Why Daughters Should See Their Parents Working Reader's ...

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How is all the garbage not burying us alive by now? Just think of all the garbage generated by major cities every single day. It's surreal to think how this civilization could even last a week, with so many people disposing of and using so much frigging stuff.

Yes, a lot of the first world off loads its garbage onto the third world and these developing countries, in turn, generate just as much of their own garbage. Garbage that usually ends up in toxic/illegal landfills, into various waterways, or floating out into the ocean only to become a part of the humongous island garbage patches dotted around the globe.
In my case, nothing served as a more startling example of the waste we collectively generate than the local city dump. Occasionally, to get rid of old furniture and other random stuff, we've made trips to such a place as this, which allows you to drop off old junk in a giant dumping ground for a small fee. Even for the modest town I live in, this local dump, which is privately ran and is only one out of a couple for this area, has always had a literal mountain of garbage tens of feet high, by tens of feet long. It's sheltered in a very large half-open warehouse and there's always so much garbage there that it's practically touching the ceiling high above. And yet this is a normal amount of garbage collection for them. One that replicates itself week after week without fail. And they're not even the official dump for the city, which means that massive amount of garbage I've seen constitutes only a fraction of that actually generated by this city. And then, when you try to broaden the picture, every city, large or small, generates its own sizable amount of trash. Think how much trash a place like New York must create on a daily basis. Enough to fill hundreds, if not thousands, of warehouses like the kind I described above. Go bigger and think of the trash generated by entire countries, or entire continents. All the oceans of garbage and waste flowing out from our daily activity. And this happens every single moment, every single week, every single month, every single year. It's truly mind boggling. How we're not somehow buried in it up to our necks by now is astonishing.
I'm reminded of a joke by Bill Burr, when he remarks on the highly accurate, but not often thought about fact, that everything we've ever used is somewhere. Think about your entire life and everything you've ever donated or thrown away. All that stuff is somewhere out there. Crushed beneath a landfill, or floating out in the ocean, or, just maybe, is being used by someone else. It's crazy to think about, isn't it? The history of people's trash. Those both alive and dead have all left their mark in this way.
I can't help, but notice how in every single house, down every single street, and in every obscure little corner of human habitation; people are using things, throwing things away, buying new things, gobbling up electricity to heat their homes in the winter or cool them in the summer, ordering take-out, driving their cars, making plans for international trips which involve air travel, or other things they'd like to do which requires enormous fossil fuel energy. In every major city, at every single moment of the day, people go to stores, they shop, they dine out, they go to the movies, they mingle at nightclubs, they go to amusements parks and take in all the lurid sights they can. And all this happens. Every. Single. Day. Year upon year. I mean, just think of how this already has happened for decades now. From Chicago, to Tokyo, to Melbourne, to Toronto. Every single day. Every single night. How in the hell has it managed to go on for this long? With that much energy and resources being used by so many people, in so many places. By rights, it should have all collapsed within a week, yet it's been chugging along for decades now without stopping. Quite the opposite, it's only grown and grown. It makes me realize just how much there is in nature. How much energy to be exploited, how many animals there are to be slaughtered, how many other resources there are to be extracted. And that, as of now, we've squeezed and consumed every last drop out of it. Resources that could have lasted centuries, if not millennia, assuming they were properly managed, with far less people around to need them in the first place (at least less than a billion). Instead, we've taken all of it and stuffed into every belching furnace we could, simply to keep the infernal engine running. Hotels, restaurants, high price getaway resorts, luxury cruises, casinos, and whatever other bullshit you can think of. All so as to keep the lights on and the music booming in every single city across the world, and doubly so for the major ones. Like I said, it's just staggering to me that it's all lasted this long.
