I'm really intrigued as to how many people actually stumble across this blog while clicking "next blog"
is it loadsa people?
or are blogs lost amongst the multitude?
Please add a comment just to say hi, and to let me see how many of you are out there, blogsurfing :)
Rob
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
SoberBlog
OK, so I'm sober now, and do I still think the same as i did in my DrunkenBlog a couple of posts down?
Yep :)
I'm throwing this out for comment, these are some thoughts, and I'm open and willing to revise my ideas, but it makes for interesting debate.
In my humble and not much read opinion we seem to be in denial of our roots as a species.
In fact, most of the worlds major civilisations only realy started to grow and advance after around 1200 BC
So we live in a world with a 40,000 year old species, that has a 2oo million year old family tree, that has decided that they are not animals but civilised humans, in the last 3000 years.
And we expect that decision to change us, in evolutionary terms.
we expect it to remove impulses as old as the species, rage, lust, envy, hate, fear, even joy in some societies.
We condition our children not to hate, because it is bad, or fear, because it shows weakness, not to lust for it is evil, and that rage is harmful, we condition them in many ways that they are not animals "you're behaving like an animal". But we are animals, and these are survival traits that have been with us, and within us forever.
And now that policing is better, and the chances of getting caught higher we are starting to see that these traits cannon be removed.
Crime and violence are not on the rise in many civilised countries, we just detect it better now, crime and violence are inherent in us as humans, we are a violent species, why do you think we are fast becoming the only one left.
It's just that thousands of years ago acts of violence weren't deemed wrong, violence was a part of life, and crime too, survival of the fittest, steal, kill, eat, reproduce, survive.
And now we deem them as wrong, we try to suppress our natural instincts, and to build a better society, but is it possible, are we that strong.
And should we even try?
Edit:
A Really rather good reply to my theory, by Memphis Man
Yep :)
I'm throwing this out for comment, these are some thoughts, and I'm open and willing to revise my ideas, but it makes for interesting debate.
In my humble and not much read opinion we seem to be in denial of our roots as a species.
Primates, the species from which we evolve, have been on earth for over 200 million years
The earliest known toolbearing man, Homo Habilis was around about 2 million years ago
Homo sapiens, our species, have been here 40,000 years or more
Yet back in 5000 BC, a stones throw away in evolutionary terms, we were still hunter gatherers. the occasional small village existed, but no cities, no civilisation, no laws as such, other than survival of the fittest.In fact, most of the worlds major civilisations only realy started to grow and advance after around 1200 BC
So we live in a world with a 40,000 year old species, that has a 2oo million year old family tree, that has decided that they are not animals but civilised humans, in the last 3000 years.
And we expect that decision to change us, in evolutionary terms.
we expect it to remove impulses as old as the species, rage, lust, envy, hate, fear, even joy in some societies.
We condition our children not to hate, because it is bad, or fear, because it shows weakness, not to lust for it is evil, and that rage is harmful, we condition them in many ways that they are not animals "you're behaving like an animal". But we are animals, and these are survival traits that have been with us, and within us forever.
And now that policing is better, and the chances of getting caught higher we are starting to see that these traits cannon be removed.
Crime and violence are not on the rise in many civilised countries, we just detect it better now, crime and violence are inherent in us as humans, we are a violent species, why do you think we are fast becoming the only one left.
It's just that thousands of years ago acts of violence weren't deemed wrong, violence was a part of life, and crime too, survival of the fittest, steal, kill, eat, reproduce, survive.
And now we deem them as wrong, we try to suppress our natural instincts, and to build a better society, but is it possible, are we that strong.
And should we even try?
Edit:
A Really rather good reply to my theory, by Memphis Man
Monday, April 18, 2005
Nine Inch Nails
Nine Inch Nails new single "The hand that feeds" is currently getting a lot of stick for being the Trent Reznor Sell Out Single, well, I've listened to NIN since Pretty hate machine and I love it :)
Commercial rock / pop is always something that Trent has flirted with, many's the time that a really catchy NIN tune has been thwarted from chart success at the last minute by a plethora of swearwords or a violently grating dischord.
