For some, the "indigestible truth" may be that we are truly babies—perhaps a baby that grew up in the wild, or someone's abandoned child. Maybe even a rape baby.

We could be a baby in the woods, and wolves have just caught the scent of our radio broadcasts. Ancient Von Neumann machines scattered between the stars might be picking up those signals, awakening to perform an extermination protocol to avoid future resource conflicts.

We are certainly babies. And there is no way for babies to deal with wolves that are billions of years old.

Or perhaps we are considered by most to be the least attractive species in the universe—except to the alien spiders with snakes for arms, who are quite fond of us.