“We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them”.
THE MEANING OF LIFE
Despite Albert’s glib grasp of linguistics etc, the subject of Petlove and Spirituality keeps coming up. So, I shall make some tentative steps in that direction.
If you were a naturalist, something like E.T., or perhaps someone who studies creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water, you would not get too far into your studies before the topic of reproduction came up. It wouldn’t matter which living creature you chose to study, they all reproduce, or they wouldn’t be around to be studied. Elsewise, you would be an archeologist and basically guessing. That is a different story.
As a naturalist, you would be looking at things alive, now. And you would be balls deep in a creatures reproductive processes very quickly. Why? Because it’s what creatures do. They eat, they shit, they reproduce.
Some creatures don’t even eat, such as the adult mayfly, or salmon. They just fuck, then die. The poor male Praying Mantis is cool with a Lady eating his head, provided the pussy is good. Marijuana plants produce offspring, then die. Our synaptic cousins, the Cuttlefish do too, among others. That is to say, once we have reproduced, the job appears to be done. This sex business, then, would seem to be quite important, in the biological scheme of things. The natural scheme of things.
Further to that – you may argue that sex is the most interesting aspect of most life forms. It’s where life brings it’s A Game. Everything every creature does generally revolves around reproduction. It’s the defining moment of a life form, to reproduce itself and continue itself into the future, on to that “house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams“. Sex is the gateway to the future, for all forms of life.
Sex is responsible for the rainbow colors on a peacock’s tailfeather; the outlandish antlers on a stag. Without sex, a rose bush is just a mess of thorns and leaves. There would be no flowers, no fruit. No orchid bee. No courtship dance of the eagle. I could fill several pages with the sexy magnificence of the myriad life forms, but you get the idea.
For most life forms, sex is the highlight of each year. It’s when creatures are their most spectacular and innovative. Sex is the celebration of life, it is the one thing that unites us all – all people, all life forms. It is the march of Gaia, robustly fucking itself into the future. The very thread of life.
“Oh there are more important things in life than sex Adam“.
Do you know who invented sliced bread? I didn’t think so. We can imagine a situation where our life achievements had some meaning, that the things we do in life serve some greater purpose. Still, no matter how major our triumphs, it is only a matter of time before we are forgotten. All these achievements are for naught if there is no-one to pass this information on to. In short, there can be no legacy without some fuckery, somewhere, somehow.
Sex, it seems, is the Prime Directive. (You might imagine a dog would take food over sex, but tested – pizza here, or pussy there, the pussy won). It would appear to be the thing around which all other things orbit, or gravitate towards. In the natural order of things, then, our purpose would appear to be bridging the gap between the previous, and the next generations.
What does any of this have to do with anything? Just read the thing already.
Let’s give you a job. You are the person responsible for tending to the aforementioned peacocks. For want of a better word, we’ll call you The Shepherd. It is your job to tend to the peafowl, to create an perfect environment within which your muster can flourish.
You’ve figured out what they like to eat, and drink. You’ve built them a safe desirable roost outside (as opposed to the bedroom where they kept knocking over your Star Wars figures). So far, so good.
Unfortunately, you are mad and have a phobia of things sexual. You see that the male peacock is dancing for the Ladies, which oftentimes results in peacock sex and we can’t be having any of that now can we. So, to curb this type of behavior, you decide to clip all the beautiful feathers off of the males, so nobody wants to fuck them.
Problem solved, no more funny business.
Roll on a few years, no peacocks fucking, no new peacocks. And when the fox takes the last of your peafowl, you are out of a job. Nobody is complaining, because peacocks without their tailfeathers weren’t very interesting anyway.
It’s a ridiculous scenario I’ll grant you. But I wonder, do we think this was a good Shepherd? Tasked with the care and consideration of the peacock, it was a pretty poor effort. When the time came that I needed a Shepherd to tend to my peacocks, sorry to say you would most likely not be on the shortlist.
Not so long ago, sex was a dangerous business. If you were a Lady, you might get pregnant. Which carried (carries) a high risk of fatality. You might pop your penis into a Lady to find your face melting off shortly thereafter. You may find you have things growing out of places you didn’t have before.
If you managed to get past the act itself, unscathed, you then have more people. What’s with all the new people? Where will they go? Should I care?
None of which is an issue, if you just stop having sex. Easy. Back then, we were even more stupid than we are now. Yes I know it’s hard to believe.
Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity;
and I’m not sure about the universe.
And none more stupid than me for imagining for a moment you are actually taking this in.
Sex was bad I get it. Controlling that arena would remove a huge pile of problems from an otherwise busy schedule. You might have Vikings coming from one direction, Ninjas from another. Lions tigers and bears.
But things have changed a bit since then. We have penicillin, we have the pill, etc. It took a while, we had a few things to sort out along the way. Plagues, witches. But we are here now. And, save certain scientists cooking up horrors to spoil the fun, I would like to think that the bedroom is a problem contained. And, therefore, no longer a problem.
I read that someone exchanged a laptop for some jewels, with a native Tribe Leader. Relatively, it’s a fair deal since the Tribe Leader has plenty of jewels but nobody in His or any nearby Tribe has a thing like this laptop. They have no electricity or internet of course. The Tribe Leader uses it to open nuts. Did you know, Cornflakes were invented as a means to prevent kids fapping? The idea was to stuff pillows etc. with Cornflakes such that you would hear if someone started rummaging around. Look it up.
That idea didn’t quite take off, mind, can’t think why. So Mr. No-Fun Cornflakes left with a bunch of sacks of Cornflakes, I guess gives them a taste. The rest is history. I don’t remember all the details, but I understand car oil was once a by-product of something and they had no use for it. Didn’t know what to do with all this glup. They know what to do with it now, mind. And how to get it. Point is – there appears to be a perfect use for a thing. Often, multiple perfect uses for things. Nature is interesting that way, things connect in all kinds of unimaginable ways.
I was always of the opinion, that the society we are presented with – the rules, restrictions – the clipping of tailfeathers – ultimately led to a situation where, in the laptop/nutcracker analogy – that man was the laptop and life was the nut. Improper use of the thing. Top to bottom. That the full potential of this thing was sitting, waiting to be uncovered by Indie. So, Gaia was born, and we have been busy digging ever since. All of us. Shortly, it will be time to show you some of the things we’ve found along the way. Some things might surprise you. Some might scare you. Some might make you go Oh My Glob. We’ll see. What starts bitter, ends sweet, like the RockNRolla.
Ancient Rome, one of the most organizing and constructive civilizations ever, was based around an entire sexual freedom. None of this nancy oh it’s dirty nonsense. They knew. The Atlanteans were, apparently, well up for it. Advanced civilizations all. There’s more to say on all this, but there are movies and updates to do. For now, just know that all you Gaianauts, you are the Tomorrow People. Maybe not this tomorrow. But a tomorrow soon. Soon, I hope you will live in a world that fits you as a person, instead of you fitting into a box designed by someone else, who wants to use you to crack open nuts. Life is a dance, and ups and downs aside, I have thoroughly enjoyed our dances together, and hope for many more to come. Tomorrow, people…
“Dance, then, wherever you may be.
I am the Lord of the Dance, said he…“