For better or worse, the world is unknown to me. In my case, I've been a hermit for nearly 15 years. I've never partied, or traveled, or done anything at all except sit quietly in my room. A tidy and well kept dungeon of near perpetual darkness, with garbage bags and thick cardboard taped over every window, leaving me lost behind my own wall of near perfect isolation. All I can do is sit with myself, stewing in morbid self-attention or mulling over any number of other equally dreary topics. Too much time spent thinking about all the things I'd rather not think about. One such common thought would be whether or not anything else will ever make itself known to me, or if all that I've come to realize is all there will ever be. Perhaps hedonism is really all there is. Perhaps matters of pleasure, for whatever form that might take for each individual, really are the only point to life. Sometimes I wonder that, if the world is going to die anyway, you might as well get drunk and party like there's no tomorrow and experience as much as you can before it's gone. If this is true, as I sometimes think to myself, then I suppose I've truly failed in my life. I haven't enjoyed myself and I have nothing, even on the most base level, that could warrant my time spent rotting on this planet. No good memories, no traveling anywhere, no having unique experiences. I've been as good as dead from the day I was born. Everything I've seen outside my window or through my computer screen, might as well be like pictures in a book. A faint two dimensional shadow of something that can never be anything more than what it is. Resting in my imagination only, but not even passing as a figment of the real thing. I'm a pale imitation of life. One that wishes I could have at least gotten something out of all this, as bad as it is, despite knowing in my heart that I never will.
ADDITIONAL EDIT BELOW:
Thanks for all the info. I hadn't considered some of what was mentioned here and it's given me more to think about. The world is, indeed, a large place and thus affords a copious amount of room for our trash. I'll admit that I wasn't aware of how efficiently garbage can, sometimes, be disposed of. Then again, in a world where a large amount of the air, food, water, and earth is poisoned, I suppose it doesn't much matter in the end how much or how little garbage it is that we actually generate. Well, like I said, it's still staggering to me how long this has gone on for. Consumerism, starting from 1945 and onwards, has been around for a little over 75 years now and, with it, most of our modern conveniences. That's nothing when compared against the rest of human history, let alone the deep time of the natural world, but I don't know. Like I said, it's dubiously amazing to me that it all even lasted a month. The fact that our current arrangements can last longer than a week at most, is even more dubiously amazing.
As for myself, I've accepted my lot in life. For what little that amounts to, I suppose. Not everyone has a taste for life, or is cut out for actually living as one would ordinarily expect. It's a sad thing, but as long as humans have been around for, there have been people like me who have puttered about in their dreary existences. Those who've just sort of trudged through life carried by their own prior inertia and fear of death. Tens of millions have come and gone who have found themselves in this predicament and, to this day, there are still those condemned to do the same. I'm just another regrettable example of it. It's not fine, but I accept it. I am what I am and, for better or worse, no one should deny who it is they truly are. Even if who they are only brings them pain and puts them apart from nearly every living thing on the planet. That's how it is, but I guess it doesn't stop me from complaining about it, as I've unfortunately done here, so apologies for that.
If there are self-made purgatories, then we all have to live in them. Mine can be no worse than someone else's.
Also, for what it's worth, I'm actually a pretty healthy individual. I engage in at-home exercises, have an extremely clean diet, and take Vitamin D and pro-biotic supplements. I do the laundry, I keep my room exceptionally clean, and, along with my mother, I keep our home well kept and decent. Believe it or not, but these are all things I've done for many years now. And you know what? I still feel the way it is I feel. Garbage bags over the windows and everything. Last year, as a matter of fact, I did enough work around this house to have kept at least 3 separate contractors busy for weeks, but, at the end of the day, I was still left with what I otherwise was. I operated a jackhammer and single-handedly cleared away tonnes and tonnes of old concrete that had been blighting our property for years, only to then do the back breaking work of disposing of it as well. I painted our entire fence, I painted and re-sanded our old deck, and I cleaned up the basement, the garage and the shed from top to bottom. It's partly thanks to what I did that we have a brand new driveway now, since I got the ball rolling on it and significantly reduced the cost through my efforts. But, in the end, I didn't do these things because I was ever asked to do them, but to silence the madness in my mind and to briefly make an escape from my isolation.
I didn't have to do these things, but I needed to all the same. Anything to make the pain inside my heart/mind stop, if only for a little while. Like modern media before I was stricken with anhedonia, these tasks were essentially a form of escapism for me. An escapism used to briefly evade experiencing my own empty existence. I don't know what's wrong with me, but, whatever it is, it's been with me all my life. Aside from my mother, and occasionally my older brother when he comes to visit, I speak with no one. I have no friends and, frankly, I have no idea how to make them. This is as true for the digital world, as it is for the flesh and blood one. I don't know what to do about whatever it is I am, but, as hard as it's been, I've tried to accept that this might just be who I was always destined to be. Plus, it's been so many years now. So many years of this. You fall down a hole long enough and, sooner or later, you can't imagine any other way to be. Well, again, it'd just been nice to get something out of all this, this whole civilization thing, besides just being a hermit. I guess in the age of COVID, that's what everyone's encouraged to be anyway. It's like Junji Ito's Army of One made manifest. Who'd have ever thought.
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guilt, anger, empathy

