chelydra

See writings (if still on internet) by Stan Gooch on the subject of Neanderthals. He was considered a crackpot for insisting all along that we have Neanderthal blood (southeast Europeans and southwest Asians especially). He attributed the cruelty and aggression of Nordic races to having too LITTLE Neanderthal blood in our veins, and trying to suppress what we have. (Hence obsessive dread of possession by dark alter egos, as in werewolves, Jeckyll/Hyde, etc.) Neanderthals had huge brains but arranged differently — more dreamy and spaced-out and benign.

giraffe

Interesting topic Doug and Chelydra. Let's fight about it. I get on political blogs sometimes and at least half of the folks have no intention of listening or compromising. Just ranting. I blow off steam sometimes, but get over it. I wish we could evolve to a more peaceful human race, but it seems to just get worse.

In nature, animals don't fight to the death with their own species unless they're in extremely overcrowded conditions. Overpopulation maybe?

Qsilv

Emotions... we like feeling them, pay money for books and movies that stir them.

It takes some careful balancing to avoid either extreme -- too bottled up vs too out of control -- to raise kids who feel better about taking the time to appraise reality pretty fully and channel their energy with a view to the long term.

giraffe

Che. Stan Gooch - wow. Freud, Jung, Neitche, paranormal research et al. I'd love to be in his mind for an hour. Do you recommend a specific book of his?

giraffe

Qsilv. That's the only solution.

chelydra

http://www.aulis.com/twothirds7.htm

Above is excerpts from one of his books, City of Dreams. The only one I've read (in full), by far the best book I ever read, was given the unfortunate title 'Total Man' - came out in 1974, and sold pretty well, but had no impact and the author got increasingly disgusted as subsequent books sold less well and were ignored or dismissed as crackpot nonsense. Gooch finally stopped all writing & became a hermit in a Welsh trailer park with no phone. I keep thinking I should hitchhike over there for a visit.

chelydra

Qsliv should write an illustrated book of aphorisms, no?

giraffe

Chelydra. Thanks for that. I wonder if Cro and Neandra were Adam and Eve. I want to check out his take on paranormal research. This guy's a trip. Off to the library.

Doug

giraffe: In response to your comment about animals not fighting to the death unless overcrowded....I think that's called "survival of the fittest" and lends more towards keeping a particular population flourishing and getting rid of inferior ones. Hmmmmmm. Seems like "war" if you really break it down to root causes becomes a "survival of the fittest" mentality.

( 4 hours till the house closing)....I think I'll take a nap.

Dragon

Only problem with that thought Doug is that it's typically the fittest (ei: soldiers) who end up getting killed in wars leaving the old, weak and sick at home to survive them. (Unless, of course, the war is right in the homesteads)

giraffe

Hi, Dragon, wink.

And Doug, maybe you're talking about the "alpha male" thing where there can be only one Leader of the Pack. Wolves will fight for that, but when one rolls on its back, the fight is over. The loser becomes the Lone Wolf until he finds another pack. One gorilla killed another one in a London zoo, but they were cited for keeping them in an over-crowded environment. If you have 20 cats in one room, the mothers will often kill their own kittens. Too many birds in the same cage will attack each other. It's very rare in nature for an animal to kill one of its own species. Yet humans do it all the time. The emphasis on war causes many soldiers to come home and kill their families. I don't have the answer, but it sucks.

giraffe

Even us beauty pageant queens just scratch each others' eyes out. (trying to lighten up here).

mouse

Man is an enigma-- He simply, for all his knowledge , never learns from his mistakes. Each man ( and woman) wants to be top dog.

The chimpanzee ( another intelligent primate) will kill its own kind -- and we are closely related to them.

mrsjesus

I made up my word list.

Conundrum *
Opalescent *
Dirt *
Leather *
Philosophy *
Kaleidoscope *
Storm *
Cockroach *
Teaspoon *

A cockroach crawled across her as she reached to butter her toast. She shook her hand, throwing the roach and a smear of butter on the wall. The bug would live. The butter would leave a stain on the wall. Opal took a dirty dish rag from the sink and made a half hearted attempt to hide the mess, making it worse than if she'd done nothing.

Henry coughed loudly from the other room, hacking until his body shook, then running to the bathroom to heave into the toilet. From the day the sickness walked through their door and sat comfortably down, it had never left them. She walked to the kitchen, ran a glass of water from the tap, and stirred a teaspoon of baking soda into it.

