Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Paleolithic Bookshop Man

There are two months of the year that begin with the letter M.  On the fifth day of each of these two months I make a vague attempt to put less of  perspective on myself, and venture out into the great wide world where I have been told over the generations probably around one hundred and eight billion people have had there being. And sometimes I have to remind myself that a 'billion' is a 'thousand million.'  Which is so big a number it achieves the status of a 'trust fund baby number.' And not to labor the point, those of us who are currently alive comprise around six or seven percent of the total population of "what about me's" that have ever existed upon our planet. And about twenty million of us still live in slavery, the majority of the rest of us indentured to people who call themselves corporations.

It's also true that I can look into the past, as that past has been presented to me, and try to think of a period of past time which might have best suited an overly sensitive, generous minded, decent upstanding person with elegant wrists that wears the same skin as I do.  And here I have often been tempted by the hunter gatherer clans, who wandered through the warmer places, gathering berries and sometimes managing to persuade the agile to chase after something with hoofs so that everyone can sit around a camp fire,  feeling very bloated, momentarily content and plump about themselves. Sadly we still do something like that, and I have never really enjoyed it, which means that hunter gathering might not be right for me. But lets not get all depressed about this, there is still a chance that some future iteration of our species might develop a culture devoted to lazing around in second hand book shops. 

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