I'm so fucking mixed up right now. My dad is so deeply invested in Trump and QAnon that he has completely fucked everything his father worked for til the day he died. Forced his mother, my complete saint of a grandmother, to sell their house and income property in one of the most desirable cities to live in and move out to BFE Oklahoma. She and my Uncle, his brother, both have heart conditions and now 0 infrastructure to manage them. My germaphobe Uncle is being forced to attend medical visits where he is regularly in contact with unmasked people. They feel unsafe and disconnected where they live, though they love the new house itself. I got the you-told-us-so call a few days ago, and I feel more upset than before. I managed to get my grandmother to stop actively propagating Q material on facebook, and my impression is that she just doesn't know what to believe at this point and is trying to avoid politics. I can understand that, at least. She is an extremely kind woman who was taken in on the child-trafficking claims and nothing else, it wasn't too hard to talk to her.
My dad is so fucking sick now. He's in recovery and has now taken up gambling for fun, and has been going to the casinos and coming home (endangering the remainder of the at-risk household) since they reopened. He openly brags about being at bars, smoking and singing maskless. He voted for Trump in 2016 because he hated Hillary and the libertarian candidate wasn't going to win (or so he told me). Now he's so far gone he can do nothing but post on Twitter about HCQ and how he refuses to bend to "covid fascist edicts" and won't allow himself to be "reprogrammed" by the government. He railroaded my whole family into tearing up their roots and starting anew in a brand new place and now he isn't even unpacking because he plans to move to Texas with his girlfriend. My Uncle gave up the business he built for over a decade, and the relationship he'd been in for nearly as long. All of my grandma's comfort and independence have been stripped away. I kept begging them not to do it, I kept telling them it wasn't safe, but they were constantly being manipulated with my dad in the house and everyone screaming about the stupid governor trying to destroy everyone's livelihoods with shutdowns. So many people are dead, and all he could be assed to think about was his own freedom. I begged and begged, but my grandma just won't think of herself or her wellbeing. They used her for her money so that they could afford to move, and they are already priced out of the market they just left. My childhood home, lemon trees, rose vines, ugly old tile and all is being rented out to randoms now. The thought of picking up and moving again sounds horrific but less horrific than the consequences of staying where they are and in a home with him.
I found out the day after the Capitol riot that he had traveled all the way to DC to take part when a friend I had at my last job sent me a news article with his extremely unique name in it. There he was, in front of God and everybody, disgracing the family name and making us look like a bunch of hateful lunatics. I wonder if I'll ever be able to get a job again. I was planning on changing my name when I get married, I might have to do it sooner. That day I discovered the extent of his issues (3200 tweets in 3 months) and how awful the things he was saying had become. When I found out he was one of the people joining 'militias" to "keep the peace" during the George Floyd protests, I knew he was gone. I didn't understand how deeply he had bitten into the conspiracies until now. Being someone who has frequented 4chan from much too young an age, it was so hard to fucking explain to these people that the things they were sharing (literal photos of computer screens showing 4chan posts!!! I'm not even making this shit up) came from a place with complete anonymity and less vetting for posts than any of their social media platforms, let alone wikipedia. An actual forum full of gore, porn, and memes. I could not get through to them, but now even my Uncle who voted for Trump thinks he has gone too far.
This week has been a fucking mess for me. This is the man I used to call my hero. He used to be an avid musician, a gentle hand on my shoulder when I was wound up and tense, a patriot in the military who served and strove to better himself. There were several times in my life when it was us, and just us. I have been neglected or abused by most of my family, including him. My conflicted feelings go back further than when he started to openly oppose women's rights, back before QAnon even existed. But he is a different person now. He is not the man who spent all the cash in his wallet to win me the biggest dog at the booth in the fair, nor the man who brought me a copy of our favorite book when I was hospitalized for making an attempt on my life, nor the man who took me to see snow, stars, and the countryside in thousand-mile-trips cross country. He's gone. I am crying here with the letter he slipped me when I was in the mental hospital with instructions to read it when I was hurting. Here it is, the final sentence, a quote older than both of us.
"You have been, and always shall be, my best friend."
I reported him to the FBI the day before the inauguration. You won't see me on the news being called a hero, I am here in my home unable to sleep or eat, existing in obscurity. I have no parents anymore, though my chosen family is wiser than me to say I never really did. When I found out he had not returned home after the riot, and had a weapon with him, the choice was made for me. None of the adults in my family have the strength to even stand up to him, they certainly aren't going to grow up now.
I don't know where he is, or what's going to happen. I don't think he can go back to being that person, he is as invested in avoiding admitting he is wrong as he is in getting his way. His actions are those of a bitter man who feels wronged by the world and is trying to extract what he can for himself from society. It saddens me to say that I am not his only child, which makes that outlook even more disturbing. I started treatment for PTSD a couple months ago, and I am barely functioning. Today, I had to email my landlord and go to the post office. I have already broken down three times, and drank until I could pass out for a few hours this afternoon. The nightmares are intense. The shaking is intense. I keep remembering things he did and said, good and bad. I wish I knew how to get through to him. He calls me a fucking libtard. The last safe space I had is gone because of him. He just doesn't care, about his kids, his mother, nothing. My grandfather is rotting in a grave miles from the product of his life's achievements, and the family is slowly going broke now. I stopped thinking of him as family years ago, but going through this with his mother is really difficult.
I am sorry for being all over the place. I feel like I'm barely surviving right now, for a combination of reasons that reach far beyond my parents.
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10 More Overlooked Single Player Indie Games

