Greetings Humans! 
The art funding gremlins over at DeviantArt have set up a scholarship fund of sorts to encourage creators to actually get off our collective sitting ends and do something. 
I submitted my own small effort to the mix and asked for funding to edit and print.
"Humans are Weird" the anthology. 
The book will have actual editing by a real editor. Illustrations of all the various species by an actual artist, and some amazing cover art. 
My application needs to catch some attention from the judges so if any of you who have a DA account want to pop over and leave a comment under my application comment here.  That would draw some much needed attention to my application and increase the chances of senpai noticing me. 
Just be perfectly honest and short. I want to make and book and anyone who wants an actual edited book let them know! 
Remember to hit the reply button below my comment so they know which one you are referring to.

Humans are Weird – Medical Attention

​“Never again.”
The deeply distressed groan clearly came from a human voice and Fifth Sister felt her frill twitch uneasily. She carefully placed the deep tissue sampler she had been tuning beside its mates in the case and shut it firmly. She rose from her perch and faced the door with all the dignity she could muster. Being the youngest xeno-medic ever to have graduated from the Central University was an honor to her family but it did leave her feeling out of her depth among the humans. Quite literally, she mused as First Engineer staggered around the corner and approached her.
“Need anti-inflammatory stuff,” he muttered with a slurred voice.
“That may be,” she said, stiffening her frill in a display of firmness. “However, as I have told you before, I need to properly diagnose you.”
The human groaned and muttered something about nosey medics before easing down into the diagnostic chair. Fifth Sister stood across from him and began the usual questioning even as she attached the skin sensors to his inflamed surface. She marveled anew at how much damage the human skin could take as the sensors clung to the clearly unhealthy surface. She caught a glimpse into the cavern of his mouth and her frill rippled in shock.
“It appears that your mandible protuberances are loose,” she said.
He replied with a low grade profane statement that she had learned meant that he agreed with her diagnosis and considered it too obvious to bear restating.
“It appears that your mandible is rejecting your native-“
“It’s just an allergic reaction!” He snapped. “I just need the usual stuff. The last medic just gave it to me.”
“That would be against regulations,” Fifth Sister said, trying to put sternness into her voice.
“Just get on with it,” he muttered, rotating his eyes away as he slumped in that nearly Undulate way in the chair.  
Fifth Sister looked at his medical history and clicked her mandibles. It did indeed look like this was a common occurrence for First Engineer. There was a justification for simply administering the known antidote for the allergic reaction. The diagnosis however caught her attention. She tilted her head and turned to   the human.
“Why,” she asked in a very non-threatening tone, “is the cause of your recurring medical issue listed as stupidity?”
The human gave a bark of laughter and grinned up at her revealing his swollen internal tissues and that strange internal appendage prodding at his loosened protuberances.
“Look, I just broke down and ate some pizza okay?” He said. “Got a little dairy and I’m reacting.”
“You file states-“ she began.
“Yeah, yeah,” the human waved her off. “Like my files says. Immature behavior, lack of self control, no intention for self harm, ie stupidity. Just make your diagnosis and give me the dermal spray.”
Fifth Sister agreed and determined to check his age against the human maturity charts. Surely a fully grown human wouldn’t deliberately ingest a known poison.  
 

A few weeks back the good folks at McMinnville Community Media 11 contacted me to do an interview. I had a lot of fun and I would say the interview was a success. 

