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The kindergarten-ification of society

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY SENSEI

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*releases pack of dads into home depot* go……be free

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Clark holding Bruce's hand someone tie me down I can't-

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world's finest

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if you're in the throes of cosmic despair i cannot recommend museums enough. art or science or history it doesn't matter. oh we're all connected, all of us and everything, throughout all time and space, and no one, no one, no one is alone? awesome. that's what i thought i just wanted to make sure.

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I love how these are from an Unreality subreddit but to my eye they just read like regular Tumblr shitposts. Did we cross-pollinate or something

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Humans are space orcs, but humans are real fucking sneaky and don't tell anyone they're predators after realizing that other sentient species are all prey. It starts out as wanting to assimilate without any negative stigma, but eventually they realize that we're really alone as sentient predators.

So q human goes on a research ship and that ship gets stranded on a deathworld and everyone freaks put bc they don't know how to handle this but the human's just like 'build shelter, hunt food, start a fire' and they're all like 'hunt food???!!' And they human's like 'shit'.

So they see a human climb trees, throw shit, track prey and realize 'oh no, that thing could kill us' but the human's helping and they don't really have the man power to get rid of them.

And eventually they realize the whole pack bonding thing is stronger than the predatory instincts and are relieved

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Consider. A human wakes up in a strange medical bay, with an alien doctor standing over them. Turns out their shuttle crashed, and the alien ship only just managed to teleport the, on board in time.

By some miracle, the doctor explains, they escaped with only minor injuries. Some burns, a few scratches and “several small wounds. We’re not sure what caused them.”

“Wounds?”

“Small holes in your ear lobes. Possibly they were old wounds and unrelated to the accident, but either way, our doctors were able to heal them for you. There’s not even any scarring.”

The human pauses. Thinks for a minute. “Wait… you unpierced my ears?!”

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Imagine an alien sharing a cool human fact they just learned like ”hey guys did you know that the silvery markings on humans actually aren’t true stripes? They’re called stretch marks, they happen when the human is growing fast enough to actually outgrow their skin, which is apparently something that just fucking happens to almost all of them at some point of their life.”

and another one is like ”wait so you’re saying humans don’t have stripes.”

”actually they do, but the stripes are invisible. There’s genetic code that’d give them stripes but they’re just the same colour as the rest of the skin. So the visible stripes are not real stripes and the real stripes are invisible.”

”I swear if you tell me one more weird human thing today I’m beating your ass.”

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They stop at Mars. There’s no reason not too. Xan’Toch wants this relationship to work, it’s been many years since there was a major intergalactic failing. Xan’Toch is not keen to repeat last time and the humans’ request to stop at world that is devoid of life is not the weirdest request Xan’Toch has received. 

The human is young and goes by the name Carrie. Xan’Toch has been informed that she is a female or a “woman” as she prefers. She carries with her a bag filled with old transmitters and outdated equipment. Her space suit is clearly higher tech, almost laughably so. She stands at a viewing port, intense in a way Xan’Toch cannot understand. What could be on this planet that is worth stopping for?

They land not far from the coordinates Carrie gave them. Curious and wanting to take notes on this strange new species, Xan’Toch asks to accompany Carrie on her mission. She agrees but seems more focused on getting out fo the airlock.

The bag seems to be heavy, and though Xan’Toch offers, Carrie says she will carry it herself. Xan’Toch makes a note–Humans are either possessive of things they deem theirs or stubborn. Either one could become an issue if they are pressed in the wrong way. Xan’Toch has been smoothing inter-species relationship for far too long to let details like that slip by. Though humans, by and large, are confusing and seem…disinclined in fitting into the categories Xan’Toch has organized most species into, every bit of information is important. 

Xan’Toch remains silent on their journey. They are heading for a ridge, and for the life of them, Xan’Toch cannot tell what the difference between this ridge and every other ridge on the planet is. But they keep their mouth shut, in fear of insulting Carrie. This species is one of many with confusing religions and Xan’Toch does not wish to insult a human god of some sort. 

She seems to know where she’s going, though how Xan’Toch doesn’t know how. Humanity has said they’ve never sent people past their moon. Carrie slows, struggling up the steeper terrain. Xan’Toch, of a hearty species, helps where they can. 

“There!” Carrie cries, sliding down a rock face. Xan’Toch winces–surely they know the dangers of damaging their space suit? Carrie doesn’t seem to care and is very busy dusting off–something. Xan’Toch approaches, confused. They cannot figure out what Carrie is cleaning off. They catch a reflection and suddenly the thing Carrie has found no longer seems to be a rock. 

It’s mechanical and old. Xan’Toch cannot name some of the parts that make it up but Carrie seems to know what to do. Which doesn’t make sense. Humans, as primitive as they are, have some very interesting and impressive bit of engineering. Whatever Carrie has found is outdated even to humans. 

