The best friends I have are the ones that really get me.

I thought this would be a fun little conversation to share. Recently I put up a post on Facebook that read: "Tonight's one of those nights where I need a large space to flail about both embarrassingly and whole-heartedly in an attempt to dance.

And then I'm sad because I have a small room."

The following conversation ensued in the comments:

Damon: "I get that too. But I don't care.

Then when that apathy gets its way I trip on everything and kick every piece of furniture.

The lesson here is that dance apathy is bad and space ducks can't fly over Australia."

Myself: "Damon, you're pretty much my favorite person ever.

Also, what about space geese?"

Damon: "They can, but they're really not supposed to because of the Plutonian Pact of Hermes, but since Pluto stopped being considered a planet, no one really follows it's regulations anymore.

They get neat laser light show parties though."

Myself: "Wait, wasn't the Plutonian Pact of Hermes negated before that anyways because of the Jupitarian Proclamations?

Or was that just certain clauses and not the whole thing?

Because I know for sure that sea cucumbers can't marry their own stomachs anymore."

Damon: "It's complicated. The Plutionian Pact of Hermes and Jupitarian Proclamations did clash and negate parts of themselves, some to the point where it nulled their own negations, and others that nulled the nullment of their negations. So while space geese could technically still due to both Plutonian and Jupitarian laws, they shouldn't but no one will actually go to stop them.

The sea cucumber thing, though, came from the Mercurianite Thrice Treaty. But it was really more of some small clause added in that really didn't have much to do with the treaty itself."

Myself: "Ah, I see. I never go too far into politics unless it has some direct correlation with my life. When my friend mentioned the new sea cucumber clause, I was a bit surprised and looked that up myself. Apparently not too extensively. 

I've noticed the Mercurianites seem to be extensive on bickering over things that don't matter too much. You know, like how octopi can't dance the Tarantella in public restaurants. I'm not even sure they were able to do that in the first place, unless they were solely discussing the octopi native to Neptune. They have, what, six legs? They could probably do it fairly interestingly.

As for the other pacts and treaties, I never could make much sense of them, which is probably why I lost interest. Maybe I should just have you translate for me from now on, as I hardly speak the language."

Damon: "Mercurianites do seem to do that don't they? In fact, I think that the octopi doing the Tarantella was just a way to try to one-up the Venucian thing against squid attacking cities with interpretive dance.

And I could try to translate for you, but roughly for about another month or so. You know, because of that Saturian charter stating that the language used for intergalactic new and law must be in a completely new, made from the ground up language every seven years. Normally I'd be all about it, but I don't think I can keep up with it. From what they've released so far, the new language has roughly 9,656,200,347 symbols in it, and the conversion to English is supposed to be extensively time consuming."

Myself: "Oh, I forgot about the seven year thing. You know, when I was a child I grew up with the 72nd version of Zimibachian, but it was changed the year I turned 12. Gave up on it since then, but I picked up on a few things here and there.

Since they're about to change it again, I could always give it another go. Rebellious teen-years earned me nothing but an apparent lack in knowledge about goings on in our prospective solar system. I really don't see the point in the Saturian charter, or why those guys seem to be the big guns in communications. I mean heck, they have a life span of what, the equivalent of 3 months here on Earth? That's only about 72 days on Saturn.

You'd think with such a short life span they'd worry less about the changing of languages and more about their own retirement."

Damon: "Yeah, but Saturians are big on the whole "Change is good and refreshing" thing. Most cities aren't even near completion because the plans keep changing, so I really don't know who decided they'd be good for making the language call.

Then again, since they have shorter lifespans, I guess it seems like a long time goes by for them. Maybe that's why they feel the language change every seven years is justified."

Myself: "I thought about that, and that could make sense. The only problem is that whenever you need to get into a debate with one of them, you have to do it over satellite due to the fact that if you travelled there, the ones you wished to speak with would already be deceased and whatever the important topic of conversation was has probably been pushed aside and/or changed around by their future generations. 

All I'm saying is that any civilization who is unable to take the time to attend a simple trip to a conference in the solar system without dying shouldn't be in charge of negations like language. Maybe that's racist, but if there's a race that should be in charge of that kind of thing it's the Uranians. They live for like 700 years aboard their ships.Then again, they don't do much of anything, do they? They're all uppity due to their "supreme technology." Can't argue with that statement, but they don't have to have their head up their anus all the time...well, maybe they do."

Damon: "Yeah. They stink like that. We'd probably have more stable systems and more solid (and less derpy) intergalactic laws. Or at the least take some time to help the other civilizations get on the same page.