Here’s a link to the first post with 10 other overlooked indie games.
Introduction
We're all familiar with the Hotline Miami's, Hollow Knight's, and Celeste's of the world. These are some of the indie games that hit the big time. Of course, for every one of these games, there's 100 other indie games that have been glossed over, relegated to a spot in a digital store few people will ever find themselves in. I wanted to bring attention to some of these lesser known indie games. I'm going to order them according to Metacritic Critic Ratings. Some of the games at the bottom have pretty low critic ratings. I personally disagree with the low scores of these games, but it's only fair that you hear from more than just me.
Price will include a link to the U.S. store page of the game. Price is in U.S. dollars.
1. Inertial Drift
2. Pumpkin Jack
3. Pato Box
4. Ultra Hat Dimension
5. Penarium
6. SINNER: Sacrifice for Redemption
7. Tamashii
8. Daggerhood
9. The Bunker
10. Cybarian: The Time-Traveling Warrior
Have you played any of these games? What are some other overlooked single player indie games?
If you’re looking for more indie games to play, see my post here:
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The Pretty Idiot's Guide to Human Space: Rugen (part 1)


The salvo of coilgun shells smashes into the complex of bunkers on the opposite riverbank, sending a spray of charred dirt, sandbags, and timber flying into the air. A sloped bastion caves in, burying the rifle pits at its base. One leg of a watchtower is blasted away and the whole thing sways drunkenly before twisting and collapsing across the trenches, the flagpole on its roof somehow landing upright and leaving the enemy's blue-and-gold standard waving in the debris-laden breeze.

The Human artillerymen beside me let out a cheer and jump up and down, slapping each other's outstretched hands.

The army of Humans watching from beyond the battery all jump around and cheer, too, their yells loud even compared to a half-dozen high explosive shells.