“What is this?” Xan’Toch asks, hoping they haven’t crossed some invisible line.

“Opportunity,” Carrie replies, fixing hoses and replaces what looks like old solar panels. 

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Xan’Toch says, after several moments. 

Carries laughs, and shoots Xan’Toch what they know now to be a ‘grin.’ Something indicative of human happiness. “This is Opportunity,” She says, gesturing to the old machine, almost obscured by the dust and sand. “She was an exploratory Rover back in the early 2000s, gathering information on Mars. She was lost after a major dust storm came through, it knocked her solar panels and communications out. Her last broadcast….” Carrie looks back at the machine, apparently called ‘Opportunity.’ “She reported that her batteries were low….and that is was cold. After fifteen years, Opportunity finally stopped. She finally rested among the stars.”

Xan’Toch has lost the thread of this conversation. Carrie sounds…fond, sad even. Like this machine meant something more than exploration and science. Like it had been a friend, lost to a planet unknown. It doesn’t make sense. It is simply a tool. 

“You look confused,” Carrie comments but doesn’t seem surprised. “It’s…silly, but I grew up listening about Oppy’s adventures. Seeing her discoveries and getting excited when she found something new. When we lost contact…I cried. I wasn’t alone. Losing Oppy felt like losing a friend. She took thousands and thousands of pictures and took so many samples–she-she was here when we couldn’t be. We left a mark on Mars before we could stand on it. And now I’m here and…” Carrie swipes a hand across what looks to be an optical device. 

Xan’Toch has no words. Has to previous experience with this. from the sounds of it, humanity….bonded with this machine. Sent it off into space, followed its discoveries and mourned its final malfunction. 

“I can bring her back. Whether it’s just back online or back to Earth I don’t know yet. But…I had to stop. I had to see her, to let her know we hadn’t forgotten.”

What Carrie’s saying doesn’t make any sense to Xan’Toch. But what she’s saying is genuine, full of feeling. They do not know what to say or how to articulate it back to their superiors. So Xan’Toch does the only thing they can. 

They walk over and start digging Opportunity out of…her grave. 

The smile Carrie gives them is worth it. 

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Humans have finally managed to land on Mars, only to find a locked safe buried in the Martian soil. The key is apparently on Earth, but no one knows where.

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Humans are space orcs this, humans pack-bond with anything that, what if the real reason aliens love us is because we have perfectly-shaped hands for petting.

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"We call it vff," said the alien. "It's - it's hard to describe to a species without vffsense. Imagine trying to describe light to a species that never evolved eyes. But there are forms of life that are only perceptible with vffsense, and they've visited Earth and fed on life as long as it's existed here."

There was a pause.

Then the human said, "That's the worst thing you've ever said."

"Don't worry about it."

"I think I have to, now."

"No, because - well - you have a species of spider which pretends to be an ant, correct? It's not capable of understanding the fact that it's mimicking an ant, but it instinctually mimics an ant in order to deter predators."

"Sure?"

"Humans produce a vff to mimic varths, predators only perceptible through vffsense. The organisms that would like to feed on you are terrified of varths, and so they leave you alone. You aren't aware you do it, you don't have the capacity to understand you're doing it, but you evolved to instinctually do it to deter predators you can't see."

There was a pause.

Then the human said in a very soft and thoughtful voice, "And are there varths on Earth?"

"Yes," said the alien. "Everywhere. But don't worry about it."

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Humanity has finally reached the stars and found out why no one had contacted us. The universe is in a sad state. As such, Doctors without Borders, Red Cross, and many othe charities go intergalactic.

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Y'all, the world is sleeping on what NASA just pulled off with Voyager 1

The probe has been sending gibberish science data back to Earth, and scientists feared it was just the probe finally dying. You know, after working for 50 GODDAMN YEARS and LEAVING THE GODDAMN SOLAR SYSTEM and STILL CHURNING OUT GODDAMN DATA.

So they analyzed the gibberish and realized that in it was a total readout of EVERYTHING ON THE PROBE. Data, the programming, hardware specs and status, everything. They realized that one of the chips was malfunctioning.

So what do you do when your probe is 22 Billion km away and needs a fix? Why, you just REPROGRAM THAT ENTIRE GODDAMN THING. Told it to avoid the bad chip, store the data elsewhere.

Sent the new code on April 18th. Got a response on April 20th - yeah, it's so far away that it took that long just to transmit.

And the probe is working again.

From a programmer's perspective, that may be the most fucking impressive thing I have ever heard.

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plants that look like they're dying immediately after you forget to water them one (1) time but also recover immediately after you do are my best friends actually. very clear signals, hold no grudges, that's a relationship that works for me