I love how humans have literally not changed throughout history like the graffiti from Pompeii has people from hundreds of years ago writing stuff like “Marcus is gay” “I fucked a girl here” “Julius your mum wishes she was with me” and leonardo da vinci’s assistants drew dicks in their notebooks just for the banter and mozart created a piece called “kiss my ass” so when people wish for ‘today’s generation’ to be like ‘how people used to’ then we’re already there buddy we’ve always been
The Hagia Sophia has inscriptions that were considered sacred for centuries until they were deciphered in the 70s to be Nordic runes saying “Halfdan wrote this”
my old english prof told us that theres a cave in Scandinavia where a viking gratified some runes like 14 feet up on the wall and when they finally reached it all it translated into was “this is very high”
Ancient Shitposting
Now on the History Channel
‘People have literally just always been people’ is genuinely my favorite fact about the world
“Times are bad. Children no longer obey their parents, and everyone is writing a book.” – Marcus Tullius Cicero, 106 BC – 43 BC
Aliens have invaded and are taking over. Their technology, intelligence, and power is unstoppable. They just didnt plan on one thing: The old gods returning.
When they first arrived, we were overjoyed. Proof that we weren’t alone
in the universe, that there were other races to share and exchange technologies
with! Their arrival brought about world peace – with other life forms out
there, we needed to present a united front. World hunger and poverty was solved
within a decade, a demonstration to our new friends that we were worthy of the
responsibility of exploring the galaxy.
They disagreed.
They accessed our histories, they saw everything, and they recoiled in
horror. They could not fathom the world we had created, and the solutions we
had brought about not because it was the right thing to do, but to impress
them.
They were not impressed. They told us, regret tinging the translators,
that we could not be trusted as keepers of this world. The damage we had done
was coming close to being irreparable, and for our own good they’d need to take
over.
I have to say, I agreed – humans are terrible. But the funny thing
about humanity is, even if something is right, if it means giving up our
control, it is wrong.
We fought back.
At first we fought back democratically. This race that had descended
from the stars was peaceful, never seeming to favour violence. We didn’t think
they’d start killing indiscriminately. We didn’t think they’d take inspiration
from our own history books.
As with so many other things, we were wrong.
An extreme group of humans succeeded in ambushing and killing several
of their high-ranking Xenos. Human lives were lost in the process, but the
extremists saw that as a necessary sacrifice, a means to an end. The Xenos had
been shown that we wouldn’t tolerate their kind here, that they should leave
and let us get on with things how we always have.
Within days, war had been declared, and we learned why we should have
tried harder. Had they decided to simply fight the moment they touched down, to
systematically advance and wipe out every human life they came across, we
wouldn’t have stood a chance. Their weapons, armour, tactics, the sheer
firepower and the size of their armies were beyond comprehension. Out of rage
and grief, they marched over us, and began the slow process of wiping us out.
Bullets couldn’t pierce their armour and shields, rockets fell to the ground
lifeless, and even nuclear devices were somehow disabled mid-flight.
Still we fought back. Humans never have figured out how to give up when
all hope is lost.
There was no formal resistance of rebellion, we simply gathered,
fought, and survived where we could. When something new happened, it took
weeks, months, to reach every last survivor.
And then, something unbelievable happened.
Stories started filtering through to the pockets of us in hiding, strange
stories – a freak electrical storm in Greece that appeared from a clear blue
sky and wiped out a thousand of them in less than 15 minutes; Xenos impaled on
braches of rare trees, some kind of grisly warning that we chalked up to particularly
violent survivors in that area; whole armies frozen to death because the
temperature around them had dropped too quickly for their environmental suits
to keep up with. Freak weather patterns that worked in our favour, violent
survivors, terrain they couldn’t navigate. That’s what we told ourselves when
the stories filtered through.
But then they got weirder. There were stories of Xenos being swallowed
by the ground itself. A pack of wolves, larger than anything ever before seen
appeared from a crack in a mountain range to storm through an encampment and
kill every last Xenos. There was a massive surge in the number of corvids
around the world, and they always seemed to congregate where the Xenos were
thickest… days before something killed everything. Then they’d vanish, and more
corvids would appear somewhere else. Harbingers, just like the old tales.
One day a massive seafaring vessel chasing a fishing trawler was pulled
under the water – no reefs or icebergs in the area, and the sea mines had long
been disarmed and deactivated. I spoke to a man who had been in the sloop
running from the Xenos ship, and he swore blind the Kraken had got it, the
tentacles alone bigger than the tiny boat he’d been huddled on. He shuddered
and drank too much, and I put it down to hallucinations caused by a bad batch
of moonshine. There was no such thing as monsters.