And... so do the Human gunners on the hillside across the river, and the army behind them. They all cheer and applaud. Even though they are, in fact, the enemy whose defenses are getting blasted into pieces the size of a poet's paycheck by the aforementioned coilguns. So... I cheer my lovely green head off right along with them, because things are exploding and stuff is burning and apparently the Humans on this planet just generally approve of that sort of thing.

My name is Solontha reValthinna, and I'm the Felra who goes to the places nobody else wants to and learns about them the hard way so you can learn about them the easy way. That's my angle as an author, and that's why I'm the Pretty Idiot.

----

"Solontha, darling, I've got just the destination for your next Pretty Idiot's Guide!"

My business agent only sounds that chirpy when she's found some new way to try to get me killed. I'd like to think it's because the more trouble I get into, the better the resulting books turn out. That, or she still hasn't forgiven me for that topless dance I did at the Publishers' Guild dinner party she took me to. In my defense, they provided the liquor. I just happened to drink a lot of it.

Also in my defense, my topless dancing is godlike.

"Not back to the Tarq Imperium, I hope? They said they'd shoot me if they ever caught me inside their borders again."

My agent clucked at me. "They said no such thing. They just heavily implied it. And that was only because you wrote that they were a bunch of pointlessly brutal totalitarian fuckwads."

I snorted. "That's right. And it was the 'fuckwad' part that they objected to."

"Nobody likes being called a fuckwad, Solontha. Fuckwads least of all. But, no, I'm thinking we send you to write about a Human planet this time."

Humans? Interesting... The few I've known, I've mostly liked. Well, I don't hate them, anyway. And they look kind of like us Felra, at least a little bit. If you took a Felra and eliminated everything behind her forelegs -- and kept her from dying from lack of some important organs, obviously -- you would have something that still doesn't look particularly like a Human. So, dye her green skin an earthier color, replace her beautiful tresses of feathery-branching tvan with coarser, single-stranded hair, remove one pair of breasts, and take a digit from each hand. She still doesn't look quite Human. Make her face a bit rounder and flatter, thicken her bone structure, and Congratulations! You've surgically converted a Felra into something that could possibly maybe pass for a Human in really poor lighting. Also, you're a sick fuck for doing such a thing.

Point being, Humans are sufficiently similar enough to us that they can be cute, in a goofy bipedal sort of way. And immersing yourself in an alien culture can be more rewarding if you can also immerse yourself in some attractive alien nookie along the way. Any aspiring travel writers who are reading this can consider that a pro-tip from the Pretty Idiot.

"So, any particular Human world? Somewhere with casinos, maybe? Or some place run by the Church of Giving Money, Liquor, and Carnal Pleasure to Sexy Alien Visitors?"

That last bit caught my agent off-guard. "Is that an actual religion?"

"If it was, do you think I'd still be working?"

"Of course you would. You love travel, trouble, and remunerated smart-assery too much to just quit." Ah, I'm such a lucky Felra. Most agents charge extra for that kind of quality banter. "The place I've got in mind for you is Rugen, a frontier-level colony world well off the outer fringe of the Arm."

"The tail-tip of nowhere, in other words. And what's the attraction for a Pretty Idiot to play tourist there? Societal collapse? Rampaging Felra-eating predators? Pandemic-level clown outbreak?"

"How about the longest-running ongoing war in the Known Galaxy? Two hundred eighty-seven common years and no end in sight."

Yow. I'm passingly familiar with war, having wandered through five or six of varying size and awfulness while sightseeing -- and writing about said sightseeing -- and three centuries is a lot of war, especially confined to one planet. I could only imagine how that could twist and scar a world and its people. The devastation. The tragedy of wasted lives and resources. The sheer dysfunctionality of societies raised for generation after generation on bitter vengeance and the never-ending march towards victory and a peace they can no longer even properly conceptualize. A world of bloodlust, paranoia, and the threat of sudden brutal death staining every moment of every day. Why, the possibilities for misery were endless.

It sounded perfect for a vacation getaway.

