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BrodeCo's Journal: Hey Bulldog

Journal by BrodeCo

I'm sitting in a vat of self-drugged Rhesus monkeys. Each more alike than the last. We are all covered with fleas, scratching and pawing at one another, and tribes begin to form. Over the years, our tribes spread further and further out-- we get better and better at killing one another, and slowly stand upright. My friends' heads seem to be bulging with the passing centuries.

We think that someone built this vat for us, but that could easily be a cultural (and/or genetic) myth. Maybe we're just in this monkey vat. Water spawns life, and we live on the wettest planet in our star system. Why can't anybody here relax for more than a few hours at a time (without expensive and damaging drugs, that is?) I believe that the major source of stress in this life of ours is leftover survival & reproduction instincts which we have concatenated into something called "Civilization", which I believe is a myth on the level of the homo sapien (sapien) "Subconscious Mind" fairy tale.

Walk with me down the beach. Observe the alpha males and other desirable (for various social and physical reasons, hence "semi-evolved" [and who would have their species any other way?]) mates.

Grr. Here goes my huge Human Brain again, destroying my ability to relax. These lumps of nerve clusters between your ears are usually friendly invaders, but from time to time even the most sane among us wishes for a bit of ignorance. Alcohol and other dangerous drugs are a short term fix, but what about 10 years from now, when Terra's population is at 12 Billion? What next, fellow fools? Let's all look the other way as the train steams rapidly toward us. Each of us standing on the track for a unique and childhood-related reason.

More to follow... or skate on past Indymedia IRC, which is where you can stalk me in #seattle or #tech. Thanks for being the Chief, you putz.

The most delightful day after the one on which you buy a cottage in the country is the one on which you resell it. -- J. Brecheux

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