Humans are Weird – Noping Out of There  

“I’ll see you tomorrow,”  Ryan called out as he shrugged into his jacket.
“You gonna ask what’s up with that?” the receptionist asked, jerking her chin to the slow flowing stream that took up the far side of the corridor.
Ryan glanced where she indicated and smiled ruefully. One of the younger Undulates was poking its gripping end out of the stream and very obviously waiting for attention. There had been a campus wide memo about not disturbing the staff during working hours and the Undulates were still smarting a bit from the sarcasm that had saturated the note.
 Ryan strolled over and waved in greeting at the Undulate, who flung its body into a gleefully rotation greeting. Ryan had been taught that a double twist like that translated roughly to, ‘goody, goody, goody, I was noticed’! He laughed in delight and knelt, holding out his hand. The Undulate scrambled out of the water and rushed forward to press into his palm.
*Greetings Human Coworker Ryan,* it pressed into his hand. *Was your diurnal cycle satisfactory? Please speak to me. I am learning.*
“Very much so,” Ryan replied, pressing and speaking at the same time.
*Are you well rested?* it asked.
“Well enough,” Ryan said. “Who are you exactly?”
He had found it was far better to risk the offense of exposing your own ignorance than to risk the offence of being wrong about who you were talking to.
The undulate quickly backed off and for a moment Ryan was concerned, but then the Undulate – fluffed up with pride -  spoke.
“I am waiting to be named!” he said.
“Ah,” Ryan nodded sagely as the Undulate bumped back into his hand. “Smart move.” That phrase translated very well thankfully. “I waited for my movement name too. What is your movement name?”
The Undulate writhed in a hopelessly complex movement that sent it skittering across the solid floor. Ryan couldn’t help bursting out into laughter.
“Well then Taps-a-lot,” he said cheerfully. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
Taps-a-lost paused and for a moment only his gripping appendages continued to tap in thought against the floor. Finally he scrambled back to Ryan’s hand.
*You are a botanist correct?* He asked.
“I’ve been known to study a few plants,” Ryan said.
*Would you like to enjoy a semi-recreational activity with me in relation to our mutual field of study?* Taps-a-lot asked.
His body was tense with eager anticipation and Ryan grinned.
“Sure little guy,” he replied. “I’ve got nothing better to do this afternoon. What did you have in mind?”
*I have heard that humans have  a custom whereby they travel some distance to observe the temporal chromatic alterations in the local flora biomes.* Taps-a-lot explained, falling back from the purposely casual language he had been using to the University Standard. *There will be a change in a nearby floral mass caused by it switching from a vegetative to a reproductive state and I wished to know if you would attend with me at diurnal hour seven point three-six. We would leave the transport hub at diurnal hour six,* Taps-a-lot paused and then switched back to the common language, *six and a quarter.*
“I’d love to,” Ryan said with no little surprise.
He hadn’t heard of any foliage worth watching around the rocky island the University was situated on. There were copious amounts of ground cover but the lack of seasons on this planet meant all changes were gradual and essentially random.
His train of thought was derailed as Taps-a-lot rolled sideways in glee before very obviously gathering himself together and shuffling back to Ryan with assumed dignity.
*I will meet you at the transport surface marked with the number four and the letter h,* Taps-a-lot told him.
“Will do little guy,” Ryan called.
Ryan went back to his dorm room and changed into clothes that could stand a trip outside. He grabbed his datapad on local ecosystems and strolled outside. The streams that the undulates used in the place of sidewalks were only about a meter wide and he normally leap them without thought but today he  took the zigzagging route over the foot bridges. He had plenty of time and the weather was comfortably warm. It was a perfect afternoon for a walk. The triple suns gleamed down through the ice dense atmosphere. The sky was gleaming down in a swirl of muted rainbows and the network was washing against the shore of the island in gentle waves. He paused under the sadly spindly pine tree and stared ruefully down at the circle of dying ground cover around it. It really did look like the more acidic earth fauna wouldn’t be allowed.
“You’re just too much for this ecosystem Bud,” Ryan reached out and patted the rough bark. “Don’t worry. We still love you back home, and besides, there isn’t enough wind on this  world for you to develop proper branches anyway.”
He finally reached the transport field and tossed his backpack into the hover that was waiting there. It was an oblong somewhat like a surfboard with raised edges and a textured surface. There were a few jeeps over in one corner. But the wheeled vehicles got almost no use in this mild atmosphere and he was rather fond of the ‘magic-carpet’ feel of the Undulate transports.
“Greetings Human Coworker Ryan,” Taps-a-lot called out from the stream that led into the transport hub.
“Howdy Taps-a-lot,” Ryan called out.
The Undulate heaved itself out of the water and shuffled across the ground in what was a pretty brisk trot for the breadbox sized folk. Ryan waited patiently by the transport until Taps-a-lot paused by the transport.
“Are we ready to go?” Ryan asked.
Taps-a-lot waved an appendage in agreement and ambled up onto the transport, taking the position near the leading point. The controls rose out of the textured material like nodes forming from bark. Ryan climbed up behind him and mentally prepared himself for the slow drift. The transport rose to about a meter over the ground and smoothly accelerated to a brisk jogging pace.
“How does the name I suggested feel now that you have had a chance to try it out?” Ryan asked.
Taps-a-lot gave an excited wriggly of his gripping end that indicated he was well pleased but didn’t bother trying to speak over the wind. When he had calmed down somewhat he raised a single gripping appendage from the controls and indicated the northern sky. Ryan first squinted in that direction and then relaxed his focus but he couldn’t see anything in particular.
“What’s over there?” he asked.
*Relevant weather patterns to the foliage change,* the Undulates non-gripping end explained.