----

I took regular commercial liners as far as Thielbarra, but had to buy passage from there to Rugen on an independent freighter that was slightly more reputable than a spaceport prostitute, just not as hygienic. There were only three other passengers headed to my destination, including a Kreevin botanical researcher who ignored everybody and a not-very-sober Zharg who worked for one of the big interstellar communications providers and who must have fucked up his job just badly enough to get sent to an isolated hole-in-the-void posting, but not quite badly enough to be fired. I ended up sharing a cabin with the only other quadruped, an adorably optimistic Iraitrian missionary who was going to Rugen to set up a temple to the Harmonious Gods and try to get a congregation going.

Being the cynical agnostic wretch that I am, I just had to ask how much demand she thought there would be for a doctrine of cooperative religious pacifism in the middle of a war zone.

"You offer food to the starving, not to those with bellies already full," she told me. "Our beliefs are meant to be applied in the world, not just agreed with in the temple."

And did she expect to end the war all by herself?

"I hope to make a difference to someone. Whether it's by teaching the Way, by being an example, or just by offering a person who needs it a roof, a meal, and a sympathetic ear. If even one person considers their life to be better for having known me, my mission will be worthwhile."

Damn. I had been entertaining myself with the idea of flirting mercilessly with her for the whole trip, but all that earnestness. All that simple, undeniable goodness. Even my cynicism and libido combined couldn't look that in the face.

So I flirted with the ship's captain, instead. Not that there was any real challenge in it, as despite Felra not being four-armed lizard people, Jixavan males are completely enamored of our tails, which are both more voluptuous and generally more exposed than those of their own females. Pro-tip from the Pretty Idiot: if you're a Felra and need to manipulate a Jixavan guy, buy one of those tail-stockings their women wear. Even the biggest ones will be too tight and short for you, so cut a bunch of slashes in it and pull it as far up your tail as it will go. Then wear a skirt short enough to expose the top hem of the tail-stocking and enjoy your newfound powers of persuasion. I ended up getting twenty percent off my fare and three marriage proposals.

Captain Akothin had made a few runs to Rugen before, so I was able to ask him some questions about the place. If you've never read one of my Pretty Idiot's Guides before, part of my schtick, if you will, is lack of prior research regarding the places I go. My self-imposed limitation is that I can only obtain information by seeing for myself or asking someone with firsthand experience. No encyclopedias or hyperweb research. That media stuff is, at best, quarter-truths and agenda-driven grazershit, anyway. By going into a place without 'knowledge' of it, I go with fewer preconceptions. That's the 'Idiot' part of the title. The 'Pretty' part is because I am. And if you have to face life as an idiot, it really does help to be a pretty one.

The good captain had never actually made planetfall on Rugen, always conducting business from orbit. Sensible. Boring, but sensible. I therefore confined my inquiries to spacers' matters. Like, were we going to have any issues with pirates or paramilitaries on our way in-system?

"No pirates. Not enough shipping in or out for those guys to make a living raiding it and too far from any active lanes to make a useful base. Pirates operating across star systems have to really watch their fuel expenditures." Captain Akothin then proceeded to give a suspiciously well-considered dissertation on how to turn a profit in space piracy, which I will not share here but have filed away for future reference should too many of my books bomb on the market. And as for paramilitary ships affiliated with the warring factions? "I've never seen any."

What about orbital defenses? Would there be minefields to be tensely navigated? Would we be subject to stop-and-search by military patrol craft? "Rugen's a frontier-level system." The captain looked at me like I was a moron, albeit a moron with an incredibly sexy and distracting tail. "There ain't even a transshipment station, just a few cheapo weather and comm satellites. I just put the ship in a parking orbit and they send shuttles up. But it's not like the shipments are ever so big you'd need an orbital dock anyway, and shuttles are fine for passengers. Of course, that also means no orbital repair yard and no fuel depot, but that's not much worry since Rugen is just a long detour off our Thielbarra-to-Rialto route and I always do a refuel and refit at Thielbarra for safety's sake and, um, will you marry me?"

