Simian Disco

Here's what I did: I searched everywhere. I went on beyond all reasonable limits of common sense. I searched under every rock. I peeked into every cranny. I explored all the nooks. And here's what I came up with:

We are one crazy bunch of monkeys.

This may not seem like a profound truth to those of you familiar with the basic facts of biology. This was, however, a source of endless amusement to me this evening, as I maneuvered myself through a variable set of scenarios in which my completely arbitrary standing towards other monkeys in my immediate surroundings thoroughly dictated the way I was able to communicate with them.

If there's anything homo sapiens will be remembered for in the trackless depths of Time Itself, I suspect it will be our monumental capacity to build walls around ourselves. The lengths to which we go to craft shells which carefully describe exactly what we want the other monkeys to see will, I suspect, continue to amaze me for as long as I live. I vividly recall a particular moment tonight where I was completely overcome by the silliness of it all; this fantastic congregation of simians, all gathered for no greater purpose than to gawp at each others' flashy clothing and confirm the "individuality" of every monkey present, as if there was a greater meaning to each ridiculous haircut or pink t-shirt or nose ring.

This is not to say that I consider myself excluded; to the contrary, I am as much a member of this monkey discotheque as the next guy. I carefully guard my image, I make reasonably sure my turf isn't trod upon, I litter my surroundings with artefacts designed to reinforce my sense of separateness from the next monkey, and I create things which - in my wildest imaginings - are destined to set me apart, apart from all these god damn monkeys.

Every once in a while, in the process of doing so, I slip up and fall flat on my face.

I'm pretty sure this is where that whole humanity thing goes and happens.