Homo sapiens most defining evolutionary adaptation, other than the opposable thumb, is our large brain . . .probably the largest brain-body ratio in the animal kingdom. Well, certain cetaceans have a larger brain-body ratio than we do . . . fortunately, they don’t have opposable thumbs . . . that’s what really causes the mischief. Whales can hardly fabricate anything resembling a slingshot, let alone a nuclear bomb, with a pair of six-foot long flippers. If they could, they would . . . count on it. That’s the problem with big brains . . . very clever . . . very bad ideas.
Keep in mind that the human brain, as we now suffer it, has been two million years in the making. It has gone through a number of prototypes . . .some smaller & smarter. . .some larger & dumber (Neanderthal, for instance). Human brains remained fairly benign when all we could do was grunt and point. But when a coalition of synapses finally enabled us to turn grunts and gestures into communicable abstractions and infectious memes, the arms race was on. Again, the guy with the bigger-brained abstractions . . . the best BULLSHIT . . . got laid, . . . while his less-endowed sidekick gave him a foot rub hoping for a little “tail” by association.
In much the same way as a peahen’s preference exacerbated the cock tail thing, big-brained gals played a huge role in the “bullshit arms race.” Gals liked guys with big ideas, bullshit or not. Big ideas often meant big meals . . .which meant big kids with big brains who begot kids with ever expanding craniums. The only thing that saved us was the absolute girth of the gal’s pelvis. Otherwise we might have heads the size of pumpkins by now.
The average weight of the human brain is now about three pounds. The average daily weight of a human turd . . .be it those dainty little marbles gals are so fond of . . .or the sequoia trunk felled by most guys . . .is just under a pound (though I’m sure I’m a standard deviation above the mean). So, we shit at least a third of the weight of our brain each day. That’s not surprising in the least for a species that spends the greater part of each day bullshitting its conspecifics (a bullshit word for family, friends and coworkers).
Do I even need to mention that we learn to bullshit before we learn to walk or talk . . .which we learn damn quickly, btw? Keep in mind that bullshit at its most basic level is about deceitfulness, disingenuousness and deception . . .and you don’t have to be able to talk to bullshit someone. New parents think its a riot to play peekaboo with Junior . . . “mommy gone” . . . “daddy gone” . . . “baby” gone . . . BULLSHIT . . .nobody’s gone anywhere, you just covered your eyes. Predictably, junior is a quick study (primate infants have to be, they’re too vulnerable otherwise) . . . He thinks, “out of sight out of mind.” As a wobbly toddler, Junior hides a ball behind his back . . . “ball gone gone!” . . . BULLSHIT, it’s behind your fucking back. Once Junior crosses the threshold from preverbal bullshit to loquacious bullshit, he’s got even more parental support . . .Santa Claus, Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy, guardian angel, heaven, hell, “You’ll put your eye out.” Bullshit in training, folks.
As Junior matures his bullshit gets more sophisticated . . .more self-serving . . .remember, even “good” bullshit is self-serving . . .keeps you tight with your conspecifics. Think: “Gee Gloria, I love the new dress. The glitter really compliments the chartreuse” . . . BULLSHIT . . . “Ohhh John, it was good for me too!” . . .BULLSHIT . . . “No, of course I’m not mad” . . .BULLSHIT
. . . “Yeah, Yeah, sure, I love you . . .pant . . .pant.” BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT!
Every hour of every day bullshit . . .of omission . . .of intention . . .of good . . .of bad . . .defines who we are as a species of social animals. It is the glue that holds society together . . .it will also likely be the catalyst of our extinction.
There is hope. Just as there’s a cluster of synapses in our big brains dedicated to bullshit, there’s another cluster dedicated to its detection. Here’s the rub. It’s easy to bullshit. It’s much harder to figure out who’s bullshitting us and why . . . Do I need to mention that most of us are not big-brain savvy . . .too much effort involved . . .too many lame, mindless distractions . . .like say, “SURVIVOR!!” Keep in mind also that fifty percent of the population is below average intelligence (IQ of 98) . . .still more are a deviation or two below that. I’m not an elitist intellectual . . . For shit sake, I graduated in the bottom eighteenth percentile of my high school class . . .I do, however, recognize bullbutter when it’s oozing between my toes . . . I’m just sayin’
Bullshit comes in many forms . . .shit for brains . . .brain farts . . .full of shit . . .mental constipation . . .diarrhea of the mouth . . .blow it out your ass. If we could clean the poop tube periodically, we could flush the ass kabob into the sewer where it belongs instead of letting it lay around for others to step in.
