Sunday, June 19, 2011

And As I was Typing That Last Cliffie's Note...

...NPR announced an upcoming series on their morning shows for this week, "All Things Considered" and "Morning Edition," called "SWIMMING UPSTREAM." That turns out to be JUST WHAT IT SOUNDS LIKE: stories of PISCATORIAL LOVE. They mentioned a woman who gave up her day job to SELL FISH, and a man so good at his commercial-fishery career that the fish seem to COME TO HIM.


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Just Heard This On NPR!

I HAD TO LOG ON IMMEDIATELY to share this news with you. It appears that some Shaved Monkey theoretician has actually FIGURED OUT why humans learned to speak. The newscaster said that the usual belief system (or as I call it, B.S.) around human speech has concerned the primal need to IMPROVE THEIR SPECIES' CHANCE AT SURVIVAL.

(He did not point out the obvious: the usual logic is bass-ackward. You don't develop a new ability so that something good will eventually happen to you. The fact is, you develop a new ability, and if later on it turns out that it helps you survive, great. Ambulocetus took to the water because it was NICE AND COOL ON HOT DAYS, and the rest is history. Saying that humans developed speech to improve their chances at survival is like saying that an ancient Tree Hyrax learned to swim so that one day her descendants could perform at Sea World.)

Well, someone has actually realized that speech was originally developed in order to WIN ARGUMENTS. NEVER FORGET, ladies, that humans are nothing but STATUS MONKEYS. Nothing else matters to them but how they look to the other monkeys. NOTHING. Every artifact of their (chuckle) civilization is about making themselves look good. That's why they built the Sphinx, the Apollo space probes, and the Pentagon. It's why they sweat it out in their off hours, trying to write the Great American Novel. It's why they get into bar fights. In fact, the Guiness Book Of Records was originally compiled in order to settle arguments in a bar without the fisticuffs. Because these stoopid arguments between the Naked Apes are SO IMPORTANT to them that they routinely kill each other over them. I heard about one not too long ago, in which one Naked Ape squoze another such Ape's neck between his thighs until his foe was dead...over a disputed chess game. This is what we're up against, ladies. EVERYTHING in human society boils down to arguments between Shaved Monkeys.

It's a little ironic to MOI that this insight will almost cetainly go unnoticed. Even if they see the usefulness of this realization, and apply it in a positive direction, well, IT'S TOO LATE. The sun os going to explode next year, remember? Ask any deceased Mayan. And if the sun doesn't explode? WE ARE ON THE JOB.


Saturday, June 18, 2011

Last Night I Dreamed I Was Human Again...


I was looking at a small fishtank I had emptied along time ago, of what I thought was its only occupant, a deceased Siamese Fighting Fish. I had never cleaned the tank out, however, and now I saw with surprise that there was SOMEONE STILL IN THERE. It was a tiny, brilliant-green Eel, looking at me very knowingly.

WELL, I GOT HIM OUT OF THERE ALL RIGHT, but then the scene shifted and my one, tiny, green Eel -- who really looked more like a tree snake, if you ask me -- was suddenly a GREAT BIG BAG OF BROWN EELS. Being human, I had NO IDEA WHAT TO DO and spent the rest of the dream trying to deposit them somewhere safely. They were really dang large, and they never stopped trying to get loose and seek their fortunes elsewhere.

If I had been myself in the dream, I would have known to LET THEM GO. Eels certainly know what they are doing and how to get where they need to go WITHOUT HUMAN ASSISTANCE.

Humans go on and on about how smart they are, but whenever I dream that I still am one, I go all STUPID.

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The book came out in 2009 or so originally, but JUST HIT THE PAPERBACK STANDS. The author is Robert Graysmith, the publisher is Berkley True Crime, and the page count is 374, counting the index.

WHAT CRACKS ME UP is the way Graysmith pits clear-eyed, long-suffering human cops against criminals, and constantly describes those criminals in simian terms -- this one had unnaturally long arms, like a Gorilla's. That one had no visible neck, like an unimproved ape's. A third had short legs and a big, hulking torso that reminded onlookers of an Orangutan.
The ones depicted as humans are out busting crime. The ones compared to apes are out cracking safes, strangling unarmed women and slashing strangers to death with straight razors.


Let me fill you in, there, Bob: EVERY CHARACTER IN THE BOOK IS AN APE.


Does he really think there is some identifiable difference between a human who commits crimes and a human who solves them? I THINK HE REALLY DOES. The joke is on him: YOU ALL LOOK ALIKE TO US, MR. GRAYSMITH.
At one point he quotes someone's scholarly book on Gorillas, saying that Gorllas make about 30 different sounds, but laughter is not in their repetoire. OH YES, THEY DO LAUGH, MR. GRAYSMITH. THEY ARE LAUGHING AT YOU.
(And I am laughing, too, with my squamous, water-breathing friends.)

READ THIS ONE, LADIES. It's QUITE AN EDUCATION on the PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS among the Shaved Monkeys. Maybe it will help you new recruits understand why we want to TURN THEM ALL INTO FISH.

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