Our Simian Nature

Falling through the universe at the speed of life

By David Glenn Cox

And on the last day of the world, the humans will congregate with their hammers and clubs and heavy stones. Then they will smash the machines to bits which could have saved them. Our simian nature betrays us, to get us all excited as a pack and to make a lot of noise and act like their tough, when they’re scared.

But it comes from a fundamental political misunderstanding, some people foolishly believe in the Republican Party, without having six figure income or millions in the bank. I’m no fool if it were me? I’m a shady enough character to say fuck the environment, save my precious money! “Yeah Republicans!” If you need me, I’ll be in the Bahamas. If you’re affluent, why would you want to vote for the Party spending money (at Home)? Squandering it on public schools, fire departments or highways.

With two separate visions of America. One of the rugged individuals who believe that with enough hard work, clean living and your trust fund. You can work your way to the top. On the other hand, are the people who just have to live here.

Jimmy Stewart’s the people doing most of the living and the dying in this crummy little one-horse town. The people with kids who can’t afford a private school. The people with not enough money and so correspondingly, not enough life. People who want public parks, because they don’t have a nanny to take the kid to Chucky Cheese, every time the kid gets bored.

I asked my mother once, if I could go to summer camp. She answered, “Sure, it’s right outside that back door. Swimming and hiking. Bike riding and sports, all kinds of new adventures.” Middle-class summer camp

When I was small and the Civil Rights movement was large, I asked my mother about Martin Luther King. As a child, I didn’t understand all the commotion. My mother said something which has always stayed with me when she said, “The same people who don’t like him, don’t like YOU either.” It’s pretty easy from that point on to pick a side. My long line of Irish lineage with its practice of Papistry had earned me the undying enmity of grown men, at the age of seven.  

From that point on, it would be intellectually dishonest to grow up to be anything but a Socialist Democrat.

“While there is a lower class, I am in it, while there is a criminal element, I am of it, and while there is a soul in prison, I am not free.”
― Eugene V. Debs

My favorite Socialist institution is the public Library. All men are created equal before the eyes of the Librarian. No Platinum memberships for early reading opportunities, for only $99 per year. But don’t wait, it comes with a coffee mug and this lovely tote bag. That bag that will someday find its way to closet or door handle and stay there forever.

No special deals, first come first serve. But that fundamental misunderstanding. There aren’t enough deservedly Republicans to win an election. So, what to do about that? You bang that swill stick just as  hard as you can against the side of that bucket, until you get the howlers up and howling.

But the first misunderstanding leads to a second misunderstanding of how libraries operate. Hardly ever, will you find yourself backed into a corner and threatened with physical violence by a Librarian, if you don’t read a particular book.

In all my trips to the library, I’ve always been the aggressor. I seek out books on subjects which interest me. The automobile was invented before books on automobiles were written, not the other way around. I don’t randomly find a Chilton’s repair manual on the shelf and exclaim! “Hey, with this book. Now I could work on my car!” You go to the library to find a book because you already have the desire to learn more about the subject, whatever that subject may be.

But the howlers are easy to rile, but difficult to keep riled. There is always a need for a new boogy man. You can run on, “Communists under the bed or Gays are trying to recruit your children on to it.” Everyday something new, for Twump it was Mexican immigration. For Ron DeSantis, it is LBGTQ as the enemy de jure in Florida. And it really get’s the howlers up on their feet nationally.

But Michigan deserves Honorable Mention, as one of the fast-rising crazy states, where they shoot the monsters on Maple Street. Look out Alabama; there’s new crazy kid in town! Move over Georgia, crazy is a franchise now and everyone is welcome. Watch out Mississippi, anyone can underfund schools and make “Dilapidated ” their state motto. “I’ll turn this whole state into the Dukes of Hazard! I swear I will!”

The Township of Jamestown, Michigan, (Pop. 8,600) recently voted to defund its public library. When I was a kid President Kennedy ordered the desegregation of all public facilities. The city of Montgomery, Alabama, closed its city pool and ordered it filled in. Cutting off their children’s noses to spite themselves. “Welcome to the club.”

A small group of Republicans doesn’t like certain books on the shelf in the library and neither do I. I’ve always said, the books that I like are the best and the rest of them are just trash. See how that works? This group of around fifty, organized a campaign to have the library defunded. Books on LBGTQ have really got their bustle buttons popping.

Because they believe, if a teenage girl finds a book on the library shelf. A book about a teenage girl who likes to kiss other teenage girls, coming to grips with her sexuality. That it will make an otherwise straight girl, wild with desire to kiss other girls. Abandoning heterosexuality forever, and heading off into a life of carnal sin.

A straight girl is not going to find much interest in a book about coming to grips with wanting to kiss girls, if she has no prior interest in coming to grips or a desire to kiss other girls. The kid goes to the library looking for the book, not the other way around. I suppose the Amish could band together and try and get the books on auto repair taken off the shelf. Political censorship, we don’t like it, we don’t believe in it, and therefore, we want them taken off the shelves.

When I was 13, my mother left a copy of “Everything You Ever Wanted Know About Sex but were afraid to ask” out on the coffee table. It must have been a whole ten or fifteen seconds after reading the title that I was up in my room and already on page seven. That’s the way we did it back at my house, a real intellectual group. My father was a Ward Cleaver type, who read the newspaper a lot. So, the book route was better off for both of us.

Now at 13, I was immediately interested in that book, at 11 I would have walked right past. Because I was already interested in sexuality at 13, sometimes several times a day. The book didn’t make me sexual; it answered my questions about being sexual. The book taught me things about my sexuality, but it didn’t steer my sexuality. There being many sexual peccadillos and persuasions that I read about at that young and tender age; I had no desire to attempt.

And on the last day of the world, the humans will congregate with their hammers and clubs and heavy stones. Then they will smash the machines to bits which could have saved them. Our simian nature betrays us, to get us all excited as a pack and to make a lot of noise and act like their tough, when they’re scared. Cutting off their noses to spite themselves and punishing their children for their natural curiosity.

Ironic, isn’t it? Those who most furiously don’t believe in evolution, do the most to prove the theory.

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