Humans are, all things considered, a pretty normal species. Yet in one regard they defy all norms. This is called the human aggression paradox.
100 years ago, Diplomatic Headquarters, Earth
"We have just received a communique from the Bodargon. They have challenged us for the Thea 5274 system."
"Challenged? What, are they claiming it's part of their territory?"
"The translators say it's more of a declaration that they will take the system from us by force."
"Sounds more like a declaration of war to me, then."
"Well, yes. But the translators caution that their translations may still be incorrect."
"Don't tell me. They always say that. I would too if the outbreak of an interstellar war depended on my translations. Well, I don't want it either. Forward it to the government, and it's their problem."
"Will do."
"Oh, and give the fleet a heads-up too. Unofficially of course."
"Of course."
Two weeks and 150 light-years later. Flag bridge of the UNS James, flagship of the second human fleet.
"How long until we reach Thea 5274?"
"We are leaving hyperspace in ten minutes, Sir!"
"Good. Fleet status?", Admiral Robertson asked.
"All ships report ready for battle, Sir!", Communication officer Jon Howard answered.
That was the fourth time in ten minutes, Jon thought to himself. The admiral is just as nervous as all of us. No wonder though. It will be the first confrontation between a human fleet and an alien one, ever. Who knows what is going to happen.
After way too much time the navigation announcement finally sounded from the bridge speakers, "Leaving hyperspace in 5...4...3...2...1...Drop!".
Deep inside the ship, Jon noticed nothing of the giant energies set free by the transition from hyperspace. Just a flicker from the status indicator in the corner, and they were 2 light-hours from Thea 5274, a K-Type star in the middle of nowhere.
"What's the status?"
"Looks empty. There's the colony station above Thea 3, and some smaller ships between it and the asteroid belt, probably miners. That's it.", came from navigation.
Jon could feel the tension leave the bridge crew. "Seems like we were fast enough. Contact the colony.", the admiral ordered.
"Yes, Sir. Based on our distance we expect an answer at the earliest in 3 hours, 55 minutes."
"Good. Direct course for Thea 3. And tell the fleet to reduce readiness."
3 hours and 58 minutes later, Jon glanced at his screen again, waiting for an answer from the Thea 3 colony. They had already picked up
... keep reading on reddit ➡Hi,
So this may turn into a bit of a novel but I'll try to keep it succinct. Myself and my girlfriend decided to adopt a dog a few months ago. We had planned to for a couple of years but were waiting for the right combination of financial security, time, and a dog-friendly apartment. We got in touch with a rescue centre that a couple of my friends had adopted from and had really good experiences with rehoming dogs in our city (I live in London currently). We put in an application for a rescue dog that they had advertised who seemed like a good fit, and we had a couple of interviews/consultations where our home and ability to raise the dog were assessed. The dog is an unknown Adolescent mix (8 months when we adopted, 11 months now), quite possibly Lhasa Apso but unsure on the other side. He had been found abandoned on the streets but didn't show any visual signs of abuse and was, by all accounts, good natured with no signs of reactivity or aggression.
At this point I feel the need to caveat that we were extremely honest with the rescue about our position and our ability to care for a dog with very complex needs, as we are first time dog owners who live in an apartment in a busy inner city area where avoiding stress triggers would be difficult. I outright stated to them that if there was a more appropriate home for the dog to go, that I would be happy as long as he was put somewhere safe. The rescue were adamant that the dog would be suitable for our home and our lifestyle. Nonetheless we obviously understood that rehoming a dog was always going to be a challenge and definitely didn't expect it to be an easy ride.
When he initially arrived, he was a little anxious (as we expected) but quickly started to come into his own. We took him to the park a couple of times and he played with other dogs: he was very excitable but didn't show any aggression to dogs or people. I realise now that we may have overexposed him too quickly, and that we should have introduced these environments more slowly, which was a total blunder and a massive regret of mine. A couple of weeks after we got him, he began to show resource guarding tendencies, which was concerning but not entirely surprising for a dog that had been on the street. We quickly got in touch with a trainer and started working on his possession by setting up training sessions to focus on 'trading up' which was the trainers advice.
However, in the last couple of weeks things have taken a pretty marked turn for th
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That’s about it. I want to get every available person up to courtyard date levels but refuse to scare Fang just to make my date happy.
So I just wanted to rant:
Granted, pit bulls are relatively low in human aggression (slightly above average?), and Aggression toward humans may be an important factor to cite, but using that as the sole reason to conclude that pit bulls are not dangerous is total bs. You also have to factor in ability to harm (think chihuahuas) and breed specific factors such as fighting behavior, which is unique with pits since they tend to not feel pain, act impulsively (no warnings), and they fight until death. You can find tons of videos of pits being hit with 2x4s, shot with guns, and one fighting a Clydesdale horse, and they just keep going.
The statistics on pitbull attacks are overwhelming for a reason, and they speak for themselves. Pitnutters need to pull their heads out of their asses.
Edit: thought I’d add that fighting behavior is really important bc most dogs will end a fight if there is no reason to continue. E.g., I was once attacked by a wolf hybrid for pulling on his collar. This dog is quite ferrel, and he got me pretty bad. But after he got his point across he walked away. This doesn’t seem to happen with pits, they are in the fight until someone dies.