So what if one slipped through the net, it was the catchy tune just waiting for a chance to escape :)
Trent, congratulations on the one that got away...
Commercial rock / pop is always something that Trent has flirted with, many's the time that a really catchy NIN tune has been thwarted from chart success at the last minute by a plethora of swearwords or a violently grating dischord.
So what if one slipped through the net, it was the catchy tune just waiting for a chance to escape :)
Trent, congratulations on the one that got away...
DrunkenBlog
So third blog...
5 bottles of stella later, and I'm compelled to ask,
Are we really more than just animals pretending to be civil.
I mean, let's take a long hard look at our ancestry...
Do we really think that we are alone on the earth in some mystical chosen role, as the only species that has transcended the animal kingdom?
Or are we just really clever animals who are pretending to be civilised "human beings"?
When it really comes down to the line, in your darkest thoughts, the ones that you won't even admit to yourself, are you some higher species, or are you just an animal?
Is crime really an abberation, violence, vandalism, social disorder.
Or are these the symptoms of trying to force a bunch of animals to behave in a way that they just weren't programmed to behave.
5 bottles of stella later, and I'm compelled to ask,
Are we really more than just animals pretending to be civil.
I mean, let's take a long hard look at our ancestry...
Do we really think that we are alone on the earth in some mystical chosen role, as the only species that has transcended the animal kingdom?
Or are we just really clever animals who are pretending to be civilised "human beings"?
When it really comes down to the line, in your darkest thoughts, the ones that you won't even admit to yourself, are you some higher species, or are you just an animal?
Is crime really an abberation, violence, vandalism, social disorder.
Or are these the symptoms of trying to force a bunch of animals to behave in a way that they just weren't programmed to behave.
Story Time
An old short story of mine for you, enjoy :)
The Gazebo
There was a tribe I visited once, on my travels. I forget where they lived, the Amazon I think, anyway, their village was dominated by trees, they lived in hollowed out gnarled trunks, their sky was a green canopy of leaves, but everywhere were paintings and pictures of sunsets, sunrises, and clouds.
The nearest clearing was probably over a hundred miles away, so I asked the elder where the pictures came from.
The elder took me through the undergrowth to a very strange clearing, there were fewer trees here, but still the sky was the green of a million leaves. In the middle of the clearing was a very strange tree (or so I thought) it’s four thin parallel trunks stretched up through the leaves above, almost geometrical branches in weird patterns, linked the trunks. And the tree was obviously very old, so covered in creepers it was.
“it’s beautiful” I said, admiring this strange specimen, at this the elder burst into a fit of deep, booming laughter, and as he lead me to the many steps, he told me a story. A story that ended when we reached the top, and I saw the most incredible sight I have ever seen in my entire life.
One normal day in the village a man woke up. He sat bolt upright in his bed, and let out a great cry
“GAAAZEEEBOOOOOO”
The village fairly shook with his cry, and soon the elders of the tribe were gathered around his trunk, questioning him deeply.
It transpired, that he had been visited by Timor, the tribes god of the sky, and had been instructed to build a strange monument for the villagers, a monument by which they were to worship the sky.
The elders were excited, visions such as this were rare, and the instructions the young man had revealed were very explicit.
The young man had been instructed to build the “Gazebo”, in a clearing some 500 meters from the village, he enlisted the help of most of the rest of the village, and work commenced immediately. 4 of the tallest trees in the vicinity were found, and after an elaborate 3 day blessing, chopped down. Over the period of the next month these trees were raised in the centre of the clearing in a relatively small square. As the work continued food began to deplete in the village, and certain people were taken off the project to gather berries, and hunt wild boar.
Next work began at the base of the trees, securing and building platforms, during this time a neighbouring tribe realised that the majority of the time the village was vacant, and took to raiding the village more and more frequently. About half the workforce was removed, to guard the village from such raids.
Next, steps were constructed leading up the inside of the gazebo, and more platforms were created, though it seemed that each step placed saw the loss of a worker, either to injury, or necessity. By the time the steps reached halfway up the gazebo, only the inspired original tribsman remained, he now laboured alone to complete the monument.
