Why?

Why not? This blog is a collection of stories from a parallel universe--one in which technology is linked to consciousness, and everything happens the way it's supposed to (at least, that's what they want you to believe). And, as usual, nobody has a clue what's going on. This universe has been narrowly, but intensively inhabited by volunteers on h2g2's Beta rpg, which you may visit at your peril. May the Gheorgheni gods go with you.

09 April 2011

Superstitions in the Milky Way Galaxy, By One Who Knows

Superstition has been defined as:

1.A belief, practice, or rite irrationally maintained by ignorance of the laws of nature or by faith in magic or chance,

2. A fearful or abject state of mind resulting from such ignorance or irrationality.

- The FreeDictionary.com

Unfortunately, more informed sources in the galaxy have observed that superstition on an interplanetary level is harder to define, as it has been noted that, the universe being the enormously diverse thing that it is, most beliefs, practices and rites end up making some sort of sense somewhere, and that anyway, abject fear as a state of mind is pretty darn rational.


Take, for example, the marriage customs of the Gallusoid Chicken People of Betamax Delta: it may seem silly to carry your bride over the threshold on your wedding night, but not if the bride is likely to become hypnotised for hours by the straight line across the doorway.

For similar reasons, Gallusoid bridegrooms always insist upon leaving the lights on for all stages of the connubial ceremony for which at least partial consciousness is required.

Many Earth superstitions, however, do not translate well on other planets, even with the help of the monstrously misnamed 'universal translator'. It is hard to explain an irrational fear of walking under ladders to species who have developed neither pedal locomotion nor the multistorey dwelling.

On the other hand, fear of breaking mirrors has become so widespread in the galaxy, that on some of the more thaumaturgically advanced planets, the laws of optics have been amended to preclude reflection, leading to a disastrous decline in the stocks of major cosmetics companies. The monumentally complex lawsuit Mary Kay vs The Ontological Wizards of Aldebaran is now in its third decade, local time, and promises to keep the lawyers in poscred heaven for a few more.

Superstitions can often be contradictory from one planetary system to another. It is advisable when travelling to consult Dr Artaxerxes Prolax's handy compendium, Never Laugh at a Whufflecrumpet: 3003 Galactic Superstitions and Behavioural Oddities, which has saved more than one plucky Researcher from ending up as the main ingredient in Melancholian Missionary Stew.

Among the gems to be found in Dr Prolax's book, one finds the curious custom of the Arachnid People of Acrosticon IV, of leaving their shoes outside the door of any dwelling, in the order in which they take them off. This makes more sense when one realises that the Arachnid People not only possess eight legs, and therefore feet, each, but are also afflicted with a fatal inability to tell left from right, due to a confusion in the bilateral-symmetry areas of their brains. Leaving the shoes outside the door in order not only obviates the problem of which shoe goes on which foot, but also eliminates troublesome controversies about exactly whose new quadripair of red-swoosh Solaris(TM) those were.

Akin to the problem of superstitions is the question of ghosts. Although opinions vary across the galaxy as to their existence, the majority view appears to be that anything that lacks physical substance, fails to be able to move matter, and can't be seen by at least three of the people in the room is probably not a threat. Or possibly the result of one too many cups of lassa tea.

An exception to this is the Priesthood of Xenophobos, the Warrior Prince of Isolation, who reason that all foreigners, not being sanctioned to exist by their god, must be ghosts, and therefore regularly attempt to exorcise tourists. The tourists, in turn, have been known to amuse themselves quite unfairly at the expense of the Priesthood, by playing elaborate poltergeist pranks on them, and finally agreeing to leave only if bribed with commercial quantities of the appropriate sacred herbs.

Pending a definitive update on what the laws of nature actually are, it is safe to say that the traveller's best policy in all cases is informed tolerance in new situations. That, and a really good pair of running shoes.

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