hidden, and the potentially dangerous. There are cautionary tales galore of survey crews that let down their guards, neglected a crucial isolation step, or were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, and paid with their lives as a result. The mixture of repetitive, time-consuming work and perennial anxiety can lead to all manner of untoward and crude behavior, including humor in poor taste. Crews returning from survey missions are routinely put through re-socialization training to restore their moral and ethical standards.
I’m convinced that humans have the shittiest of reputation in the Universe
(Have to reblog this because of the line on the poster “If you see a human, throw a puppy at them and RUN.” Leaving aside the danger to the puppy, the idea of “use the cute response to slow down the invading murder-apes” is hilarious. Picture aliens developing the technology to prolong the puppy phase for years on end, so they could have a human-diverter defense on hand and ready to go the moment humans found their well-concealed base. “They found us! Activate the emergency evacuation flitters and release the puppies!”)
Going off how the Humans are Space Orcs and “Humans bond with anything despite obvious danger” that annoys the rest of the alien crew, think about them being introduced to earth oceans
After all it’s common to have to always remove their human from unknown likely dangerous life forms despite constant protests and that they were only “playing”
they start to notice that their human never really speaks of their earths sea creatures, which makes sense as the humans organs aren’t equipped to survive in that environment despite being able to “swim” (it is a common theory discussed that humans could survive if given no option to otherwise as that’s what they always seem to do)
curious and nervous, a rookie of the crew, decides to ask (the veterans have learned not to ask about earth as it always ends in confusion and horror)
Only to be told that “they aren’t really sure”, in human speak this can mean many things. One is that they never looked, another is that they were honestly telling the truth.
Confused, they ask again as surely the species that does everything to fulfill their curiosity would surly know what fills 75% of their surface?
Only to be told of creatures that are the length of their ship with a jaw just as wide. Of creatures that glow to attract and trap their pray. And that there was never a pod that was created could withstand the pressure of deepest depths. Or if it could, the visual feed would always disappear within rows of jagged teeth. And that are only the stories that have been proven. There are stories of the old ages, of creatures that could drown you with the sound of their voice, of things only seen in the shadows with a glimpse of sharp teeth.
Humans don’t go in the ocean, they learn. Humans that are made of iron and steel, known to bond with anything, and a curiosity that defies all known logic don’t dare to explore the depths of their own planet.
The crew learn that the only thing to terrify their human are the creatures that lurk in the oceans of their own earth.
Everything must seem tame to them compared to the monster planet that they call home.
just moving along like everyone else 