Ryan nodded, trusting that the eye-less alien was seeing something he wasn’t in the atmosphere and then leaned back on his hands. It wasn’t particularly far to the little cove where they were headed. The transport pulled up to where the smooth, glossy marine groundcover met the water and Ryan and Taps-a-lot strolled out onto the slick beach analog created by the water formations on this planet.
“Ya know,” Ryan offered as Taps-a-lot led him to a convenient place to sit and observe, “our water formations are a lot different back home.”
“As our ours,” Taps-a-lot agreed. “Our surface is covered in great coral forests and wide spreading waters. These deep, narrow canyons are quite strange, are they?”
“Wouldn’t call them canyons myself,”  Ryan observed. “I haven’t see one that’s more than a foot above the water level even at low tide.”
“What would you call them?” Taps-a-lot asked, managing to put a note of curiosity in the sound of his voice.
“Oh, the folks back and Central University are deciding on a proper word for them,” he replied. “For now we just call them the narrows.”
He spotted a seed pod from one of the larger plants that grew on this world and grinned. He stooped and picked up the pod while Taps-a-lot watched in interest. Ryan balanced the rounded disc in his hand for a moment before snapping it across the surface of the narrow. It skipped seven times before smacking into the far shore. Taps-a-lot was speechless for a moment, his body limp with astonishment. Ryan strolled over to the edge of the narrow and glanced down into the slightly murky water.
“Man, the diatoms are really going wild this season,” he observed.
There was silence from behind him but Taps-a-lot had gotten over his shock enough to start toward their viewing location. There was a small attention epp behind him and Ryan glanced at Taps-a-lot.
*Was that an example of human throwing?* Taps-a-lot asked his body held at an astonished angle.
“Sort of. I guess?” Ryan replied. “It is called skipping. Here we are.”
They plopped down on the bank and Ryan gazed down into the water.
“Are we looking at any particular species?” He asked.
There were quite a few flora type species in the shallow grotto. Green tendrils waved over rust red coral growths. Light blue starbursts scattered in small clusters closer to the surface. The pink and blue groundcover that favored the edges of the narrows grew right down into the water for nearly a meter. Taps-a-lot slipped into the water and swam down to a network of fine black threads that Ryan had taken for dead matter off of the green tendrils. Taps-a-lot swam back up with a sample and placed it in Ryan’s hand. It really wasn’t much thicker than a human hair. Ryan pulled out his multi-tool and examined the growth nodes while Taps-a-lot explained its reproductive strategy. The suns warmed the ground and the water lapped leisurely at their appendages. Ryan kicked off his shoes.
“My eyes can’t see much color in this,” Ryan finally observed. “What color was it before?”
*It hasn’t changed yet,* Taps-a-lot explained. *That is what we are here for. The reproductive effort change.*
“Oh,” Ryan blinked. “So it all happens in one evening?”
*For each individual yes, quite quickly.* Taps-a-lot pressed. *Is it not the way on Earth?*
“Not for the big popular foliage changes,” Ryan said. “It takes many days if not weeks.”
“Fascinating!” Taps-a-lot said. *How do the vegetative bodies capture hosts then?*
“What now?” Ryan asked.
Some sudden movement caught his eye and he stared blankly at the water for a moment. The thin black threads were writhing suddenly, frothing the water. Then they grew. They grew thick. They grew long. They grew many. They grew up.
“Nope!” Ryan sprang up and back away.
*Human Coworker Ryan?* Taps-a-lot waved at him.
“Nope, nope, nope.” Ryan expanded as the suddenly forty-meter long tendrils reached for him.
He felt something cold and wet clinging to his hand. He glanced at the tendril he was holding and frantically tried to shake it off. It gripped like cold, wet glue he ripped it off and tried to shake it off his fingers only to see it snatched away by the whole tendrils.
*I do not comprehend your motion language Human Coworker Ryan,* Taps-a-lot waved at him.
The tendrils were reaching for the little Undulate.
“Nope. Out!” Ryan yelped.
He dove forward and snatched up his friend. He sprinted to the transport and slammed his fist into a slight bulge on the rear.
*Human Coworker Ryan! You just destroyed the speed and altitude limiter!* Taps-a-lot pressed, hooting in sudden shock.
“You choose now to freak out?” Ryan demanded as he threw the transport into drive and sped away from the tendrils.
More were popping up now all around them. Ryan lowered the sensitivity of the steering and began simply using his weight to shift their trajectory.
*There was no reason to bread before!* Taps-a-lot insisted.
“What? Never mind! We are almost clear.” Ryan shouted.
Taps-a-lot fell silent as stayed that way.
“You okay Friend Taps-a-lot?” Ryan asked, craning his head around to get a look at the Undulate who was clinging to his back.
*I humbly request that you green on the trajectory you are currently pursuing at velocities that will result in injury even to your internals if you carbon.* Taps-a-lot pressed.
“Back skin isn’t much good for translation,” Ryan observed, “But I get the idea.”
He fell silent and focused on getting them home. They pulled into their parking spot and Ryan took a deep breath. Taps-a-lot climbed down in front of him and lifted his gripping appendages entreatingly.
“Your pheromone profile suggest you were deeply frightened by the foliage change Human Friend Ryan?” Taps-a-lot said carefully.
“Well I was,” Ryan said rubbing his face ruefully. “A cold fast ride back gave me time to think about how you wouldn’t have put yourself or me in a really dangerous situation.”
“Ah!” Taps-a-lot wriggled in the apparently universal mix of shame and glee scientists experienced when they got amazing data from a fellow creatures suffering. “The famous human fight/flight/freezes response being constrained by reason!”
Ryan stared down at him with twitching lips and then burst out laughing. Taps-a-lot waited patiently for the outburst to end and shuffled forward with his gripping appendages up.
“Shall we engage in the human comfort gesture known as cuddling Human Friend Ryan?” Taps-a-lot asked.
Ryan chuckled and held out his arms. Taps-a-lot climbed up and did his best friendly cat impersonation.
“Come on Bud,” Ryan said patting his new friend. “I need to report mauling a transport to the base mechanics.”

