Showing posts with label Kardashian. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kardashian. Show all posts

Thursday, 31 July 2014

Doing it by Numbers

Fish, reptiles, amphibians… cold, slimy unfeeling, primitive inhabitants of our planet’s thin, life-supporting layers breed like there is no tomorrow. For them there isn’t; at least in the sense of any notion of legacy. Their offspring burst forth and struggle for survival – like tiny baby turtles being picked off by a deadly Luftwaffe of gull-Stukas as they instinctively dash for the sea, in a literal race for their lives. The numbers game is the strategy of indifferent forebears who will have no interaction other than, perhaps, a fight for territory with their grown-up but unrecognised progeny. It works, but it epitomises the red-in-tooth-and-claw nature of, er, nature.

The cold-blooded appear to be from an earlier evolutionary strain, successful but with small brains and driven by pure instinct. Higher up the chain of life come the mammals and birds which, generally, invest rather more in raising their broods, the young needing protection until they can fend and fight for themselves. But still, when push comes to shove, certain animals will readily devour their own young… and then have some more. All playing the numbers game; the more you have the greater your species’ chances of multiplying and of dominating.

The higher primates however, have a different strategy. With bigger brains and therefore bigger heads, they drop their sprogs before the giant heads make natural birth impossible to survive and then, despite all that pain, they dedicate a huge part of their lives to rearing the young and schooling them in the ways of their societies in order that they may then go on to do the same. It appears to be more than just raw nature driving their actions and the survival of that revered infant is placed at the highest level of their priorities; in humans sometimes coming even before survival of themselves… which is a bit short-sighted, if you think about it, but that’s primal urges for you.

Still, there’s only so much love to go around and there is a limit to how many children can be given the best chances in life. The more you have the more thinly you spread their possibilities and the more you depend on levels of altruism that may not be available when resources are stretched. Breeding in numbers is a survival trait adopted by animals with lower cognitive functions; a trait that fish, reptiles and amphibians appear to share with the worst of welfare dependents, primitive societies driven by authoritarian religions… and certain strains of Labour voters.

Many, many hands...
Better to give than to receive?

You can almost forgive the chavs for they know what they do, but there’s only so much oxygen to go around. If you want to know who the enemies of human evolutionary progress are you only have to look at who in the world has the biggest families. I mean, for fuck’s sake, how many Kardashians does one planet need?

Wednesday, 8 August 2012

What have I missed?

So, world, I go away for a long weekend and what do you do? You bloody well go ahead and have news without me? How very typical and how very dare you.

Among the usual dreary, everyday stories of millionaires being variously kidnapped, tortured and killed by their relatives, of vicious dogs running riot, of pregnant celebrity bikini photographs (what is wrong with you, tabloids?) of bankers bonuses, failed policies, government u-turns and advice to variously eat or not eat chocolate, I return to a veritable cornucopia of stuff I'm bound to have an opinion on, but have precious little time to write about.

Louise Mensch steps down, without so much as an email asking my permission. Nick Clegg resigns - well he may as well do after spitting the dummy over the non-issue of thoroughly pointless and unworkable Lords reform. Somebody ditches a car on Mars (I hope they've competed a SORN declaration), there is a post-flood mosquito epidemic in Somerset and some sick fuckers appear to have doused a tramp with petrol and set him alight.


And on top of that, we win a gazillion gold medals all in a row without so much as a by-your-leave. It's as if the Britain I knew has been turned upside down and inside out and is unravelling in front of my eyes. I desperately look around for some reassuring talisman, a sign... anything to tell me that I haven't somehow journeyed to an alternative universe.

And there it is. In an uncertain and ever-changing world, it is something to cling to. The natural order may be utterly subverted, the rule book may be torn up and chaos may reign throughout the land, but at least the Daily Mail is still obsessed with Kim Kardashian's gargantuan arse.