#ResistTrump today by resting up for the busy week to come. Also, space testicles.

I don’t think you included a link to whatever story that cover has.

Now, this is why aliens will never visit us.

We’re either going to try and kill them on sight, or laugh at them. Probably laugh at them.

“Probably laugh at them.”

Earthpeople are the greatest tellers of dirty jokes in the Universe; that’s why the other intelligent species stay away.

Ah, space testicles – just what I needed today. Although, I agree with Nequam; these creatures remind me of bugs or moths. They’re actually quite adorable (lookit their little hands and feet).

Fair warning: major blockquoting ahead. I just read this piece by Laurie Penny on the ‘special snowflake’ jeer and I would like the entire world to also go read it. It’s just that good. However, in case this is not possible, I have curated my favourite bits below. This was difficult because every sentence was a favourite bit, but I did my best. The last one is possibly the best.

When I fight back, though, when I continue to write about injustice in the face of the bullying campaigns that are daily life for every female activist I have met, precisely when I feel strongest—that’s when I’m told I’m weak. A crybaby. Special snowflake. Whiner. Virtue-signaling, I am told, by people who seem to believe that virtue never exists as a standard to strive towards, only as a set of empty signs.

The placing of strength above compassion, might above morals, not just in private but proudly and in public, is perhaps the most frightening shift in popular discourse over the past six months. It is an extension of the brutal logic of late capitalism into pitiless post-liberal prejudice: winners are by nature better men, and if what it takes to win is blithe disregard for your fellow human beings, then that is the example to follow

Dissent is called outrage, whining, crying victim, virtue signaling—unless it’s angry white neoreactionaries bravely fighting back against basic decency, in which case it’s called “legitimate concerns.” The concerns of women and minorities can never be legitimate—still less their pain.

Donald Trump in particular is a Gordian knot for modern psychiatry: at once an emblem of violent, impenetrable masculinity—the nasally-rigid, iron-hearted business Svengali determined to slap America until it stops sniveling—and a byword for hysterical sensitivity, a wailing man-baby with a hair-trigger temper who almost nobody feels comfortable having within five miles of the nuclear codes. Donald Trump is the personification of hurt male feelings masquerading as strength.

So, that’s roughly half of the article 🙂 . Hope everyone is well and happy!

@space testicle guy: I feel ya, man. Been there.

As the creatures approached the ship, Dustin tried to prepare to meet them, a task made far too difficult by the shaking in his hands. His breath was coming so shallow and fast that everything seemed a little unreal, a little bit like he was watching this happen to someone else, perhaps someone in a holovid.

“Greetings,” he said, half-whispered. “I come from Earth. I bring you … no, stupid, they won’t know what Earth is.” He fumbled into his space suit, his feet catching on the knees of the trousers. “Greetings. I come from another planet. I bring … would they know what a planet is?” He swore to himself. “What am I saying, they won’t even understand English.”

By the time he had the space suit more or less on, other than the helmet, the aliens had reached the ship and one of them was running its fingers over the glass of the forward porthole. It had only two, slender and spindly things, with a stubby sort of thumb, and the flesh was so thin and translucent that he could see straight through it to know that there was no bone inside. It seemed to be trying to peer into the ship, although what it used for eyes was not immediately obvious. The nearly-transparent sacs that rested against its upper arms pulsed for reasons Dustin could not even guess. His skin crawled.

If everything had gone the way it was supposed to go, he wouldn’t have to deal with this at all. But it hadn’t, and he did, and his hands were shaking and he had no idea if he could go through with it now that he was on the surface with these things.

Dustin put on his helmet – although it took three tries to get it properly latched with his hands shaking so badly – and switched on the rebreather; the air from the rebreather tasted of salt and felt slick in his throat, but the higher oxygen content snapped the universe back into focus around him. “Okay,” he told himself. “You can do this. I can do this.” No matter how creepy and horrible these things were, he could do this. He had to do this. There was no other option. If he didn’t get the samples, the company would never bring him home, and with Juanita dead there was nobody else to do it.

“You can do this,” he said again, and then he switched on the speaker on the exterior of his space suit and stepped into the airlock.

Juanita had trained for this. Juanita had been the expert. Dustin had just been the pilot, and he wished to hell and back that he was still just the pilot, staying comfortably in the ship while the expert went and did her thing. Juanita wouldn’t have been nervous, Dustin knew. She would have just gone out, gotten the samples, come back in, and they’d have been on their way back home in no time flat.

The airlock cycle seemed to take forever, and yet it was all too soon when the green light came on above the exterior door. Dustin wanted to just reverse the cycle, crawl back into the ship, and hide from the horrid things that waited for him outside the hull, but if he did that the company would never bring him home.

He had no choice.

He put a hand on the release, and opened the exterior door.

Off topic, but does anyone know why quiche is considered an unmanly food? At least in the US it seems to be. I don’t know about elsewhere. Quiche Florentine I can see because it’s vegetarian. But quiche Lorraine is egg, bacon and cheese surrounded by carbs. How is that unacceptably girly? Is it just because anything with a French name is all wussy to true ‘Murrican menz?

@PoM,

Anne McCaffrey once wrote in one of her short story collections that it was a common practice back in the 1960’s (and much earlier) for SF editors to commission artwork like what’s in the OP, then hand the artwork to one of their writers and have them create a story around it. The practice resulted in some…interesting stories at times.

In other words, you’re following a time-honored tradition with your story about Dustin and his mission. 😀

@Redsilkphoenix

Asimov commented on the same thing – his story “The Proper Study” was commissioned in the same way ( Poul Anderson also had the same art to work from – not read his story though).

And thank you for reminding me of that one. It’s worth reading again, especially given the current circumstances.

Ooh, my favorite kind of protest — a fashion protest!

Condé Nasties Protest Trump’s Visit With Subtle Outfit Change

http://theslot.jezebel.com/conde-nasties-protest-trumps-visit-with-subtle-outfit-c-1790915143

PoM wins thread!

Quiche? That’s an old one:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Real_Men_Don't_Eat_Quiche

Wiki says it was supposed to be mocking, but I remember people taking it seriously.