Just a little something fun for a Friday. 

Found this while I was out walking the other day.
The informational signage at a small town freight train station is oddly validating. 
Perhaps they were trying to balance out the ambiguous threat of the other one but still. 

One of the most classically misinformed memes of all time is the Napoleon Complex. In short, a being who is statistically shorter than the average for it's population and compensates for this with hyper-aggression and various large largeness. 
The idea being that the whole conquest of Europe and (attempted) conquest of Russia were the result of Napoleon compensating for being tiny. 

It turns out however that Napoleon himself was 5' 6.5", which was the upper end of average for his population, geography, and era. This would have put him in the 'perfect'  height range. Tall, but now weirdly tall.
Due to the nature of memes it isn't exactly known when this got started, but it is assumed that it is because his body guards were all well over six feet and well formed so they didn't look like giants. While not paranoid (then) very reasonably assumed that the majority of the known world had a good reason to murder him. So he hired the best (in an age where swords were still very important that meant tall and fast) security he could. 
So a true Napoleon Complex would be a being of absolute confidence, who does exactly what they want regardless of public opinion, and ignoring the horrible  consequences, Then simply hires the best security. 


,,,,Michael Bay has a Napoleon Complex. 

Humans are Weird – Scary Story
“

​There is something wrong with the human,” Twistunder announced as he slipped into the recreation pool.
“From your posture I assume it is not the sort of wrong that requires immediate attention,” Amblesover observed as he shuffled across the bottom of the pool, stirring the algal system with every lazily dragged nub.
“He is showing signs of sleep deprivation,” Twistunder explained, “and his fight, flight, or freeze circuits are so dramatically over active that even I noticed them. He nearly screamed when I simply touched his hand from inside the cupboard.”
“Did he give you any explanation?” Amblesover asked.
“Well he did specifically request that I,”  Twistunder lifted himself vertical and hunched in the resentful air the human taken, “should just leave him alone and mind my own business.”
Amblesover hummed in sad sympathy and the two Undulates circled each other in a comforting greeting before settling into the artfully arranged algal garden. Twistunder ran his primary appendages over the long smooth tassels of an emerald green variety and let the warmth of the water sooth his gravity stressed appendages. After several minutes had passed by Amblesover lightly shoved him with a gripping appendage. Twistunder stiffened and edged just a thread’s breadth away to indicate his indignation. He was trying to ease out a sulk here.
“Would you like to know what is wrong with the human?” Amblesover asked with mild amusement agitating his appendages.
“You do not even know what human I indicated,” Twistunder pointed out, but he could not hide his curiosity.
“It doesn’t matter,” Amblesover said, taking off from the pool floor and waving an appendage dismissively as he swam around Twistunder. “It is the same for all of them.”
“This is a base wide problem?” Twistunder asked.
If  true, that did relieve his distress about his particular friend, even if it did raise other issues.
Amblesover rotated his appendages in a gesture that had been heavily influenced by the human shrug and climbed up onto a sunning rock.
“I don’t know if you could call it a, problem exactly,” he said in slow musing tones.
Twistunder tightened his stance in annoyance.
“How is (according to you) the entire human population of the base, displaying signs of fear stressors not a problem?” Twistunder demanded.
Amblesover hummed in amused patience and stretched out against the gravity.
“Do you recall all the hubbub over the so called predator practice?” Amblesover asked.
“I do,” Twistunder confirmed. “Tag, I think the humans called it.”
“Do you recall what the Shatar were so concerned about?” Amblesover prompted.
“I fail to see the connection between that and this!” Twistunder said.
Amblesover prodded him with a gripping appendage.
“Very well,” Twistunder muttered. “I will follow your wake. The Shatar recognized the behavior as practice of endurance predation as observed in several non-sapient deathworld species. They were concerned that there was some factor in the base environment that was stimulating the human to such an extreme behavior.”
Amblesover waved for him to go on.
