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Me First And The Gimmie Gimmies*

Posted on January 18, 2010 at 12:01 am

by Richard

When dads sit down around the campfire after a long day of herding little dudes and cleaning up after them, there’s a cautionary tale that gets told to the shivers of the listeners. It goes something like this.

There was a family with three little dudes and or dudettes. It doesn’t matter. The family was planning a vacation to somewhere warm, sandy and delightful. As they were doing the final pack up, they heard the news. At the resort, a bird who’s species is on the verge of extinction had flown into the engine of a fully loaded jet as it was coming in for a landing. The jet went down in a ball of flame, killing all on board as well as wiping out the resort and causing a fire that devastated the tiny island.

“Oh, how horrible,” said the mom.

“That’s just terrible,” said the dad as he began to unpack their suitcases.

The middle little dude looked on, aghast. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Wait,” he said. “Why are you unpacking? That doesn’t affect me, does it? Well, find something else.”

And the group around the campfire shivers, knowing the little dude just didn’t get it. All he worried about was whether or not he was going to get something. The dads hoped they were raising their little dudes to be better than that. They picked up their plates of beans and started a fart contest. Whatddya want? They’re dudes.

The problem is that little dude’s reaction wasn’t all that unusual. There’s little dudes all over the world that only care about something if it affects them, or how they want to do stuff. I may, just may, know this from personal experience. Maybe.

I’m not sure why this happens. I’m not sure how a little dude becomes so focused on himself that he sees the entire world through the lens of how it will affect him. I think, though, there are some ways to work with the non-functional-brained little dudes.

One way is the bait and switch. Offer the little dude something he or she really wants, or says he or she does, and then make it contingent on doing something nice for someone more than once. Or tell them they can’t have it. And then give it to them only after they’ve made an unprompted gesture of niceness toward another member of the family.

I think we need to make sure kids like these widen their perspective more than a little bit. Let themselves see the outside world has more to offer and needs more from the people living in it than what happens to them.

*not the band, although they’re awesome.

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Freaky Friday: Who’s That Girl?

Posted on January 15, 2010 at 12:01 am

by Richard

I’ve always been fascinated by the idea that humans, homo sapiens, were not alone on this planet and, oddly enough, it’s true. Over the past million years, we’ve shared the planet with any number of near humans, called hominids. You probably know about some, such as Neanderthals. They’re pretty popular and we see them as pretty dumb.

What you might now know about, though, is a hominid species called the Boskop, for the town in South Africa where the first bones were found in 1912. See, the thing about this hominid is that it was smarter than humans. Much, much smarter.

The scientific community of South Africa was small, and before long the skull came to the attention of S. H. Haughton, one of the country’s few formally trained paleontologists. He reported his findings at a 1915 meeting of the Royal Society of South Africa. “The cranial capacity must have been very large,” he said, and “calculation by the method of Broca gives a minimum figure of 1,832 cc [cubic centimeters].” The Boskop skull, it would seem, housed a brain perhaps 25 percent or more larger than our own.

In addition to the huge melon, it turns out the Boskop people had another distinguishing feature: They had faces significantly smaller than humans. Basically, it would be like if you took a little dude’s face and plastered it on a big dude’s head.

Hmmm. Why does that sound so very familiar? Small bodies, large heads, small faces. Hmmm.

The combination of a large cranium and immature face would look decidedly unusual to modern eyes, but not entirely unfamiliar. Such faces peer out from the covers of countless science fiction books and are often attached to “alien abductors” in movies. The naturalist Loren Eiseley made exactly this point in a lyrical and chilling passage from his popular book, The Immense Journey, describing a Boskop fossil:

“There’s just one thing we haven’t quite dared to mention. It’s this, and you won’t believe it. It’s all happened already. Back there in the past, ten thousand years ago. The man of the future, with the big brain, the small teeth. He lived in Africa. His brain was bigger than your brain. His face was straight and small, almost a child’s face.”

Yes, the Grays, little space aliens blamed for every surprise hemorrhoid in the rural south. Probing and all that, don’tcha know? Looks like we were visited by those little alien dudes, only they were natives of Earth and they went extinct thousands of years ago.

It’s a common misconception that evolution says we descended from apes. That’s not true. What it says is that both apes and men had, some time in the distant past, a common ancestor. Yet we humans keep seeing evolution as a process that consistently builds species better and better as they move forward toward the present, resulting in the pinacle of evolution: us. Humans.

Boskops argue otherwise. They say that humans with big brains, and perhaps great intelligence, occupied a substantial piece of southern Africa in the not very distant past, and that they eventually gave way to smaller-brained, possibly less advanced Homo sapiens—that is, ourselves.

There we go. Our alien overlords weren’t so very much alien, yeah? And, yet, they were. This kind of thing is why I love science.

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Dog Training

Posted on January 11, 2010 at 12:01 am

by Richard

Now that we have a dog, I’m able to do a little compare and contrast and I’ve come to a conclusion. To wit: It is much easier to train a dog than it is to train a little dude. Much, much easier.

In the probably less than five months that we’ve had our Labrador/pit bull mix, Buzz, we’ve been able to teach him not to poop on the floor, how to roll over, sit, not to beg at the table, how to tell which hand has the treat and how to choose that hand.

In the sixteen years we’ve had the little dudes, we’ve managed to teach them how not to poop on the floor. Most times.

Buzz has his own little area and he doesn’t mess in it.

I’m afraid to walk into the bedrooms of m three little dudes for fear the mess will have gained sentience and will attack just on general principles.

Buzz has his own bowl and will eat from it, making sure not to spill on the floor. If he does, he’ll clean it up. (With his tongue, but still the principle stands.)

After a meal with my little dudes, I’m tempted to rent the place out as a rest stop to a horde of migrating cockroaches moving south to escape the growing threat of the arctic boot heel.

Buzz actually likes to get in the shower. True story: we’ve got a shower without a door or curtain (on purpose, I assure you) and, whenever one of us is in the shower, Buzz will wander into the shower, get wet and happily start licking up the water on the ground.

Sometimes the funk surrounding the older little dudes, George of the Jungle and Zippy the Monkey Boy, is so fierce it’s almost a dose of concentrated evil. Eeeeeevvviiilllllll!

The point of all this. Not much. I’m just sitting here watching the dog lie quiet on the floor while Zippy chases Speed Racer around the kitchen and living room and dining room screaming something about death and dismemberment.

You know, there’s something to be said for a household of pets and no kids.

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