Caeligo's Collection

Honestly I made this to talk to someone, but I may post some short stories and sketches.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Weird: Color Vision

So, I am learning about color perception in one of my classes, and it turns out the ability to see and understand color is more complex than we often think despite the limited range on the electromagnetic spectrum between 400-700 nanometers. So, I thought I would write a little story about how human color vision is weird.

  The war with the Gnar’lack had reached a critical turning point. The Finnerian council was at its wits end. They were losing the war, and badly. The Unified Galactic Assembly had sent aid in the form of additional troops to supplement their own, but all efforts had been for not, and the assisting soldiers had been withdrawn home at the order of their home worlds.

               The Finneri were on their own with no chance of aid left in the galaxy and their spirits broken. Soon the last transport ship would be sent off world with their children in an attempt to preserve their species.

The likelihood of which seemed slim.

               General Lin-Ar was camped with what was left of his men along the southern polar border waiting for, what was likely to be, their last and final battle.

               If this last ditch plan didn’t work, they were doomed to extinction at the hand of their greatest enemy. The world would be overrun by the Gnar’lak and they would become only a memory in distant histories.

               “General?” The radio signal intercepted him on his posterior receptors, and he turned to face the speaker. Infrared and thermal sensors within his eyes picked up the spot as a glowing radiant beacon of heat.

               “Commander.”

               “Are we ready?”

               “We have to be.”

               The two turned themselves to the command’s last interstellar communication tower and began the process.

               “What happens if none answer?”

               “Then we give up our last hope.” There was a long silence as the two contemplated those words before

               “How do we know the stories are even true?”

               General Lin-Ar paused to think about that for a moment. Truth be told he wasn’t really sure if the stories were true. This far out on the border of the galaxy, stories of humans were still more myth than fact, but what other choice did he have. It he had to choose between a long shot and giving up, there was only one option.

               “Send the transmission.”

               The commander gave a nod stepping up to the tower to input the message, and there they waited with bated breath. The infrared monitor on the far wall remained silent for a horrible moment before bursting into an array of blinding intensity.

               The shape sitting there was so blinding, the cameras were having trouble adjusting to the signal.

               “This is Captain Vir of the USS Stabby responding to an urgent SOS from the planet…. Uh…. Gnf…. I can’t pronounce that.”

               Relief washed over the general as he moved to the screen. The translator was working.

               “So the stories are true.” Came the static response.

               “True and serious as a heart attack, General…. Anyway what can I do you for?”

               The human spoke oddly. From what he heard they were supposed to be a barbaric and warlike race, but as far as he could tell the human was on the far side of nonthreatening even a little spacey. His hopes began to dwindle.

               “We are the Finneri, and we are close to extinction. For over millions of years we have been at war with the Gnar’lak. Despite all of our efforts, we have failed to hold them back. I represent what is left of my race begging you for assistance. You are our last hope.”

               “Well S***, that does sound bad. I warn you, General. I represent only one ship. I don’t know if there is much we can do.”

               “If all the stories I have heard are correct, than I would rather take that chance.”

               “Hm…. Well, how could I say no to that? Give us a day.” The com went dead

               General Lin-ar paused in confusion, “He had expected a measure of resistance. Any race would have. To help a people on the brink of destruction against overwhelming odds was reason for concern, but the human had agreed almost out of hand recklessly agreeing to a suicide mission without knowing anything about the situation.

               Why would anyone do that?

               What had they gotten themselves into?

               Perhaps the quick agreement had just been a cultural construct. Maybe the humans would never show up, but personal discussion required that they agree in order to avoid offending. Only time would tell.

***

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[magiashley]

Visit Original Link

[thebeanestbad]

hey op? What the fuck. Like this isn’t even some random thing either this is what you hear when you’ve been driving for too long along a dark Nevada road and your headlights turn off. This is what you hear in the back of your head when you wake up in the desert with no memory of the previous night. What the fuck.

[caeligocielo]

It is the call of the Old Ones, the Outer Gods, not oft heard in Earth's mild sphere. In the quiet places of the night you will hear it, and when the madness leaves it will echo in your mind. Don't worry. It will be back.

[fthgurdy]

I have had this on my mind for days, someone please help:

Why are dogs dogs?

I mean, how do we see a pug and then a husky and understand that both are dogs? I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen a picture of a breed of dog I hadn’t seen before and wondered what animal it was.

[elodieunderglass]

Do you want the Big Answer or the Small Answers cos I have a feeling this is about to get Intense

[fthgurdy]

Oooh okay are YOU gonna answer this, hang on I need to get some snacks and make sure the phone is off.

[elodieunderglass]

The short answer is “because they’re statistically unlikely to be anything else.”

The long question is “given the extreme diversity of morphology in dogs, with many subsets of ‘dogs’ bearing no visual resemblance to each other, how am I able to intuit that they belong to the 'dog’ set just by looking?”

The reason that this is a Good Big Question is because we are broadly used to categorising Things as related based on resemblances. Then everyone realized about genes and evolution and so on, and so now we have Fun Facts like “elephants are ACTUALLY closely related to rock hyraxes!! Even though they look nothing alike!!”