Months passed, steps were placed, people forgot, the elders now talked of new wonders, a magical stone had been found, and Timor, the Gazebo, the lone tribesman, paled into comparison… the stone was blue.
But yet he worked, never lagging, sleeping on steps, eating grubs, and dreaming of the sky.
If anyone had visited they would have seen him climb ever closer to that green canopy, day by day, step by step, and they would have seen him stop, exactly a year after his vision, and pluck a leaf, a green leaf from that canopy, with tears in his eyes.
Then they would have seen him place more steps, slowly disappearing into the trees.
3 months later they would have seen him appear again, and slowly walk down the steps, a stunned look of wonder on his face, his ravaged, thin sunburnt body barely able to support him, they would have seen him walk from the clearing, towards the village.
They did see him approach, mistaking him for a stranger, all guarded looks and aggressive actions, until he collapsed some feet from his hut.
he awoke in a small trunk, one of the village girls by his side, the village elders huddled around the doorway.
“It’s beautiful” they said, the girl and the elders almost in unison.
He smiled “the gazebo?”
They nodded.
The village was transformed. The gazebo had changed their lives, they could worship the sky, and the gods were pleased, everyone was so happy. As he walked through the village people applauded him as a hero, “It’s beautiful,” they cried “so beautiful”. He could hardly speak, so choked with emotion he was. The impact it had had on their lives was so obvious, he had seen the sky too, and he knew exactly how they felt. Nothing else could affect people like this. Such powerful wonders nature held.
He walked towards the clearing, the villagers followed him, yet as he came through towards the gazebo, the villagers formed a circle, around it, their backs pressed up against the trees at the very edge of the clearing, at first he was puzzled by this, but then he realised that they were letting him walk to the sky on his own, he supposed as a kind of gesture of thanks..
He placed his foot on the first step..
The villagers all started to murmur.
He placed his other foot on the second step..
The murmuring grew to a concerned chatter.
As he placed his foot on the third step the elder cried out to him, and rushed across the clearing.
“Wait, Wait”
As the elder reached him both men looked puzzled
”What is the matter”, asked the tribesman
“Where are you going?” asked the elder in obvious distress.
The elder took the tribesman by the hand and lead him off the steps and back across the clearing, pressing his back against one of the trees he stared up at the gazebo.
“I think you’ll find you can see it best from here, look….” The elder pointed at the Gazebo “It’s Beautiful”
The Gazebo
There was a tribe I visited once, on my travels. I forget where they lived, the Amazon I think, anyway, their village was dominated by trees, they lived in hollowed out gnarled trunks, their sky was a green canopy of leaves, but everywhere were paintings and pictures of sunsets, sunrises, and clouds.
The nearest clearing was probably over a hundred miles away, so I asked the elder where the pictures came from.
The elder took me through the undergrowth to a very strange clearing, there were fewer trees here, but still the sky was the green of a million leaves. In the middle of the clearing was a very strange tree (or so I thought) it’s four thin parallel trunks stretched up through the leaves above, almost geometrical branches in weird patterns, linked the trunks. And the tree was obviously very old, so covered in creepers it was.
“it’s beautiful” I said, admiring this strange specimen, at this the elder burst into a fit of deep, booming laughter, and as he lead me to the many steps, he told me a story. A story that ended when we reached the top, and I saw the most incredible sight I have ever seen in my entire life.
One normal day in the village a man woke up. He sat bolt upright in his bed, and let out a great cry
“GAAAZEEEBOOOOOO”
The village fairly shook with his cry, and soon the elders of the tribe were gathered around his trunk, questioning him deeply.
It transpired, that he had been visited by Timor, the tribes god of the sky, and had been instructed to build a strange monument for the villagers, a monument by which they were to worship the sky.
The elders were excited, visions such as this were rare, and the instructions the young man had revealed were very explicit.
The young man had been instructed to build the “Gazebo”, in a clearing some 500 meters from the village, he enlisted the help of most of the rest of the village, and work commenced immediately. 4 of the tallest trees in the vicinity were found, and after an elaborate 3 day blessing, chopped down. Over the period of the next month these trees were raised in the centre of the clearing in a relatively small square. As the work continued food began to deplete in the village, and certain people were taken off the project to gather berries, and hunt wild boar.
