are humans the only mammals that can eat chocolat? what about reptiles (birds included)?
in general, mammals are the only vertebrate family that has even a few members that can safely process the toxin theobromine and eat chocolate!
these species are basically just humans and a large chunk of the rodent family tree and its relatives (one of these things is not like the others). nothing else can have chocolate though, not fish or birds or turtles or lizards. just these specific mammals.
and here they are together! awwww.
birds are even extra-susceptible to the toxin, meaning that even a very small amount will kill them stone dead!
theobromine is absolutely not messing around. it's a very potent explode-your-heart chemical and it evolved to PREVENT vertebrates from eating cacao seeds, because those are the cacao tree's children and plants show parental love through chemical warfare.
humans don't care, though. humans will eat your children.
so, yeah. this is just another case of humans specifically being very weird.
and that's wonderful.
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Dear Corporate Overlords:
Okay, okay I just need a moment to bask in the truly monumental, epic levels of tone-deafness going on, ‘cause I can’t stop hyena cackling.
Jeopardy is currently on reruns – they did their full season, good for them. But while they take their well deserved break, it’s reruns. Which means your target demographic is probably gonna include a large amount of, shall we say, enthusiastic trivia buffs. Jeopardy is still selling ad-space, because capitalism, so that meant while we were waiting for the Final Jeopardy question tonight, a new ad came on, in the cutesy-boo fashion of asking an inane question related to said ad.
Today, it was not about car insurance or vitamin supplements. No, it was something* about Galadriel.
Yes, the girl-boss version for the new, hopefully dead on arrival show of awfulness.
The Powers That Be decided it was A Good Idea to advertise on a TRIVIA SHOW for their bad Game of Thrones vibed fiasco wherein they FIRED their own trivia expert(s?).
I don’t even go here, and even I can recognize what a terrible, terrible idea that was.
* I have no idea what. I was too busy howling with laughter at the incongruity to read the screen.
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Today's unwelcome discovery, which came free with yesterday's bivalent booster, is that fevers can have an emotional component.
I'm familiar with me being touchy/grouchy as a byproduct of the physical load of pain and illness. But this is qualitatively different from "weariness impacting patience and forbearance". This radiating glum pissed off sadness, as physically present as the headache and chills and sore arm -- the fuck, man.
Even the cat can taste it, he's shoved himself against my face and is trying to purr directly into my skull.
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Decoy
Zhee stopped abruptly on the raised pathway, making one of many bug-alien hisses. This one was quiet and annoyed. The annoyed part didn’t narrow things down much for me, since he found many things irritating and wasn’t shy about telling the world about it (whichever world we were on at the time), but the quietness seemed significant.
I was glad I hadn’t bumped into him, and not just because he had the package we were supposed to deliver strapped to his back. (I’d volunteered to hold the thing, but he insisted that I keep my hands free since I only had two feet and was that much more likely to fall into the swamp. I’d wanted to argue that, but didn’t).
“What’s wrong?” I asked in an undertone.
“Them,” Zhee hissed, peering around a tower of sprouting plants and decaying wood that had once been a massive tree. The path curved off in that direction, blocked from view.
I crept forward for a look. Voices murmured. Then something splashed, and people were complaining loudly.
There on the path ahead of us were three Mesmers, all varying shades of gem-bedecked green to Zhee’s purple, waving their pincher arms about in irritation while a Frillian stood to one side with a fancy hovercart full of supplies and a long-suffering expression. The water rippled next to a half-submerged log. I wondered if one of them had thrown something or if a local creature had jumped in. Two of the Mesmers were holding bits of tech that I didn’t recognize from a distance.
Zhee was still hissing. “Why are they here, of all places? Blocking my way instead of getting on each other’s nerves literally anywhere else?”
“Who are they?” I asked. They hadn’t spotted us yet, busy as they were with complaining more than Zhee ever did.
“Rich idiots from my hatching year,” he grumbled. “They are not going to make this interaction pleasant.”
I looked around the swamp, with all its murky water and sparse trees. “We can’t really go around, can we?” The walkway was the only sign of civilization. While it was plenty wide for people to pass each other, even with hovercarts, it was the only one in eyesight. There weren’t even stepping stones.
“No,” Zhee said. “Wading through the water wouldn’t do us any good; we’d still be in sight.”