These Fun Facts are appealing because they’re not intuitive. So why is dog-sorting intuitive?

Well, because if you eliminate all the other possibilities, most dogs are dogs.

To process Things - whether animals, words, situations or experiences - our brains categorise the most important things about them, and then compare these to our memory banks. If we’ve experienced the same thing before - whether first-hand or through a story - then we know what’s happening, and we proceed accordingly.

If the New Thing is completely New, then the brain pings up a bunch of question marks, shunts into a different track, counts up all the Similar Traits, and assigns it a provisional category based on its similarity to other Things. We then experience the Thing, exploring it further, and gaining new knowledge. Our brain then categorises the New Thing based on the knowledge and traits. That is how humans experience the universe. We do our best, and we generally do it well.

This is the basis of stereotyping. It underlies some of our worst behaviours (racism), some of our most challenging problems (trauma), helps us survive (stories) and sharing the ability with things that don’t have it leads to some of our most whimsical creations (artificial intelligence.)

In fact, one reason that humans are so wonderfully successful is that we can effectively gain knowledge from experiences without having experienced them personally! You don’t have to eat all the berries to find the poisonous ones. You can just remember stories and descriptions of berries, and compare those to the ones you’ve just discovered. You can benefit from memories that aren’t your own!

On the other hand, if you had a terribly traumatic experience involving, say, an eagle, then your brain will try to protect you in every way possible from a similar experience. If you collect too many traumatic experiences with eagles, then your brain will not enjoy eagle-shaped New Things. In fact, if New Things match up to too many eagle-like categories, such as

* pointy * Specific!! Squawking noise!! * The hot Glare of the Yellow Eye * Patriotism?!? * CLAWS VERY BAD VERY BAD

Then the brain may shunt the train of thought back into trauma, and the person will actually experience the New Thing as trauma. Even if the New Thing was something apparently unrelated, like being generally pointy, or having a hot glare. (This is an overly simplistic explanation of how triggers work, but it’s the one most accessible to people.)

So the answer rests in how we categorise dogs, and what “dog” means to humans. Human brains associate dogs with universal categories, such as

* four legs * Meat Eater * Soft friend * Doggo-ness???? * Walkies * An Snout, * BORK BORK

Anything we have previously experienced and learned as A Dog gets added to the memory bank. Sometimes it brings new categories along with it. So a lifetime’s experience results in excellent dog-intuition.

And anything we experience with, say, a 90% match is officially a Dog.

Brains are super-good at eliminating things, too. So while the concept of physical doggo-ness is pretty nebulous, and has to include greyhounds and Pekingese and mastiffs, we know that even if an animal LOOKS like a bear, if the other categories don’t match up in context (bears are not usually soft friends, they don’t Bork Bork, they don’t have long tails to wag) then it is statistically more likely to be a Doggo. If it occupies a dog-shaped space then it is usually a dog.

So if you see someone dragging a fluffy whatnot along on a string, you will go,

* Mop?? (Unlikely - seems to be self-propelled.) * Alien? (Unlikely - no real alien ever experienced.) * Threat? (Vastly unlikely in context.) * Rabbit? (No. Rabbits hop, and this appears to scurry.) (Brains are very keen on categorising movement patterns. This is why lurching zombies and bad CGI are so uncomfortable to experience, brains just go “INCORRECT!! That is WRONG!” Without consciously knowing why. Anyway, very few animals move like domestic dogs!) * Very fluffy cat? (Maybe - but not quite. Shares many characteristics, though!) * Eldritch horror? (No, it is obviously a soft friend of unknown type) * Robotic toy? (Unlikely - too complex and convincing.) * alert: amusing animal detected!!! This is a good animal!! This is pleasing!! It may be appropriate to laugh at this animal, because we have just realized that it is probably a … * DOG!!!! Soft friend, alive, walks on leash. It had a low doggo-ness quotient! and a confusing Snout, but it is NOT those other Known Things, and it occupies a dog-shaped space! * Hahahaha!!! It is extra funny and appealing, because it made us guess!!!! We love playing that game. * Best doggo. * PING! NEW CATEGORIES ADDED TO “Doggo” set: mopness, floof, confusing Snout.

And that’s why most dogs are dogs. You’re so good at identifying dog-shaped spaces that they can’t be anything else!

[caeligocielo]

Humanity

It's easy to forget that among the Umvirate races humans have the least distance from their evolutionary ancestors. They're charming and friendly, and get along with damn near everyone.

But there are moments when we're reminded just how animal these newcomers still are. For me, that moment was when our ship crashed.

Smoke clogged the air, pouring from combusting electronics. My ducts wheezed forcefully, trying to force the particles out. Logically I knew it was a waste of effort; no one would be able to lift the section of ship that had me pinned. But every species has some degree of survival instinct in them, and mine wouldn't let me stop.

Thank the algorithms for that.

A shape burst through the whirling smoke and flames, forcing them to curl around it and snarling as the tongues of fire licked at its exposed flesh. A brief hope swelled within me before my rational mind quelled it. I cannot be saved, it said. Do not drag anyone down with me.