Otherwise people, Homo SAPiens are fucked.
Indeed, and the greatest of all bullshit is "magical thinking."
ReplyDeleteLooking forward to this BW
(Here’s rubbing your nose in it… in the spirit of lively and friendly engagement. Thanx for the invite.)
ReplyDeleteBullshit is not the glue… it is the fertilizer!
Read a fairly good article once decrying this “magical thinking” thing, and offering as an alternative “learning to live with uncertainty.” The author’s gist supplied the grist that slips through my ever-determined fist… more on that later.
Hair-doos and peek-a-boos and Hark, the Harold angels sing – all of these seemingly antiquated liturgies our esteemed blogger has chalked up to the BS through which we slog; slipping two steps back for every one forward. But like all those social critics who deny intellectual elitism while walking and talking like the proverbial duck dressed up in peacock philosophy, his insistence on a solid footing keeps him quacking forever aghast, oblivious to the life-giving substance through which he waddles. For where he detects only anal rejects, nature imbeds its seeds!
Every evolutionary adaptation is a gamble, and in an ever-changing environment, even the best fits are but temporary holding patterns. The bacteria that first detoxified oxygen tapped a catalyst for the exponential growth… and then left it stranded in the narrowest of possible habitats. Hominids stood upright and traded speed and stability for dexterity and back aches. And, yes, teaching the young to survive in the world risks perpetuating falsehoods, passing down outmoded behavior – sustaining them on substances destined for the lower intestine.
But daddy never hides the ball with the intention of hiding it once and for all. Every time it is revealed – like magic – the bullshit detector is strengthened. In this sense, bullshit is not only a necessary precursor to its detection, (which would go without saying) but it actually provokes the conditions for its own negation.
Sometimes, all we need is the false confidence of a friendly compliment to seize the chance at a relationship we may have otherwise let walk by. And maybe someone will ACTUALLY think Gloria looks good in that dress, even if you don’t but tell her so anyway. Had you not bullshitted her, she may have just donned a pair of old jeans and missed her lover-to-be.
Hell, a peacock may put his life on the line for that chance to bag a peahen… but then, the peacock is not asking to live forever; just long enough to score. Expecting there to be some rational connection between the attractiveness of his nethers and the survival value of his gametes is to miss the point entirely. For a dynamic system is internally contradictory, or it is dead. Much seemingly useless, even disadvantageous, variation exists within nature long before what is peripheral is selected for and made central to change.
Socially, (though it may stink a little) even as one believes in God, one may also believe in human agency; relying upon the former as one prepares the latter for triumph! (After all, today happens to be Martin Luther King birthday, lest we forget his motivations.)
So, to our philosophers who bemoan “magical thinking” I have this to say: Bullshit is the stuff of uncertainty, which makes it the rectal wellspring of all things fecund and potential. The slippery slope of evolution, and social change, is greased with Bullshit, and s/he who rejects it due to its unpleasant smell will fail to fertilize their fields.
Diuretics for everyone!!!
Love you, Bob! Keep provoking me!
Hey Beni, thanks for the nose job. shit, you put more effort into it than I did. . . .But I absolutely agree . . .I'm not bullshittin when I say we need Bullshit . . imagine a day without it. But . . . and here's a big butt . . . if we're not careful . . .well . . .you know
ReplyDeleteKeep in mind, if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck . . . etc . . .and if its wings fling a little pooh from time to time . . .that's only to be expected . . . from a duck out of water, that is.
but seriously thanks for reading and writing . . . I'm working on the magical thinking thing. I have to lay the groundwork for all those folks who don't waddle . . .or strut . . . as the case may be.
I'll keep the love thing in reserve until after our first kiss.
Best,
Bob