The alien races of my Strange Galaxy are many and diverse. They are not human, however, because none of them have a soul. Refined or savage their nature is feral. Wise or simple their thoughts are literal. Reserved or gregarious their feelings are unbridled. Their tastes are simple and their ways entirely practical.
The alien races have songs and poetry but are incapable of fiction. Their legends are never embellished. Their histories are often cryptic but always true. Their art is never in the image of what it is not. Primitive or advanced, no alien society is superstitious. No alien culture has a mythology. Matrimony is common but adultery and divorce are unheard of. Substance abuse and other self-destructive tendencies are exclusively human.
Civilized, barbaric or savage, the races without a soul are natural creatures moved by instinctive impulses to fill their particular cosmic niche. Unlike humans, they have an innate sense of purpose, thus, they are not prone to human angst or wonder. Though they do not suffer our foibles, they are not endowed with our infinite potential.
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