Evolution

People will tell you that humans are all different. This is true. What they usually don’t say is that every person shits in the morning (or any other time according to preference) and loves their kids (again, according to preference, and often how tidy their dwelling areas are). What truly unites humanity is actually very simple…lunch. A wise man once said that at the center of life is each day, and because in the center of a person’s day is lunch, lunch should therefore be at the center of a person’s life. A religion may one day spring from this concept, evaporating social and religious boundaries, bringing a nirvana-like harmony to nations the world over, and they As One Will Order The Caesar Salad. Or something like that. Again, according to preference. Perhaps these will be the opening lines.

Since our species was young, its youthful members have congregated in groups in places far from the other older members, listening or creating loud noises and taking large quantities of the current intoxicant in an attempt to block out reality for a few sweet hours and to generally attempt sexual relations with the opposite sex. The older members, hearing the noises of their merrymaking in the distance, turn to each other and shake their heads saying when will they grow up, so irresponsible these youngsters, always making noise when there were wolves around. Soon the cold weather would come, they should be hunting mammoth like the kids from the neighboring tribes do. Ahh yes the mammoths, they don’t seem to make them like they used to, such small unimpressive tusks these days. Yes and the woolly rhino were definitely different in the old days. And so on and so forth.

Neanderthal party, species.

And so having come from Delhi to Hamburg, and from Germany to Denmark, our Hero the Major found himself in a rock bar in Aarhus, along with some newly-acquired friendly young associates who seemed to be offering him a plentiful supply of beer. The frequency of their hearty slaps on each other’s backs and had grown in intensity, and he realized with amusement that with such a large amount of hairy, blond people swilling beer in a small noisy place, it could easily be mistaken for a party in the middle ages. Although the space between people was limited to only a few centimeters, they all appeared to be having the time of their lives. Some seemed even to be dancing, but that was just quite impossible.

At that very second, a vision came and swamped his consciousness with all the savageness of a large live haddock being slapped into his face….

…visions of a tribe of prehistoric people….the girl next to him was suddenly wearing a tiger skin instead of jeans and a blouse…..the dudes around him were holding clubs instead of mobile phones….and the bar had metamorphosed into a large fire, where people danced about holding sticks with barbecued poultry…

The heavy browed, long haired men and women were all singing some raucous neanderthal drinking song, swilling something red colored from hollowed rocks. Behind in the darkness some people were banging rocks onto other rocks in a crude attempt at rhythm. The crowd roared and jeered their appreciation when the ‘music’ stopped,

“Aaaarrriieeruughghgaaaa hhahahaaa bvaarwillumillu!! BVAARWILLUMILLU!!”

Bash, bash, bash, crash crash roar.

Then a woman with bones in her hair came up and sat next to him, handing him a hollowed rock.

“OOshamarfluur!”

Major blinked. He looked at the red fluid sloshing within. The figures capered in the firelight and the noise grew louder.

“Ooshamafluur?”

Somewhere in the distance a wolf howled audibly, despite the noise from the gathering. Gleaming eyes were visible in the distance beyond the light. They bobbed and circled every so often, hungrily.

“Ooshamaflur! Havadgrramlu!!” She gestured crazily at the fire, then wiggled her hips around madly, laughing.

Major Tom opened his mouth tentatively to say something:

“Wha-”

- but the sound was cut from his throat as a blur of hair and noise careered into her suddenly from the darkness to the side. A crude shape of unknown material hit her head. There was a dull thud. She grunted once, then folded onto the ground. The man stood still for a moment. Then he grumbled in satisfaction and reached down to heft the comatose woman at his feet onto her back by the hair, dragging her away on her back into the darkness. Nearby, a group of youngsters standing in animal loin skins held their spears up and roared in unison at his success. The man seemed to just ignore it.

Major Tom looked again at his drink, tipping the strange liquid into his mouth as someone bumped into his shoulder -

…*>>&%¤<<*…

- as they walked past to the toilets. Thrash metal music was pounding the club with savage intensity. A girl was saying something into his face, a drink outstretched in her hand. The press of bodies and the smell of people was upon everyone. He shook his head, remembering vividly the drugs he had taken over the years, shrugging to himself and accepted the beer with a smile of thanks.

And thus reality continued its merry dance into the morning.