“What are you doing here?” I called, recognizing our human, Ash, whom we'd picked up not two calendars ago. “You have to get out!”

Ash barked in a hoarser laugh than normal, the smoke, I assumed, and said, “And leave you behind? Not happening.” I could see the human's eyes now, darting about taking in the situation. The pupils widened as it saw where I was pinned and for a moment I was horribly reminded that it came from a predator species. Logic, thankfully, overrode the accompanying worries. Still, it did not have enough strength in its frame to move the metal that had me pinned, not with under this gravity, not even with its deathworlder build.

I tried again to warn Ash away as it approached, but a snarl was the reply I got as the human braced itself against the floor and pinning metal. I closed my ears in grief. We had been warned, of course, how humans will imprint on crew members, treating them as they would family. It was part of what attracted us to the idea of hiring one, after all. But we hadn't accounted for the bonding working both ways, and now I felt guilt for Ash's impending death.

I did not hear – as my ears were screwed shut – but rather felt the metal warping as it was bent off of me. Shock overtook me as my brain attempted to make sense of the event. Ash could not have the strength to do that, but somehow did. Thank the algorithms. By the time I could process everything that happened fresh air was assaulting my ducts. Gratefully I inhaled and stared up at the beautiful, grimacing beast that had saved me.

Us, I quickly realized. Several other crewmembers, only somewhat singed, lay in the field around us. I could hear Ash's ducts working overtime to supply fresh air to its system and my sight returned to it. The human's eyes were wide and staring at the burning wreckage. Not in fear, I realized, but focus. A focus so intense that I shivered to even be on its periphery. But the guttural roar that burst from the duct of the human shook me even more.

Ash began sprinting back into the burning ship. I lay there in silent horror watching my companion defy every survival instinct it must have and charge back to save more of our crewmembers. And then I saw it happen again.

And again.

And again.

Seventeen members were saved before the fire became too intense for even the deathworlder. It collapsed to its knees at the burning entrance making sounds I recognized as distress. Having recovered enough to move, I drug myself forward and wrapped myself around the human in the manner that I had been told was comforting. It must have worked as the human gripped me tightly – uncomfortably so – as it wailed in grief for the lives it could not save.

I learned later – almost as an aside while giving my report – how it was that Ash was able to accomplish what I had thought logically impossible. Evidently under great stress humans secrete a natural compound very similar to higher end combat stims. This gives them increased energy, further resistance to pain, and unbounded use of their freakish strength. That last thought especially chilled me. It was haunting to know that every feat of power I'd seen until then was subconsciously limited by their brains to prevent their own body from tearing itself apart.

Despite the tragedy, Ash thankfully chose to stay on, though I think it was uncomfortable with the newfound deference shown to it. But there was nothing to be done about it.

After all, to us Ash was an angel.

[bookwyrmnick]

Human Sayings are Weird

We have a lot of weird expressions.  Some are anachronistic, having come from a time and place that no longer exists, leaving us with a phrase that seems to have no context; one of these would be to “bite the bullet”, which referred to the practice of literally biting down on a bullet (or a piece of would) while someone operated on you/seared a wound shut, to keep yourself from screaming too much or biting your mouth and hurting yourself.  In an era of much more precise surgeries and anesthesia, the context no longer exists, but the phrase is still used. Then there are phrases that are deliberately hyperbolic.  “I’m going to tan your hide”. for example, is a descriptive way to tell someone you’re going to beat them, but odds are good you’re not literally going to be tanning their hide. So I was thinking that a group of enterprising aliens would form a betting pool around certain words and phrases; you can bet whether phrases are anachronistic, literal, or hyperbolic, and then the pool pays out when the phrase is confirmed one way or another.   Which brought me to an amusing little scene in my head. ———

Malchior 7 was an incredibly hostile planet.  All the local flora and fauna had self-defense features that would kill most species.  It was advised, if you were determined to visit, to wear full haz-mat suits and bring at least one human.  Most dangerous of all were the dominant species, a carnivorous form of primate with near-sapient intelligence, clever enough to use tools and form societies, but either not intelligent enough or too violent to have dialog with outside races.

So when a scouting party was ambushed by a large warband of these primates, the alien members fled in terror, only realizing about twenty paces down the path that the humans were standing and fighting.  Their hazmat suits were already ripped from the beasts’ claws, and their guns hand been knocked from their hands, but the humans still fought, wresting the primates’ weapons from their hands and turning them on their creators.  One of the humans managed to get a firm grip on the ankle of one of the beasts, and began slinging him back and forth, using the primate as a flail to slam into his cohorts.

One of the aliens let out a warble of delight, hurriedly pulling out its comm device and beginning to record, while simultaneously opening a codex page and beginning to type.

“Gor’thax, this is hardly the time!”

“You don’t understand.  I am about to make SO.  MUCH.  PROFIT.”  The alien uploaded the footage to the codex, with the title “[VIDEO PROOF - LITERAL PHRASE] “I’m going to beat a motherfucker with another motherfucker.”“