Autumn 2009
Cave paintings and fireside stories were some of the first expressions of man's untamed, restless spirit. A sign that we were getting good at staying alive, thanks in part to fire and stone tools.
Sadly, tens of thousands of years later, we're still running to catch the herd, but this time it's a bus or taxi, job interview, or work deadline. Our biggest fears are often whether we'll have phone or internet service (where's the closest hotspot, not waterhole), or if gasoline will be over or under 2 dollars a gallon.
A lot has changed since camels roamed North America, but then nothing really has. Life is still stressful and for many humans downright deadly, though no longer due to territorial cats.
Society can be very harsh if we can't play the game, just as nature was harsh on our hunting and gathering grandparents, one thousand generations removed. It used to be that a broken leg was a death sentence, and now it's the corporate downsize.
But it's different when we tell stories. We can get lost in words, in the images and sounds burried on the page or flowing from our lips. I have a feeling that it's always been that way. As long as humans have used language for communication. Maybe even when communication consisted of body language and grunts. (Caveman 1 cowers in mock fear and points. Caveman 2 rolls his eyes and wonders if the wolf was really that big.)
Stories are the purest form of escapism. Before any of our ancestors ever painted the hunt scene, they told stories of it.
And by their doing so, they proved that it's okay to exit the rat race for a time and enjoy creation. After all, survival of the species in 40,000 BC was much more important than surviving the day at the office in 2009. Yet, even back then, someone still found time to enjoy a little ingenuity.
Comic by Dan Piraro
Bizarro Blog
The Stories, Four
Coffee Mate by Ken Goldman
Nuclear Mouth by Nathaniel Tower
An essay by
And presenting this quarter's interview
Twenty Questions with Shaun Jeffrey