People are, by design, pretty intelligent I do believe. Let’s face it, were we not overly bright, we would have been extinct by now having ended up somewhere along the food chain as some beast’s snack, or pudding, or stew, or roasted bits. The fact that we have developed such a society raises many flags which speak of a species still on the rise in the brain pan division. We can, for the most part, form words out of sounds, we have opposable thumbs (which apparently makes us half a breath higher on the ladder than Curious George). We boast of our achievements, write voluminous tomes detailing our exploits, dreams, fantasies (and I’ll take a bit of a mental walkabout at this juncture……..feel free to talk amongst yourselves or to yourself or raid the fridge). We build monuments to our accomplishments, brief though they may be, and we have parades to celebrate all things humanity has to offer. I mean, let’s face facts, no where in the animal kingdom is there a single label on any tube, can, bottle or other container warning the leopards not to stick this product up the woohaa or they may burst into flames. Humans have to label such things, because we’re brilliant.
Another aspect of the human experience would be escalators. Yes, these devices of transport which are supposed to take you from the floor to another floor making your mind THINK you’ve take the stairs when, in fact, your only had to step twice and wait. I completely understand why we have escalators and why they move rather slowly (so people like me won’t think them to be an amusement ride and throw my hands in the air at the most dangerous part), however, what I cannot understand is the incredible need of humanity to clog up the escalator exit because they’ve apparently been lulled into a sleeplike state along the ride and have now to be awakened by Prince or Princess Charming. And some have found that, absent the arrival of said royals, a swift firm kick to the seat of the pants tends to get the body jumpstarted.
This clogging of the doorways, aisles, and other avenues of exodus seems to have reached epidemic proportions. Anytime a group finds itself released from the group, not only does the group attempt to exit the same door at the same time, but those who actually do step through the doorway tend to stop and congregate as if they’re lost pets awaiting pick up. Why is that?
Have we become so advanced that we’re beginning to come full circle back to stoopitude?