----

The shuttle ride down was as uneventful as such things generally are and afforded a chance to take in the view of Rugen from medium-high orbit. It was not a particularly exciting planet seen from 18,000 miles above its equator -- under the sparse clouds, some smallish seas, broad smears of iron-red in the right places to be deserts, accented by patches and streamers of an odd green that was almost an indecisive blue, and some blink-and-you'd-miss-them polar caps. But the thing is, it doesn't make a damn bit of difference how many planets you've seen out the porthole, or how much of an undifferentiated dirtball the one below you is. There is no such thing as 'ordinary' when it comes to the sight of a whole damn world suspended in space right in front of you. It's a moment of magic, every single time, and anybody who says otherwise is lying, or is a soulless shithead. Or, since those aren't mutually exclusive, they could be both, like a corporate journalist or a Rybathi.

I used the flight time to mentally review what firsthand knowledge of Humans I possessed. Pro-tip-slash-caveat: members of a species often behave very differently in their own polities than they do in foreign or more cosmopolitan settings. Expatriates or visitors to your world are typically trying to get along in your society and tend to adjust their behavior accordingly. Their behavior when they are in the majority and they get to decide what's normal may be radically different. That said, there were a few truths I felt comfortable in ascribing to Humans in general based on experience.

For starters, sexual dimorphism. Humans born biologically male or female remain that sex, unless medically altered. Females are usually smaller and are the ones with slightly inadequate breasts. Males tend to be bigger, stronger, and coarser-looking and, like most mammaloid males, have completely inadequate breasts. This dimorphism leads to the most basic social structures being built around male-female pairings and their offspring -- family -- rather than the looser pack-based structure of Felra. These family structures appear to have a relationship similar to, though vastly more complicated than, the Felra mother-daughter bond. Basically, if you wrong a Human, you may face retribution not just from her, but from her entire bloodline. Except sometimes you won't, because, like I said, complicated.

Second, though many Galactics tend to use the terms 'Human' and 'Terran' as synonyms, Humans emphatically do not. Among Humans, the word 'Terran' refers specifically to an inhabitant of the Terran Commonwealth, the oldest, largest, and apparently most detested Human stellar nation. Humans who are not Commonwealth natives tend to have negative reactions to being called 'Terrans'. In this context, the term 'negative reactions' seems to cover a range from 'cold and profane verbal correction' to 'assault with a power-nailer'. Maybe this trip would offer a chance to find out why that might be? I'd also been told that actual Terrans react poorly to being called 'Human', though I've never met any Commonwealth Terrans and can't say for sure if that's true.

Third, Humans tend to be territorial, and therefore possessive. They have a strong impulse to guard things they have laid claim to. Don't try to make use of anything a Human regards as their own without asking permission first, even if you intend to give it right back. This impulse extends quite strongly to their romantic or sexual partners as well and attempting to bed, or even flirt with, a Human who has been claimed by another will tend to be met with hostility. You could try asking for permission, I guess, but that just seems to lead to socially awkward hostility. And if you don't know why socially awkward hostility is worse than the regular kind, then obviously you've never been in a fistfight with a drunken Dahu who was sporting a clingy wet kilt and a massive erection.

next

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More Known Galaxy stories
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20 Overlooked Single Player Indie Games

Introduction
We're all familiar with the Hotline Miami's, Hollow Knight's, and Celeste's of the world. These are some of the indie games that hit the big time. Of course, for every one of these games, there's 100 other indie games that have been glossed over, relegated to a spot in a digital store few people will ever find themselves in. I wanted to bring attention to some of these lesser known indie games.
I'm going to order them according to Metacritic Critic Ratings. Some of the games towards the bottom have a pretty low rating that I personally disagree with, but it's only fair that you hear from more than just me. While the reviews are low for some games, this is partly due to how few reviews there are for some games. #19 on the list has a 49% for the Xbox One version of the game due to it only having two reviews, while the PlayStation 4 version has a 90% rating due to it only having one review, despite both versions being functionally the same. This high level of variance usually occurs when a game only has a few reviews.
Price will include a link to the U.S. store page of the game. Price is in U.S. dollars.
1. Inertial Drift
2. Cursed Castilla (Maldita Castilla EX)
3. Valfaris
4. Pumpkin Jack
5. Pato Box
6. Ultra Hat Dimension
7. Momodora: Reverie Under the Moonlight
8. The Count Lucanor
9. Late Shift
10. Unbox: Newbie’s Adventure
11. Spark the Electric Jester 2
12. Remothered: Tormented Fathers
13. Four Sided Fantasy
14. SINNER: Sacrifice for Redemption
15. Tamashii
16. Verlet Swing
17. Warlock’s Tower
18. The Bunker
19. Hayfever
20. Cybarian: The Time-Traveling Warrior
Conclusion
My top 5 on the list in order would be the following: (1.) Hayfever, (2.) Valfaris, (3.) Cursed Castilla: (Maldita Castilla EX), (4.) Momodora: Reverie Under the Moonlight, and (5.) Pumpkin Jack.
Have you played any of these games? What are some other overlooked single player indie games?
See my post below for some upcoming indie games to look out for.
submitted by Underwhere_Overthere to XboxSeriesX [link] [comments]