She carried it to him smiling, remembering her mother's philosophy that baking soda could cure most things. The sun coming through the bathroom window cast an opalescent glow around her beautiful, blonde haired son, now cleaning his face with a towel.

"Drink this, honey" she said, handing it to him. He took a sip, exhaled, and looked into his mother's eyes. She gasped and had to abstain from any reaction as she returned his gaze. Henry was fifteen now and looking at her through weary eyes now set deeply into the weathered face of a much older man.

Her heart sank. It was worse. Putting her arm around the once strong shoulders of her son and leading him to a chair, she could feel his back bones now. He'd been on the Honor Roll and a guard on his school's basketball team before this. He would no longer walk to the free throw line and shoot the winning basket. Now he would never even shoot a hoop from the patch of dirt he'd worn into his parent's backyard.

She gently helped him into a huge leather chair in the living room, an eyesore and an unwelcome reminder of his father, but new furniture wasn't an option for her. She kissed him on the top of the head, then sat on the sofa facing him. Henry reached out and took her hand in his. "It won't be much longer, Mom".

All the medications, tests, and treatments hadn't worked. She'd watched him lose weight over the last year. He'd once carried his well toned body with the confidence of a young man destined for a bright future. He now relied on his mother to help him clean himself.
"I need to lie down", he said. Opal took a blanket from the back of the sofa and covered her son for the last time. The rain storm predicted on the local news was starting to light up the horizon, painting the landscape in a kaleidoscope of possibilites. None of which were open to them.

She knelt beside her son, brushing what hair was left in his once beautiful mane with her hand. She sat for what felt like a lifetime as she watched him slip away from her. When the rising and falling of his chest became slower, then slower, she was in a conundrum. One more dose?

He was in pain and she knew that one more dose was just that. One more dose that didn't take the pain away anymore. Not for him and not for her. She kissed his cheek, giving him pats on the back... the same way she'd done years ago when he was her little boy. It had always calmed him and made him feel safe to know that someone was there to watch over him. He drifted off as he'd always done.

spam

mrsjesus thank you - that was so beautiful and heart wrenching.

Doug

mrsjesus: A very strong emotional story, very well written and always welcome here at ThinkWrite. I'd like to see what you could do with this ThinkWrites' word list, but your submissions are always welcome.

Qsilv

mrsjesus - there's a real gift operating in there... in particular I'm struck by your way of introducing squalor at the very beginning, rather than introducing it later for tawdry shock increments. The increments instead are a kind of spiraling upward and outward... from a teaspoon and a bug and a smear... into an awareness... of love... opalescent light... deeper sacrifice... ever stronger respect...

giraffe

I agree, MrsJ. I'd like to see what you'd do with the current word list.

chelydra

ouch

giraffe

318 w/o title. I wanted to try a 'dialog only'

THE TRIAL (Big wink to Franz Kafka)

"Objection, your Honor, I must contest this witness' claim. It has never been proven that assault and battery was ever even committed."

"That's not even what your client is on trial for. Overruled."

"Can you at least tell us what the charges are?"

" No, and your constant badgering about this may land you in contempt. Continue D.A, Quixmickle."

"Thanks, your Honor. Miss Boopie, do you personally know the accused?"

"No Sir."

"Have you ever seen him before?"

"No Sir."

"Your Honor, I believe this proves the guilt of the defendant."

"I somewhat agree, but defense has a right to cross-examine."

"Do they really have a right to do that?"

"No, but I'm making an exception. Mr. Percy you may question the witness."

"Thank you. Miss Boopie, do you recall the incident?"

"No. It was too quiet and peaceful to remember."

"Then you have no complaint against the accused?"

"Oh yes I do! Look at his lower lip and nose. He's definitely guilty!"

"I've heard enough. It's simple to see that the defendant is guilty. I'll issue sentencing tomorrow at 9AM. Between now and then, I recommend that the accused think strongly about his guilt."

"But, your Honor, he's never been informed of the charges."

"Miss Boopie's testamony is enough. Court adjoured."

"Man, I did my best for you. That Quixmicke is a smart cookie. Sorry, but we can still appeal."

"What the hell did I do?"

"They never tell us that. We just hope for the best tomorrow."

"How much time am I looking at?"

"Quixmickle's talking 20 years to life. Don't turn purple now. He could possibly go for the death penalty or ejection into the stratosphere. Just plead for his mercy and take what you get humbly."

"I didn't do anything! Get your hands off of me! I'm not going back to that cell."

"The defendant is sentenced to 35 years of hard labor. Case closed. Next.