Or maybe try expanding the Saturian's lifespan, but that might be a stretch."

Myself: "Pfft, like the Uranians would ever share. No one in the reachable parts of the galaxy have that sort of technology, well, at least no one we would want to contact.

I think the Yanarians might, but the last time we tried to make contact with them, we ended up with a bunch of damaged corn in fields across the planet. Still not sure whether the signs were their cruel idea of a joke or whether or not they can actually speak some sort of verbal communication."

Damon: "Maybe the Uranians don't share because of some crazy treaty they have with the Yanarians, which would explain why I haven't heard of them fighting yet. Or get crazy signs.

I sure hope that wasn't a cruel joke. Yanarians are rumored to have a thing for taking jokes a little too far. The punch-line is normally a fourth of the planet missing."

Myself: "Honestly I feel like they manufacture their reputation as galactic pranksters just to get out of full repercussions when they're brought in for trial.

Somehow their plea of "C'mon, where's your sense of humor?" has repeatedly got them out of life-sentences for mining in the Asteriod Belt of Metramuun and the Juaviltic Death Penalty by freezing due to instances like "accidentally" shutting down life-support for several space stations and "losing" the one-of-a-kind Venucian Seven-Point Diamond during a "scavenger hunt" they were setting up for the Venucian government. 

Pretty sure they still got fined."

Damon: "They did actually. I was very surprised, and the Uranians didn't seem to pleased about it.

I predict shenanigans."

Myself: "Well, as long as they don't bring them to Earth again.
Or mess up our solar system in any way that could jeopardize the colonies and populations.

Heck, Yanarians aren't even from around here, can't we just deport them? Doesn't the solar system have a border of any kind?"

Damon: "Kind of yes, kind of no. The Galactic Border Gate is kind of a fluid concept.

Martians are in charge of GBG boarder control and deportation, but the head of that is the Martian G.E.M.I.N.I. force, and despite being the best at what they do, they aren't well funded.?"

Myself: "Oh, yeah. Martians have had it pretty rough since their "Polar Cap Project' fell through. Remember? When that ancient bacteria infected and killed off most of the native populace, as well as anyone who purchased their 'fresh water.'

That was nasty. They're a population of warfare, also, so they haven't had much time for repopulation; not that they could handle a baby boom after that economic disaster. You gotta feel for those guys."

Damon: "Oh man, I know. The only reason they're still surviving is a storage of clones they had from war stocks. I hope they're planning for that since they only have a finite amount of clones to work with."

Myself: "Most of them were male, too. I feel bad for those females. 

I think a significant number of them put themselves in stasis for safekeeping for the time being. I would, too, honestly. I'd feel a little pressure at that point."

Damon: "You'd think that since they have technology to clone for military purposes, that they could implement that here, but maybe this is something that just slipped their minds or something. 

Yet another thing Uranians could solve if they weren't so far up their own bums."

Myself: "I'll bet the Uranians didn't name their own planet. Someone was probably trying to tell them something.

They'll probably start the test-tube offspring once their economy is back in order. Hopefully. With that kind of a crash, they're going to need support from other colonies to get back on their feet, but in return all they have to offer is their militia which is spread thin as it is, and no one wants an empty trade.

Normally, the potential loss of a race would merit some sort of charitable motions, but the potential of them being a booming race of well-armed soldiers in the galaxy is looming as well. No wonder assistance is taking so long."

Damon: "There was at one point a Saturian bill being made in order to proceed with assisting the Martian population, but I think that was like, around Christmas last year. And every other planet is more wrapped up in their own trivial matters to actually attend to Martian needs. 

Although, Martians could maybe devote their C.A.N.C.E.R. and L.I.B.R.A. departments towards a Yanarian protection force for other planets since those divisions don't really much purpose other than historical namesake. I mean, yeah it isn't really much since each has roughly only 343 units which isn't really much on a galactic scale, but it could be a start to get others involved to their restoration."


Myself: "True, but as you said, it isn't much. At best, what they're offering is the equivalent of a small band of galactic mercenaries, which probably won't be enough to sway the larger, wealthier breadwinners of the galaxies. 

To get their support, they'll need much more than that, however, maybe if they traded their departments towards smaller planets for a few precious resources, with enough time they could cultivate enough resources for a trade route with the other colonies. The inhabitants of P4x-639 in the Asteriod Belt of Haanas would be a good place to start."

I'll stop there, mostly because last time I checked, that's where it stopped. Happens all the time and I love it. Little, nonsensical creativity bursts that make my day. How it got to this, I have no idea, but I'm good with it. So thanks, Damon, for being awesome. c: