{"id":36737,"date":"2021-02-12T08:06:43","date_gmt":"2021-02-12T08:06:43","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.radiofree.org\/?p=161566"},"modified":"2021-02-12T08:06:43","modified_gmt":"2021-02-12T08:06:43","slug":"natural-selection","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/radiofree.asia\/2021\/02\/12\/natural-selection\/","title":{"rendered":"Natural Selection"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Jean-Baptiste Pierre Antoine de Monet, chevalier de Lamarck and Charles Darwin went off on an excursion together into the hitherto unknown interior rainforests of south central Australia, visible usually only by expensive hot air balloon baskets piloted by saucy sheilas. That was the name of the company.  Lower case because Australia has restrictions on poppy heights, although balloons can go as high as the law (of physics) will allow. Locals call it a sin drome. It involves cutting people down to size when it appears they\u2019ve outstretched their ego-britches. Busting balloons was a national pastime, as was the hot air.<\/p>\n

Leaving the Northern Territory\u2019s Charles Darwin University, by Jeep, Jean-Baptiste and Charles learned first hand about the tall poppy thing when a cabal of tertiary students saluted their departure together with a raspberry comment. \u201cPoofters!\u201d one of them yelled, but their backs were turned by the time Jean-Baptiste, on precious loan from the Sorbonne, took umbrage at such la haine<\/em> remark. He knew what a poofter was \u2014 they had a similar observation in Paris: Egalitarians there would yell out \u201cBoofter!\u201d  They never let up on the Marie Antoinette jokes, which were about as funny as Stanley Kubrick\u2019s Barry Lyndon<\/em><\/a>. As they drove off, another miscreant regionally nasalled, \u201cBrokeback Mountain, mate,\u201d and made a giddy-up click-click sound with his tongue. Again, Jean-Baptiste turned instantly, looking for eye contact to duel with \u2014 but, again, nothing.<\/p>\n

Charles laughed. And squeezed Larmarck\u2019s knee.  \u201cDon\u2019t worry about them, J-B,\u201d they went from ship mates to mateship in one generation. Jean-Baptiste moved Charles\u2019s hand toward his crotch, at which point Charles gave up his larrikin larf and pulled his hand away. They were men, not to be trifled with by Falstaffian bawdiness.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know,\u201d Darwin started up again, \u201cthere\u2019s a philosophy professor back at the university who has a funny way of looking at human beings.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you mean, Charles?\u201d he asked, putting Darwin\u2019s hand on his knee again to remove his mickey.  Jean-Baptiste whisked the hand away haughtily, too adult for such juveniliac tomfoolery.<\/p>\n

Darwin continued.  \u201cHe said to me, apropos of the wet snow, as Dostoyevsky would say, \u2018You know, Charles, I\u2019ve been thinking: Animals get rid of animals when they don\u2019t want them in the herd any longer \u2013\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2013You mean like Simba?\u201d Jean-Paul interrupted.<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease don\u2019t interrupt, but yes, I guess so, but minus the wildebeest stampede.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs that natural selection or imposition of the will to power?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnyway,\u201d said Charles, ignoring his fellow explorer, \u201cso my colleague continues, \u2018humans are animals, therefore, humans should be able to drive away humans who are undesired.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIsn\u2019t that what England did \u2014 you know, the far flung thing? The tyranny of distance and fatal shore?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018Preferably,\u2019 he added, \u2018driven away by animals.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cInteresting concept, Charles. Would you say wildebeests figure in that syllogism?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI suppose any member of the kingdom would do, but,\u201d Charles added slyly, \u201cwe needn\u2019t bring in mother-in-laws. Are we not men?\u201d And this time Charles placed Jean-Baptiste\u2019s hand on his own knee. To get him back, Jean-Paul didn\u2019t remove it right away. They looked at each other; it would be a long foraging through the flora and the fauna, looking for love in all the right places. Charles smoked a pipe. Jean-Paul worried he was akin to a prehistoric pornographer. He pictured notebooks filled with sketches of animal letches in flagrante<\/em>. He felt he was disturbing the natural world\u2019s privacy.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe also said \u2013\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy colleague back at Charles Darwin. He said, \u2018I\u2019ve seen homosexuality in the animal world you wouldn\u2019t believe.\u2019 I\u2019ll tell you, J-B, he had me picturing kundalini positions I hope I never see again.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s it? He said nothing else?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, nothing. He gazed out a window, philosophically. It all made sense to him, in syllogistic form. But we<\/em> are men and mustn\u2019t dally in such delicate minutiae.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat the fuck are we out here for then?\u201d<\/p>\n