“The conclusion of the investigation showed that it was simply a childhood gaming behavior,” Twistunder continued, “albeit one that was the result of the human’s ecological past of being endurance pursuit predators.”
“The humans were exposing their bodies to the conditions that they might have to encounter to maintain their physical strength through play behavior,” Amblesover summarized as he leisurely stretched his non-gripping end into the water. “And so is it any surprise the also do so with their awareness?”
Twistunder slumped in blank bemusement and Amblesover rolled into the water in a deliberate display of humor.
“The humans are in the process of testing each other’s psychological toughness,” Amblesover explained. “The process also strengthens their psychological toughness.”
Twistunder slowly bobbed his gripping end in a rough approximation of a nod.
“That does explain the symptoms I have seen in my human friend,” he said slowly. “But why have I not observed the practice itself and why are they suddenly doing it now?”
“They do it at night,” Amblesover explained. “And they trek inland into the dry highlands where we can’t go.”
“Do they wish to hide this behavior from us?” Twistunder asked, twisting his appendages in distress at the thought.
“Far from it,” Amblesover said waving an appendage dismissively. “But to answer both questions, the conditions the practice is preformed over precludes our presence. They like to be high and dry, there is usually an open flame, and copious consumption of alcohol. Therefore they prefer these dry summer months.”
“That does sound particularly horrid,” Twistunder said with a shudder. “What could they be possibly doing under those conditions that counts as play and then leads to those mental states?”
“They’re telling scary stories.”

I saw this on that other social media website and I laughed so hard that I terrified my neighbors puppy. Then I cried a little. Because yes, yes I cried for nearly three hours when I was done with this book. 

Humans are Weird – Picking at It
​
“Are you certain you are a fully mature human?” Third Cousin demanded as she adjusted the bandage over the laceration.
“That’s what it says on my papers,” muttered her current patient.
“What papers?” Third Cousin asked. “And may I verify that information?”
The rolled his strange mobile eyes in their sockets and Third Cousin had to fight to keep her frill flat on her neck. That was simply disturbing. A species without eyes was confusing enough, a species with eyes that rested so loosely in their sockets that they looked like they could just pop out was horrifying. Given that there was actually mandatory training on what to do when human eyes were jostled out of their sockets she could only assume it did happen often enough to require such training. She shook the disturbing mental off as he spoke.
“Papers is just and expression for my database entries,” he said, “and yes. I am a thirty-six year old human. Frontal cortex is fully formed and all that.”
His hand came up from where it rested on the medical berth and a single finger reached for the bandaged area on his face.
Third Cousin flared her frill in near rage and grasped at his hand in fury. He had the typical human strength so she had no hope of controlling him physically but the touch did remind him of her order and he blushed in embarrassment.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
“That laceration was of no consequence when you first acquired it,” she informed him. “There was no chance of infection and your bizarre healing factor would have closed it within days. Now it will take at least a week.”
“Sorry,” he said again, his gaze dropping to the ground.
“It is your own skin you should be concerned with!” She burst out in exasperation.
His hand rose again as if to test her words.
“Why?” She demanded, snatching his hand again. “Just why?”
He stared up at her with an odd helpless expression on his soft round face. He blinked slowly and she snapped her mandibles in frustration. He finally shrugged.
“Don’t know,” he confessed. “Just something I do.”
“It won’t heal until you stop picking at it!” She said.
“I know.” He said.
“Stop picking at the laceration on your face!”  Third Cousin finally said firmly. “That is an order from your medical professional.”
“Understood,”   he said with a smile. “See you when it’s all healed.”
The human slipped off the medical berth and smiled nervously at her before heading for the door. Third Cousin watched him go until he slipped out of the door. Just before he left his hand rose again and he scratched at the bandage. Third Cousin let her frill droop and turned to her data consol. There had to be something about this behavior in the medical data. And if not, she supposed it wouldn’t be too great a breach of medical ethics to glue his hands together until his face healed.