“Dude, this is Simplex 2,” Johnny was telling his friend. “I got it from going down on Mary Jane. That’s right.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” his friend asked him.
“Oh, I see – jealous, huh? Well, that’s fine with me,” Johnny said. He stroked his sore pensively, causing some of the clear puss to ooze out. “After all, I’ve got proof of something. And what the hell do you have?”
“You’re out of you mind,” his friend told him.
“That’s what you say,” Johnny replied. He collected some more puss onto his finger and then stuck it into his mouth. “Tastes like Ladies Fingers, tastes like Ladies Fingers,” he mumbled to himself deliriously.
He looked around. His friend had left.
“I wonder what would happen if I put some of this stuff into my eye sockets,” Johnny thought out loud.
I call on you to ponder humankind's hunting and gathering roots. Our history as a species is enmeshed with our fellow animals. So why would our interest be anything but aroused? Humankind's survival has always depended on the tracking, capture, and killing of our precious natural rezources (on one particular hunt, I stalked Mt. Rainier for 11 days before killing it, so enthralled was I by its beauty).
We humans have redirected our hunting instincts to sports. Cheering as if our subsistence depended on his success, we are transfixed as the quarterback measures time, distance and the trajectory of the football — just as the bowhunter of yore measured those same attributes while stalking a saber-toothed rictus crane. It forces us to ask, what role ought we humans play in the natural world — virile user or perverse voyeur?