Troglodyte

Nothing has really changed. Sure, we speak with sophistication, wear finely woven fabrics and adorn our feet with coverings to enhance or protect. We are able to keep ourselves out of uncomfortable circumstances for the most part. We adjust the way we smell to make close proximity less revolting, or to possibly attract a mate.

All this is true. We are an advanced species. But it’s a matter of degree, not of substance.

In spite of how highly we think of ourselves, we are still, each and every one, animals. We scratch about on the face of the Earth just like every other animate being. We are driven by the same over-arching forces of our inner nature, just like every other species.

We breathe the same air, drink the same water, endure the same sun. We die the same death.

We kill to eat. Every single one of us kills to eat. No matter where you live, no matter how magnificent your abode, you can’t escape the fact that something died so you could stuff it in your face three times a day.

We are consumed by the drive to procreate. We go to great lengths to prove our virility and scatter our seed. We must be seen as strong. We must be desirable. We must, we must, we must sweat and rub and touch. It is a fundamental imperative. Just like every other species, it is a central driving factor in all we do.

We are selfish, self-centered, devious and deceptive. It is required we be those things in order to survive. This is no different than any other living organism on this planet. We are no different.

We wish we were. We want to be different so badly that we’ll ignore what is real and grasp any tolerable fantasy instead. We will embrace a ridiculous explanation if it fits with what we want to believe. We want to be special. We want to see ourselves as superior to the worm and hyena.

We want to be exempted from the finality of death. We seem to be banking on it. We raze a planet and yet somehow expect that, at the last minute, something is going to save us from our foolishness. Too bad about all the other species. That’s what they get for not being homo-sapiens. “Wise man.” That’s what we call ourselves.

It’s a matter of degree, not of substance. Any really sapient homo can see that.

So here is a thing that doesn’t work. Here is a thing that will break us and all the life around us. Here is our arrogance in tangible form. Here is the lie we tell ourselves. “We are not Troglodytes.”

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