Since house cats are small they can’t do much damage to us. But, if one were the size of a dog and was hungry, would they just attack and eat us? Weird question I know but I’m in lockdown and am bored as hell. Thanks!
If you said pregnant person you would be right. For some reason it has resulted in less people lashing out at the hypothetical pregnant person for their choices when I don't establish or remind the pro-birthers that the majority of people who give birth are infact women. There is less mysognisitc rethoric thrown around and they seem more engaged. What a bunch of sexist idiots.
I know I shouldn't engage at all but it is a human rights issue that we need to keep advocating for.
I have also found when asked if they are organ/blood donors or even if they wear a mask and follow COVID recommendations they scream about their body their rights (wonder where they got that) and defend their hypocrisy at letting real living people die for their body autonomy.
Just thought you might like to know how fucked up it is that people respond to an issue which is majorally impacting women better when you use gender neutral language.
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*B.E. is Behavioral Euthanasia
We put down our sweet 2.5 year-old Pitbull/Rottweiler mix today after a few level three bites. We had tried everything for a year. I am eight months pregnant and we had nowhere else to turn. I remember our trainer had called him majestic, and that was what he was. I had never met any other dog like him.
I will miss his kisses, his cuddles and how he talked with us all day long. He had special, unique cuddle routines for me and my husband. Even while he he was heavily sedated awaiting the B.E., he was still moving his paw just so and snuggling into my shoulder just so because that was the way he and I had always cuddled. I will not miss his snoring, the fear that he would hurt someone, the legal liability of being his owner, all the ways in which his reactivity limited his life (his toes always hurt because he bit me when I cut his toenails and we could not successfully wear them down through exercise alone) and his fear. He was so brave and so afraid. But, by the last few months of his life, when he would become scared of cars and delivery people, he would cut his barking and frantic lunging short in order to come up to me to get some snuggles. At the end of my life, having given him a small way to self-soothe when he was scared of people will be one of the greatest things I will have achieved.
One of my favorite memories of him happened a few days ago. We live deep in the woods and in the summer have beautiful masses of fireflies at dusk. He was walking about twenty feet ahead and turned back to look at me with his tail wagging. He was surrounded by more blinking fireflies than I had ever seen anywhere in my life. He was always my summer baby and now he is in the fireflies and the rising moon.
He taught me so much and I will emulate him and all dogs during the mourning process. He whined and cried when he missed his pack because his pack was inside him. I am crying, I am not denying that he is inside me and I know that it hurts because, like a dog, I want to be next to the one I love. He let his heart break when we would go away and I am letting my heart break because now he is gone. I know that the last words he heard before he died were words of love from me and my husband. Safe travels, my friend.
Update: Thank you very much to everyone who has responded to this post. Doing the right thing by a dog, or anyone you love, really, takes a lot of heart and soul, so I wish you all good luck through the ups and downs of yo
... keep reading on reddit ➡The Tuvalu do not simply kill, we hunt. There is a difference.
-Tiala Steen, Poet in Residence, Queen’s College, Tuvalu Prime
My prey lays somewhere behind me, in the heart of my family’s ancestral hunting grounds. Between us, between me and that succulent bird whose sweet song filled the night sky and whose sweeter blood even now fills my mouth, is a creature I have never before seen. But I have heard of it, and those tales had not done it justice.
There is a human where it should not be.
Behind me, some two to three hundred talons, I can hear it barreling through the brush. Its steps are heavy, a function of its massive, powered armor. Servos hiss and whir, steel heeled boots crush through the underbrush, and the tearing ozone notes of a laser beam still fill my flared nostrils. It had been a near miss. I thank the ancestors for that.
I drop, abandoning any cultured pretense at bipedal locomotion, and lope along through the darkened forest.
Overhead two full moons blaze. I know it because I am in my blood, their confluence has sparked the change in me, though I cannot see them. My family’s hunting ground are far from Tuvalu Prime, and here on the outskirts world we have claimed the trees grow thick and the canopy grows thicker. It is a thousand lengths to the sky, and had I not seen that it existed as we flew in on our ship I might think it a myth. Certainly, the denizens of this world had thought so in their own infancy, before we came and before they called for help.
Damn them, I thought. Damn them all to whatever hell a bird believes in.
Perhaps they would not have seeds there. It is a pleasant thought.
My HUD flashes a warning and I tuck my right foreleg into my body, sprawling forward across the dirt. Another laser beam passes over my head in silence. It glances off the ironbarks, ricocheting through the forest. The cracking of the trees is the only sound of its passing.
Damn. Damn, damn, damn.
I spring back to my paws and charge on.
“Can’t we talk about this?” I howl back to the human. Its face is an impassive, mirrored surface. There no jaw in the helmet, no discernible way for it to communicate. It is only a flat, seamless expanse that frames a transparisteel oblong.
More lasers, more silence, more running.
Tonight, and for another three nights, the change is in my blood. It makes me fierce and strong and fiery. It makes me hunt and search the forest for my mate. It gives us the fire to continue our line, and the strength
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