A tourism propaganda about planet Joh’yal

When I first arrived on Planet Joh’yal, I was captivated by its reputation as the "Apex tourism planet" of the galactic sector. Known for its breathtaking megastructure arcologies and harmonious interspecies society, Joh’yal seemed the epitome of a utopian paradise. As a human tourist planning to stay for 3.5 galactic standard cycles (equivalent to one Earth year), I anticipated an immersive experience in a society that was said to have mastered civility and cultural integration.

The planet, known as a hub of intergalactic trade and diplomacy, coupled with its advanced technology, promised a seamless blend of innovation and coexistence. Every city, housed within towering arcologies, buzzed with life, hosting humans, Klorkians, Joovies, and a scattering of minority alien species. My initial impressions were glowing: Joh’yal was a beacon of tolerance, a place where diverse beings coexisted in harmony, or so I believed until I encountered a deeper reality.

The city where I lodged, known as Lumora Arcology, was a marvel of engineering and aesthetics. Its crystalline spires stretched kilometers into the sky, housing millions in a self-contained ecosystem. Public spaces were vibrant: jetpack bays allowed residents to soar between districts, virtual bars offered immersive sensory experiences, and food courts showcased cuisines from across the galaxy. I observed humans laughing with Joovies over shared meals and Klorkians teaching children their traditional dances. These interactions suggested a society that had transcended prejudice, a melting pot reminiscent of Earth’s most idealistic visions.

The first thing I wanted to try was the food. I’m a cuisine guy and have tried all sorts of delicacies back home. I went to this restaurant called Flemel’s and was welcomed by a holographic projection of a female Joovie. The ambiance was dimmer than I preferred, reminding me of a medieval pub from a role-playing game I once played, lit by sparse torches; however, the air was fragrant and aromatic. I hypothesized that Joovies’ eyes are more sensitive to light than humans’.

I was seated at a two-person table; it was round, shiny, and lustrous. A towering male Joovie, with a low-pitched voice, asked, “May I take your order? ”.

“Ermh... What’s the recommended meal for humans? ” I cleared my throat.

The Joovie waiter smiled, scrolling through his transparent tablet device. I thought I detected a fleeting micro-expression of malice—or perhaps I was imagining it, given my limited interactions with Joovies.

“I recommend you try our Jelly Soup with corn kernels.”

I nodded and ordered it without hesitation, though an uneasy feeling stirred in my gut.

While waiting for my meal, I glanced at some arriving pair of Klorkians, a male and a female. Maybe a date. They were seated and asked by another towering male Joovie. I noticed the difference in the microfacial expression; it was different from my experience. Maybe this waiter is more amiable.

My meal arrived: a gooey, white soup with a few yellow corn kernels sprinkled on top, ungarnished and unappetizing. Determined not to judge by appearances, I took a spoonful. Instantly, my tongue signaled alarm, like a spaceship struck by a micro-meteorite, with cabins flashing red warning lights. A sharp itch and sting spread through my mouth, and my lips began to swell. This was unlike any Earth spice. I spat the soup back into the bowl.

I rang the beeper, and the same male Joovie approached.

“I can’t eat this—why is it itchy and stinging? ” I protested, striving to manage my anger.

“I’m terribly sorry, sir. I didn’t anticipate you would dislike it—”

“Call your manager, please,” I interrupted, my tone commanding yet tinged with disappointment.

A few minutes later, a female Joovie approached. My lips were now completely swollen and red.

“Oh my Hakabi! I’m incredibly sorry, sir. There was a misunderstanding between the waiter and you. I assure you this will not happen again. Please gargle this antidote.”

I gargled the antidote, which quickly alleviated the itching and stinging. I spat it into the bowl.

“Your waiter should have known the dish’s effects on humans, shouldn’t he? ” I asked pointedly.

“Yes, I’m terribly sorry—he will face disciplinary action. Please accept this voucher for your trouble.”

I took the voucher but had no intention of returning. Silently, I left the establishment, my suspicions confirmed by the subtle smirk on the Joovie waiter’s face as I departed.

Perhaps my experience was an isolated incident, I reasoned. I took a brisk walk through an open park filled with holographic advertisements and displays. There, I began to notice subtle tensions: furtive glances between species and occasional sharp tones in the crowd, hinting at unspoken divides. A subtle bias against humans was particularly evident.

Disappointed by my first dining experience, I sought the finest dining establishments in Lumora catering specifically to humans. I turned to Joh’yal’s public forums, expecting recommendations that reflected the city’s warmth. Instead, I encountered a digital cesspool of vitriol. Anonymity, it seemed, stripped away the civility I had witnessed in person, unleashing vile prejudice and hostility. Below are excerpts from the forums that shattered my perception of Joh’yal:

Title: Stewed Kelt Beef—Everyone Should Try This!

Posted by: 9BallBuster [Human]

Sol_BestStar [Human]: Does it contain peanuts? I’m allergic.

Klar8ios [Joovies]: How does your species even exist? Weak organism.

Sol_BestStar [Human]: Your ancestors looked like pets we fed food waste. Fuck off!

Klar8ios [Joovies]: STFU. Your species are genital shakers, kakaka.

Title: Roasted Cartilage Fish with Seed—the Best Soft Food at Jooms

Posted by: ItosQ [Klorkian]

Applestardust22 [Human]: With that humongous head of yours, of course it’s soft.

ItosQ [Klorkian]: Nobody asked for your opinion, anal wiper.

Applestardust22 [Human]: At least I don’t share memories by connecting headtails with my fellow species. Faggot.

Hoping this toxicity was confined to food forums, I explored discussions on sports and arts. My optimism was misplaced.

Title: I Beat Every Human in Their Own Game Called ‘Chess’

Posted by: hoovTi77 [Klorkian]

CarlsenBest2301 [Human]: Memorizing a million variation moves isn’t thinking or analyzing. Don’t make me laugh, moonhead.

hoovTi77 [Klorkian]: Then explain why you also sometimes get beaten by the howling species.

HuuB [Joovies]: Howling species? Without your translator, all I hear is gurgling or farting.

Title: Holo-Sculpture Exhibits Are Overrated

Posted by: Ankoy12 [Joovies]

Hercule312 [Human]: Your species wouldn’t know art if it glowed in your face.

Ankoy12 [Joovies]: Says the creature who paints with dirt and calls it culture.

KlarMind [Klorkian]: Both of you are embarrassing. Stick to your primitive, stone-chipped crafts.

The venom in these exchanges was staggering. Terms like “moonhead” and “genital shakers” revealed deep-seated stereotypes, while insults targeting biological traits underscored a bigotry I had not anticipated in Joh’yal’s advanced society.

On Earth, internet anonymity often amplifies prejudice, but I had assumed Joh’yal’s enlightened society would be immune. Instead, the forums suggested that anonymity allowed residents to express suppressed biases. These exchanges mirrored Earth’s own struggles with online toxicity, suggesting that no society, however advanced, is exempt from the darker impulses anonymity unleashes, no matter the species. I now understand these digital conflicts reflected the masked and suppressed offline tensions, exaggerated by the freedom of facelessness.

Disturbed, I logged off the internet.

Joh’yal was not so harmonious after all. I fell for the tourism propaganda.