Then we heard about warriors. We heard about chariots, of all things,
chasing down whole platoons of Xenos in Egypt, chariots so bright it felt like
staring into the sun; a huge hound with three heads was spotted in Greece, a
man in shadows and a woman of light removing the leash as Xenos advanced on
them; a woman showed up in Iceland standing head and shoulders above the
tallest man there, with an army of her own. They didn’t seem to fall in battle,
and pushed the Xenos back, fighting with sword and shield and spear, a fury
that our alien invaders couldn’t match.
Humanoid creatures with eyes of fire supposedly began granting wishes
over in Syria, as long as your wish was for them to kill your enemies. There
were sightings in Ireland of pure white horses, horses that once ridden wouldn’t
let you off, that dragged people into bogs and rivers. Tales came out of brazil of monstrously large snakes, sometimes
with the faces of women, dragging aliens into the gloom of the rivers and
rainforests.
But there’s no such thing as monsters.
I finally believed when I saw three women facing down the largest army
of Xenos I’d ever come across – at least twelve thousand by my counting. I’d
been running from a scouting party, and when I stumbled out of the treeline onto
a road I realised they’d chased me right into the path of the oncoming horde.
The moment you face your death is a strange one. Everything felt calm
except the thundering of my pulse in my ears, and the crows that seemed to come
from nowhere to blot out the sun.
Then three women strolled into the road in front of me, placing
themselves between me and the advancing army. A young woman, barely out of
girlhood; someone who could have easily been my mother; and a woman so old she
was almost bent double. It was the oldest who strode towards the mass of Xenos
without any fear, leading the other two towards their deaths, and the din of
the crows got louder.
The youngest one glanced my way and smiled playfully, and something
from my grandmother’s tales made me flatten myself to the ground, hands clamped
firmly over my ears.
The scream started low, in the back of the old woman’s throat,
travelling through the ground and making every bone in my body shudder with the
vibration. Realisation began to dawn on me as Maiden and Mother joined in with
their Crone, and the scream climbed to a crescendo that could have shattered glass.
Even with my hands tight over my ears it pierced me to my core, a screaming
agony that made me want to curl in on myself and die.
I survived because it wasn’t meant for me.
The Xenos, however, felt the full force of the rage these women contained.
An entire planet’s worth of grieving poured out of them in this shriek, rooting
their enemies to the ground with the difference in tone and pitch between these
three women telling their stories.
The mother stood tall and resolute, screaming her grief at these
invaders, a mother mourning all of her children.
The crone’s low snarl was that of war. Weary of the fighting but always
ready to defend what’s hers, she growled her challenge, and the Xenos couldn’t
stand against it.
The maiden was hope, the only act of defiance in a world on the edge of
ruin. When everything was dust, when the last stragglers of humanity were
contemplating giving up, she was the hope that kept them fighting.
Part of me wondered how many shirts they’d washed, how many rivers they’d
wept together, before standing up and saying “no more.”
The scream stopped abruptly, leaving me feeling like the breath had all
been sucked out of me, a void in the air around me that rushed back in and
filled my lungs with a long, shuddering gasp.
I opened my eyes to carnage. The Xenos had died where they’d stood,
their organs haemorrhaging, what passed for blood pouring from every orifice,
their eyes turning to liquid in their skulls. Bodies were everywhere, and the
crows circling overhead had fallen silent, uninterested in the feast this must
have surely been for them.
The Morrigan was one woman now, ageless and terrifying.
“Get up, child.” She commanded, and I had no choice but to obey,
trembling legs pushing me to my feet. She reached out a hand, and gently wiped a
trail of blood away from my ear. “Did you really think we’d abandoned you?” She
murmured, and the crows descended, carrying her to the next battle.
Monsters are real, and some of them look like people. But the Gods are
also real, and they still believe in us.
So I’m still fighting, and my battle cry is full of hope.
What if alien psychology is different in such a way that when presented with facts that contradict their opinions, aliens are like “Oh, okay. Guess I was wrong.” I imagine word would get around the galaxy pretty quickly that arguing with a human is a BAD idea, even if you’re sure you’re right.
It’s kind of amusing to hear all this talk about humans being an apex predator species – I mean, I love it, but technically, by our own standards of rating predators, we aren’t, because we still have animals around on Earth that will munch us down if push comes to shove. We’re not like bears or wolves or any of the really big members of the big cat family – yes, we can and do hunt, but as often as not we foraged.
Heck, we still do that in many ways, even in the urban environments we have made for ourselves. We are the species that will stare you in the eye as we steal the food off your plate, then add insult to injury by checking to make sure it’s clean enough, get everywhere we’re not supposed to because we are cunning little buggers that are hard to keep out, will hoard shiny things even though we know they aren’t useful because they are shiny, okay, and then we’ll go and do something adorable so that you love us anyway, at least until you notice that we’ve just scuttled off with half your wiring because we needed it for something important.
Humans aren’t the wolves or tigers or bears of the universe.
So there has been a bit of “what if humans were the weird ones?” going around tumblr at the moment and Earth Day got me thinking. Earth is a wonky place, the axis tilts, the orbit wobbles, and the ground spews molten rock for goodness sakes. What if what makes humans weird is just our capacity to survive? What if all the other life bearing planets are these mild, Mediterranean climates with no seasons, no tectonic plates, and no intense weather?
What if several species (including humans) land on a world and the humans are all “SCORE! Earth like world! Let’s get exploring before we get out competed!” And the planet starts offing the other aliens right and left, electric storms, hypothermia, tornadoes and the humans are just … there… counting seconds between flashes, having snowball fights, and just surviving.
To paraphrase one of my favorite bits of a ‘humans are awesome’ fiction megapost: “you don’t know you’re from a Death World until you leave it.” For a ton of reasons, I really like the idea of Earth being Space Australia.
Earth being Space Australia
Words cannot express how much I love these posts
Alien: “I’m sorry, what did you just say your comfortable temperature range is?”
Human: “Honestly we can tolerate anywhere from -40 to 50 Celcius, but we prefer the 0 to 30 range.”
Alien: “……. I’m sorry, did you just list temperatures below freezing?”
Human: “Yeah, but most of us prefer to throw on scarves or jackets at those temperatures it can be a bit nippy.”
Other human: “Nah mate, I knew this guy in college who refused to wear anything past his knees and elbows until it was -20 at least.”
Human: “Heh. Yeah everybody knows someone like that.”
Alien: “……. And did you also say 50 Celcius? As in, half way to boiling?”
Human: “Eugh. Yes. It sucks, we sweat everywhere, and god help you if you touch a seatbelt buckle, but yes.”
Alien: “……. We’ve got like 50 uninhabitable planets we think you might enjoy.”
“You’re telling me that you have… settlements. On islands with active volcanism?”
“Well, yeah. I’m not about to tell Iceland and Hawaii how to live their lives. Actually, it’s kind of a tourist attraction.”
“What, the molten rock?”
“Well, yeah! It’s not every day you see a mountain spew out liquid rocks! The best one is Yellowstone, though. All these hot springs and geysers from the supervolcano–”
“You ACTIVELY SEEK OUT ACTIVE SUPERVOLCANOES?”
“Shit, man, we swim in the groundwater near them.”
Sounds like the “Damned” trilogy by Alan Dean Foster.
“And you say the poles of your world would get as low as negative one hundred with wind chill?”
“Yup, with blizzards you cant see through every other day just about.”
“Amazing! when did you manage to send drones that could survive such temperatures?”
“… well, actually…”
“… what?”
“…we kinda……. sent……….. people…..”
“…”
“…”
“…what?”
“we sent-”
“no yeah I heard you I just- what? You sent… HUMANS… to a place one hundred degrees below freezing?”
“y-yeah”
“and they didn’t… die?”
“Well the first few did”
“PEOPLE DIED OF THE COLD AND YOUR SOLUTION WAS TO SEND MORE PEOPLE???!?!?!?”
My new favorite Humans are Weird quote
“PEOPLE DIED OF THE COLD AND YOUR SOLUTION WAS TO SEND MORE PEOPLE?”
aka The History of Russia
aka Arctic Exploration
aka The History of Alaska
Being from Alaska, this was sort of how I felt going to college in the lower 48′s and learned that no one else had been put through a literal survival camp as a regular part of their school curriculum, including but not limited to:
1. Learning to recognize all forms of animal tracks in the wild so you can avoid bears and moose and search out rabbits and other small animals to eat.
2. Extensive swimming and climbing on glacial pieces with competitions to see who could last the longest, followed by a group sit in the sauna so we wouldn’t get hypothermia (no, not kidding, I really did this many times as a kid!)
3. How to navigate using the stars to get back to civilization.
4. How to select the right type of moss from the trees to start a fire with damp wood (because, y’know, you’re in a field of snow. Nothing is dry.)
5. How to carve out a small igloo-like space to sleep in the snow to preserve body heat and reduce the windchill so you won’t freeze to death in the arctic.
“I’m telling you, I don’t think we need to worry about territory conflicts with the humans. You know all those deathtrap hell-worlds in the Argoth Cluster?” “Those worthless rocks? Yeah.” “80% of them are considered ‘resort destinations’ by those freaky little primates.”
“I’m telling you, they terraform for fun!” “Don’t be ridiculous” “No, seriously. Some of their most celebrated cultural loci are built on swamps. They have an entire city that is literally in a body of water. Not, like, an artificial pontoon city, they literally sunk the foundations into water. For Grilp’s sake, they build elaborate structures out of frozen water AND THEN SLEEP IN THEM.” “Dear Thilak. Think we could get them to terraform our moons?” “Psh, they’d probably pay for the privilege.”
Eventually, it occurs to someone that humans are the perfect terraforming shock troops, as it were. They think it’s fun to be sent to horrible planets! They’re really good at surviving and then taming them! All you have to do is sit back and wait until the planet is habitable, and then move there yourself! It’s genius.
It only takes one try before the reality of the situation sets in: human definitions of ‘taming’ and ‘habitable’ are woefully incomplete.
“Why did you not eliminate the venomous plant life?” Grahssk’ti moans, clutching one limb.
“Those?” The human laughs. “Why bother? They’re not that bad. And they eat the mosquitoes.”
Grahssk’ti shudders. The ‘mosquitoes’ are… not to be mentioned. Just one swarm of them caused a landing shuttle to crash three planetary daylights ago.
“And the acid storms? Why did you not warn us of them?”
“I mean, they’re annoying,” the human says, shrugging, “but we figured the cool sunsets made up for it.”
Grahssk’ti flails helplessly. “What about the ten-meter tall Fanged Death Bringers? They can eliminate an entire settlement in under an hour!”
“They’re so cute!” the human says, brightening. “Have you met mine? Her name is Spot!”
Humans are told of some planet or region of space that is considered “completely and utterly inhospitable – it would be folly to try and settle there.”
Without fail, a decent number make it a point to settle there because “Fuck You That’s Why.” It doesn’t matter how uneconomical it is, how difficult the conditions are, how utterly ridiculous it may seem, there will be at least one human who will attempt to do it only because someone else regardless of species says it is improbable or WORSE impossible.
“This moon is still forming as such it is primarily soft – by that I mean most of the magma is close to the surface and-”
‘OH BADASS you mean its like Mustafar right!?!?!?! I’m totally going to build a castle there.’
“What. I mean. There is NO fertile ground there whatsoever. No ecosystem. It is molten rock and minerals only.”
‘Which will make my castle there look METAL AS FUCK am I RIGHT!?!??! Come on. COME ON. I TAUGHT YOU HOW TO FISTBUMP COME ON.’
“….you….you are going to die, you know this right?”
‘I’m getting the feeling you don’t want to come to Lava Castle for some reason?’
This is the quality scifi I sign up for.
I honestly had to doublecheck that wasn’t me.
This feels like that Monty Python & the Holy Grail part about the castle in the swamp…
I don’t know why people keep saying humans are “soft and fleshy” in their humans are weird posts like…
Muscle is tough, people would be sturdy and hard. And our skin isn’t any softer than a snakes when it comes to cutting it with a knife.
And if we encountered a space dwelling species or one from a planet with low gravity they’d have incredibly weak muscle mass and respiratory systems compared to us.
Thought about “Humans are space orcs/space fae”. There was a line talking about how theres a human working on a ship but no-ones entirely sure if they’re meant to be there, but they didn’t want to like offend the terrifying space orc.
What if the “drifter” archetype continues into space? Like maybe we negotiated for free travel with one of our allies, but because humans come from a death world and are terrfiying, and because humans can be oblivious, we just assume we can board on any ship going anywhere, nbd?
like not as stowaways. we’re not hiding. Like those wolves and wild dogs in russia that use the railways. Are YOU going to tell a wolf they shouldn’t be riding the train?!? Thought not.
Ok, so, it’s always either Humans are Space Orcs or Humans are Weaklings. In reality, we can survive having poles shoved through our skulls but standing wrong can gives us muscle dysfunction.
just moving along like everyone else 