Good Monday morning fare, yes? I love the rambunctious energy of this song, the way son of a gun becomes tonnerre m’écrase, thunder crash me, and buy-oh sung by everyone else becomes buy-you in this version.
It was a mind-freaking thing, yesterday. I'm driving to Home Depot and listening to the evolutionary psychology guy lecturing about the preconditions for hierarchical social structure, the evidence derived from the study of the lower primates and the adaptive potential of submission to superordinate males.
I pull into the parking lot, park the car, turn off the lecture and go inside. And there are a dozen guys, at least, scattered about, shopping at Home Depot wearing football jerseys, all excited about game day Sunday.
The jerseys are all sized way too big. Every guy has a sweatshirt or something like that underneath as if they're trying to fill it out or the jersey is itchy or not warm enough. These post-adolescent men all look like 8 year old boys.
None of them had children with them.
And I felt the urge to inquire as to whether any of them had ever reproduced progeny and passed on their genes.
Now that I think about it, a lecture or two ago the guy was talking about the adaptiveness of the female reproduction strategy of securing resources from a single dedicated male, and than actually bearing the children of as many superior males as possible.
8 comments:
Merci, Chip. The bayou looks like a good place to be as winter gets closer.
It was a mind-freaking thing, yesterday. I'm driving to Home Depot and listening to the evolutionary psychology guy lecturing about the preconditions for hierarchical social structure, the evidence derived from the study of the lower primates and the adaptive potential of submission to superordinate males.
I pull into the parking lot, park the car, turn off the lecture and go inside. And there are a dozen guys, at least, scattered about, shopping at Home Depot wearing football jerseys, all excited about game day Sunday.
The jerseys are all sized way too big. Every guy has a sweatshirt or something like that underneath as if they're trying to fill it out or the jersey is itchy or not warm enough. These post-adolescent men all look like 8 year old boys.
None of them had children with them.
And I felt the urge to inquire as to whether any of them had ever reproduced progeny and passed on their genes.
But that was an urge I could successfully resist.
Perhaps I should add that all would be forgiven had I any reason at all to believe even one of those guys could play the accordion.
Perhaps I should add, also, the one of the guys wearing a homo jersey was in his mid-twenties. He had a pair of sunglasses on top of his head.
Oddly enough, he was accompanied by a women -- not all that bad looking -- who may well have been his girlfriend.
And I was all, like, is the sex better for you because that jersey makes it more like you're getting banged by a pro football player?
Now that I think about it, a lecture or two ago the guy was talking about the adaptiveness of the female reproduction strategy of securing resources from a single dedicated male, and than actually bearing the children of as many superior males as possible.
Maybe that was her angle.
That strategy explains so much.
It reminds me of that song, "What slove Scot to do, Scot to do with it? What slove but a second hand emotion?"
Jeet?
Twerly tweet.
Post a Comment