Before Charles could snark back, a bright yellow plastic boomerang clanged upside J-B\u2019s head. \u201cStop the Jeep,\u201d said J-B.  He leapt out and picked up the upside down smile in the dirt.<\/p>\n

A young Aborigine grinned from the bush, and said, sheepishly, \u201cSorry.\u201d Feeling reconciled, J-B casually flipped the toy smile back and it took out a galah (\u201crawwrk\u201d) on the arc back to the boy. \u201cCunt,\u201d the youngster yelled after the Jeep speeding off.<\/p>\n

Later that evening, now far into the unknown interior, Charles and J-B set up camp, pitched a tent, kindled a fire, ate corned beef and mixed nuts, and polished off a small cask of lambrusco. (Charles thought, first he touches my knee, now he brings along lambrusco.) That night they were taunted by the sound of oversized whippoorwills (at least, that\u2019s what Darwin said they were), and the unnerving movement of something in the bush around them; they told each other jokes and anecdotes to avoid picturing mastiff-sized dingoes dragging them off into the bush and doing things the syllogism professor had seen with his own two eyes and never forgotten. They were especially soothed by elaborate pun stories from childhood summer camps they\u2019d been sent to and almost shared a heart attack laughing over the punchline of \u201cIf the Foo Shits Wear It<\/a>.\u201d It had been so long. Even the whippoorwills seemed to like that one and quieted down after a satisfied titter. And that night, J-B had a vivid dream where he observed, corralled and trapped a rare Great Tit<\/a> in the wilderness. It was a wet dream. And in the morning, he woke to find a still-sleeping Charles\u2019s hand on his knee, and a thirst for liebfraumilch.<\/p>\n

That day, after they had decamped, they trekked and sketched and murmured details of findings and grunted academic jargon to keep the mosquitoes away. They held a moving debate on natural selection and the order of things, everythings. Charles seemingly stuck in his ways regarding evolution, saying stuff like, \u201cNature finds a way,\u201d which sounded suspiciously similar to a line J-B recalled from the film Jurassic Park.<\/em> \u201cSometimes she needs help,\u201d replied Jean-Baptiste.  They seemed at loggerheads and, at one point, about to strike blows, two evolutionists talking, and thinking of walking the talk. Suddenly, Charles felt an urgent need to defecate like a bear in the woods.  He moved off into the bush and pulled down his jeans and began to lose weight.  J-B wandered off-wind and peered meaninglessly into the far cosmological distance. He could hear Charles struggle to release a crocodile back into the wild, as he was wont to express it, and the groans and musical gases disturbed the morning\u2019s quietude.<\/p>\n

\u201cAw, shit,\u201d Charles exclaimed after a while. \u201cI forgot to bring toilet paper.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jean-Baptiste smiled and casually strolled toward his evolutionary tormentor and held out a wad of  delicious-looking French derriere papier. \u201cLooking<\/em> for some of thees?\u201d<\/p>\n

Presumptuous, Charles, still squatting, for fear of dunging up his dungarees if he stood, held out an impatient hand, gesturing for the paper. \u201cC\u2019mon, c\u2019mon,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cHmm,\u201d started Jean-Baptiste, \u201cWhat were you saying<\/em> about survival<\/em> of the fittest<\/em> and natural<\/em> selection<\/em>?\u201d He moved, not toward Charles, but about a dozen feet away, and dropped the wad to the ground dramatically.  \u201cAs I was saying<\/em>,\u201d he continued, camping up the French accent, \u201c somet\u00edmes<\/em> Nat\u00fare<\/em> needs zum help.\u201d He walked quickly to the Jeep and hopped in.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re gonna pay for that, Lamarck,\u201d Charles hollered as he stoop-stepped over to the derriere papier. \u201cYou\u2019ll pay for that, Lamarck!\u201d<\/p>\n

J-B started the Jeep and drove off, leaving Darwin stranded in the wilderness. A man. Handful of Natural Selection. The name of the toilet paper.<\/p>\n\n

This post was originally published on Radio Free<\/a>. <\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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