Next work began at the base of the trees, securing and building platforms, during this time a neighbouring tribe realised that the majority of the time the village was vacant, and took to raiding the village more and more frequently. About half the workforce was removed, to guard the village from such raids.
Next, steps were constructed leading up the inside of the gazebo, and more platforms were created, though it seemed that each step placed saw the loss of a worker, either to injury, or necessity. By the time the steps reached halfway up the gazebo, only the inspired original tribsman remained, he now laboured alone to complete the monument.
Months passed, steps were placed, people forgot, the elders now talked of new wonders, a magical stone had been found, and Timor, the Gazebo, the lone tribesman, paled into comparison… the stone was blue.
But yet he worked, never lagging, sleeping on steps, eating grubs, and dreaming of the sky.
If anyone had visited they would have seen him climb ever closer to that green canopy, day by day, step by step, and they would have seen him stop, exactly a year after his vision, and pluck a leaf, a green leaf from that canopy, with tears in his eyes.
Then they would have seen him place more steps, slowly disappearing into the trees.
3 months later they would have seen him appear again, and slowly walk down the steps, a stunned look of wonder on his face, his ravaged, thin sunburnt body barely able to support him, they would have seen him walk from the clearing, towards the village.
They did see him approach, mistaking him for a stranger, all guarded looks and aggressive actions, until he collapsed some feet from his hut.
he awoke in a small trunk, one of the village girls by his side, the village elders huddled around the doorway.
“It’s beautiful” they said, the girl and the elders almost in unison.
He smiled “the gazebo?”
They nodded.
The village was transformed. The gazebo had changed their lives, they could worship the sky, and the gods were pleased, everyone was so happy. As he walked through the village people applauded him as a hero, “It’s beautiful,” they cried “so beautiful”. He could hardly speak, so choked with emotion he was. The impact it had had on their lives was so obvious, he had seen the sky too, and he knew exactly how they felt. Nothing else could affect people like this. Such powerful wonders nature held.
He walked towards the clearing, the villagers followed him, yet as he came through towards the gazebo, the villagers formed a circle, around it, their backs pressed up against the trees at the very edge of the clearing, at first he was puzzled by this, but then he realised that they were letting him walk to the sky on his own, he supposed as a kind of gesture of thanks..
He placed his foot on the first step..
The villagers all started to murmur.
He placed his other foot on the second step..
The murmuring grew to a concerned chatter.
As he placed his foot on the third step the elder cried out to him, and rushed across the clearing.
“Wait, Wait”
As the elder reached him both men looked puzzled
”What is the matter”, asked the tribesman
“Where are you going?” asked the elder in obvious distress.
The elder took the tribesman by the hand and lead him off the steps and back across the clearing, pressing his back against one of the trees he stared up at the gazebo.
“I think you’ll find you can see it best from here, look….” The elder pointed at the Gazebo “It’s Beautiful”
Sunday, April 17, 2005
beginningblog
well, my first blog...
hi everyone, or more likley noone...
Started writing my first sci fi short story today, been researching it for a couple of weeks, tho the ideas behind it have been in my head for years, so we'll see how that goes.
I'll post some of it up maybe, and I'll assume no feedback is good feedback ;-)
Currently Listning to NIN the hand that feeds
Currently reading Hard Sci Fi Renaissance Anthology
Currently watching Hustle on BBC1
Currently playing Darwinia Demo
will have a proper ramble later on, but for now, bye bye
hi everyone, or more likley noone...
Started writing my first sci fi short story today, been researching it for a couple of weeks, tho the ideas behind it have been in my head for years, so we'll see how that goes.
I'll post some of it up maybe, and I'll assume no feedback is good feedback ;-)
Currently Listning to NIN the hand that feeds
Currently reading Hard Sci Fi Renaissance Anthology
Currently watching Hustle on BBC1
Currently playing Darwinia Demo
will have a proper ramble later on, but for now, bye bye
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