Well guys, it’s been nice knowing you. Unfortunately, I have been to the mountaintop and have seen the handwriting on the proverbial wall. I tried to ignore it, but whenever I turn, I see more and more walls marred with bad news graffiti.
I even consulted my magic eight-ball and in the mysteriously charged purplish water, I get this message: All signs point to extinction.
Gents, friends, countrymen, lend me your ears! Our time in the sun, like the cycles of the moon, fast is waning. Our time as alpha beings will certainly end soon. No longer shall we be the masters of our domains. Soon, our top dog status will be a mere footnote in the annals of history . . . or should I say herstory?
As crusty troubadour Bob Dylan vocalized, ‘the answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind.? The question of course is, ‘Don, what the Hades are you yabbering on about??
I anticipated that question.
Read the following Associated Press paragraph or three and if you still can’t connect the dots, I’ll do it for you afterwards.
‘Chester, England — In an evolutionary twist, Flora the Komodo Dragon has managed to become pregnant all on her own, without any male help. She is carrying seven baby Komodo dragons . . .
? . . . Parthenogenesis is a process in which eggs become embryos without male fertilization. It has been seen in about 70 species, including snakes and lizards. Scientists are unsure whether female Komodo dragons have always had this latent ability to reproduce or if this is a new evolutionary development.?
?. . . ‘It’s baffling why a species starts doing this,? said Kevin deQueiroz, a research zoologist at the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History in Washington, DC. ‘It would be helpful to know how often this happens and what the mechanism is that allows them to do that.??
Kevin, the answer to your first question, ‘Why a species starts doing this?? is: Because they can. It’s their perogative.
Men, science is doing us in.
Let’s face it like men, men. The gig’s up. The mysteries of religion, the tapestry of secrets we have woven to keep us in power are being slowly unraveled by science. It’s been a fun run of male popes and presidents, of kings and heads of households, but that SUV is about out of gas.
Yep, with news of The Virgin Dragon, it’s as if Mother Nature just served divorce papers to Father Time. Women are starting to get the idea we are just a necessary evil — a way to keep the species alive. Once upon a time, in some book of new testaments, immaculate conceptions were just that, Immaculate. Soon, with scientists learning more about gene splicing, designer babies and cloning, immaculate conceptions will just be — well, immaculate only in that they will be clean and not messy. Just conceptions.
Damn science!
Planet of the Apes used to be a terrifying cinematic vision of our future. It was a future where men were enslaved by other, hairier primates like chimpanzees, apes and orangutans. Thank goodness, actor Charlton Heston ended that upside-down world in the sequel, Beneath the Planet of the Apes. He just happened to find a nuclear bomb and BOOM!
I got a gut feeling, however, it’ll be the Planet of the Chicks before any chimp takes over. I’m telling you guys, once women figure it out, there will be no reason to keep us around. We’ll be banished to some remote, smelly island with dirty socks and underwear hanging from the trees and scattered in the sand. It’ll be just like that island from the book Pinocchio, where naughty boys go and become asses — er ah, donkeys. (Hmmmm? Was that some silly children’s fairy literature, or really a metaphor for boys turning into men? That, if there is time left, would be an interesting discussion.)
In the early 1970s, Star Trek creator Gene Roddenberry tried to spin another futuristic TV series. Called Planet Earth, it stared actor John Saxon. Saxon played Dylan Hunt, who was in suspended animation until the year 2133. I was about 10 years old when the pilot aired (I think it was on ABC). What I remember is this: When Dylan awoke, men were enslaved by a society of not of apes, but women. Men were called ‘dinks,? I think.
Dinks, I think, were used just as a donkey would be — as beasts of burden. Women ruled, but men still had to move the furniture. I was scared then, more so now.
I’ll end with this: Men, hug your sons. Tell ’em we tried, but failed to hold onto their world. Damn science! Damn the future!
Comments for one of a fast dying breed can be e-mailed to: dontrushmedon@charter.net