20 Overlooked Single Player Indie Games

We're all familiar with the Hotline Miami's, Hollow Knight's, and Celeste's of the world. These are some of the indie games that hit the big time. Of course, for every one of these games, there's 100 other indie games that have been glossed over, relegated to a spot in a digital store few people will ever find themselves in. I wanted to bring attention to some of these lesser known indie games.
I'm going to order them according to Metacritic Critic Ratings. Some of the games at the bottom have pretty low critic ratings. I personally disagree with the low scores of these games, but it's only fair that you hear from more than just me. Keep in mind that games with only one or two User Ratings on Metacritic will not show the score. A game needs at least three User Ratings on Metacritic before the score will be shown. This is not the case for Critic Reviews.
Price will contain the U.S. PlayStation Store link to the game.
1. Hayfever
2. Valfaris
3. Four Sided Fantasy
4. Bleep Bloop
5. Horizon Shift ‘81
6. Daggerhood
7. Momodora: Reverie Under the Moonlight
8. Ultra Hat Dimension
9. Remothered: Tormented Fathers
10. Reverie
11. Inertial Drift
12. Cursed Castilla (Maldita Castilla EX)
13. Pato Box
14. The Count Lucanor
15. The Bunker
16. A Tale of Paper
17. Late Shift
18. SINNER: Sacrifice for Redemption
19. Verlet Swing
20. Neon Drive
Conclusion
My top 5 on the list in order would be the following: (1.) Hayfever, (2.) Valfaris, (3.) Cursed Castilla: (Maldita Castilla EX), (4.) Momodora: Reverie Under the Moonlight, and (5.) Bleep Bloop.
Have you played any of these games? What are some other overlooked single player indie games?
If you’re looking for more indie games to play, see my post here:
submitted by Underwhere_Overthere to PS5 [link] [comments]

Another 10 Overlooked Single Player Indie Games

There are also some links within the first link that discuss indie local multiplayer games as well.
Introduction
We're all familiar with the Hotline Miami's, Hollow Knight's, and Celeste's of the world. These are some of the indie games that hit the big time. Of course, for every one of these games, there's 100 other indie games that have been glossed over, relegated to a spot in a digital store few people will ever find themselves in. I wanted to bring attention to some of these lesser known indie games once again.
Details About the List
I'm going to order them according to Metacritic Critic Ratings. Two of the games towards the bottom have a pretty low rating that I personally disagree with, but it's only fair that you hear from more than just me. I’ve also selected a music track I enjoyed for each game for all you audiophiles out there.
Price will include a link to the U.S. store page of the game. Price is in U.S. dollars.
1. Ultra Hat Dimension
2. Bot Vice
3. Golf Peaks
4. Horizon Shift ‘81
5. Kero Blaster
6. Pato Box
7. Pumpkin Jack
8. SINNER: Sacrifice for Redemption
9. Tamashii
10. The Long Return
Have you played any of these games? What are some other overlooked single player indie games?
If you’re looking for more indie games to play, see my post here:
175 Local Multiplayer Games from 35 Different Genres on Switch
submitted by Underwhere_Overthere to NintendoSwitch [link] [comments]

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