“I’m not even sure it’s shallow enough to wade through,” I said, eyeballing the water. It had all manner of algae and alien moss floating in it.
“It is,” Zhee told me. “I’ve delivered here before. But they’ll see us either way.”
“What are they even doing?” I asked. It seemed too much to hope that they’d just leave if we waited a few minutes.
Zhee jabbed a pincher into the soft bark of the stump. “Nature photography. Looking for rare specimens with their expensive cameras. Probably on the trail of a Shrieking Tatterwing or Hooting Fungus.”
“There’s a fungus that hoots?”
Zhee angled his antennae into a frown at me. “It’s an animal. Just looks like fungus.”
“Got it.”
Neither of us moved for a moment, just watching the trio of spangly birdwatchers and their assistant who probably wasn’t paid enough to deal with them. They really did argue a lot. As far as I could tell, the three of them were having two different debates at once: whose fault it was that the water creature had fled, and whether the glimpse of a wingbeat in the distance was worth leaving the path to investigate.
That gave me an idea. “Hey, are they likely to go off after a sound they haven’t heard before? Or something they can’t quite place?”
Zhee gave me a look. “Are you thinking of imitating an animal call from your planet?”
“Yeah. Either verbally or—” I leaned over the water to pluck something like a blade of grass from a spray of plantlife. “I can make a pretty sharp bird call with this.”
Zhee’s alien face regarded me, tilting slightly. “How?”
“Like this.” I stretched it taut between my thumbs, in the way I’d learned to do as an outdoorsy kid. There was just enough of a gap between my knuckles. With all my fingers spread wide, I blew through the gap, and it made a piercing shriek that could have been a bird.
The Mesmers looked around; Zhee and I shrank back out of sight. I adjusted the grass and tried again, this time getting a warbly call that sounded like a duck with a stuffy nose.
When I held my silence, I heard a heated debate over what kind of creature had made the sounds, and whether they came from the same one or two different beasts. But the argument wrapped up quickly with the reminded that they really were here to find a Hooting Fungus.
“Knew it,” Zhee said.
“This is worth a shot, then.” I let the grass flutter to the pathway and laced my fingers together into another childhood favorite. With my hands cupped around nothing and as airtight as I could make them, I again blew into the gap between my thumbs, this time just the top half. The air circled through into a satisfying hoot.
They got very excited at that.
“I told you! I caught a glimpse over there!”
“It sounded like it came from more over this way; it must have moved!”
“Hurry, before it moves farther out!”
Two splashes, then a third, and I was grinning in delighted surprise at Zhee. The quiet burble of a hover engine reached my ears as the Frillian took the sensible route off-road after them.
After a few moments, we peeked around the stump. There they went, off into the murk, complaining and shushing each other and aiming their cameras upward. Soon enough they were out of sight behind more trees.
Zhee stepped forward. “Well,” he said. “That was shockingly successful.”
“You’re welcome,” I said happily.
We strolled along the empty pathway, with plenty of time to get our delivery there in time.
Zhee said, “You should make those noises on the ship when no one’s watching. See if they think an animal got in.”
I looked at him in amusement. “You’re only saying that because you already know what it is.”
“Yes,” he said haughtily, which made me laugh.
“I’ll consider it,” I said, already thinking about what other animal calls I could bring out when my alien crewmates least expected.
~~~
The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!
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Humans sure seem to eat a lot of things that are poison to most other animals. Chocolate, garlic, onions, grapes, avocados, etc. But then there's capsaicin, which I think doesn't affect birds but IS a poison to humans but then we eat it anyway?? Is there anything else we eat that's fine for (some) animals but is bad for us but we eat it anyway? Why are we like this.
capsaicin actually isn't poisonous to humans, it even has a bunch of beneficial medical effects like reducing inflammation! it IS an effective fungicide and insecticide, but eating capsaicin is not at all actually poisonous to humans even in large quantities.
it just also causes extreme pain.
it does this by directly chemically activating the ouch-I'm-on-fire nerve endings in your mouth, which is a deliberate ploy to keep you from eating the pepper fruit!
at least it was before humans got ahold of it and started deliberately cultivating them to be even hotter.
humans are just freaks and decided that they liked that. that's all.
the other stuff is just a bonus!
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