The Short History of Civilization.

The Short History of Civilization.

1. The Chair
2. The Toilet
3. The Gun

(The following is not necessarily factual, nor accurately researched. It is my opinion.)

1. The Chair - The Beginning of Civilization.

Since the dawn of man's time in primitive society he and she have strived to maintain the essentials to eat, sleep, procreate and be comfortable. Contemplating his universe seated on a rock, log or leafy bough proved to be a rough, hard existence. It was also becoming difficult to maintain order at meetings when he could not sit in a place reflecting his authority. He also needed something that was portable and individual, but was suitably elevated and adorned so as to convey his importance.

It also had to be light, elevated and structurally sound. Another necessity had been added to primitive man's needs - authority. He became the 'chairman' and in doing so he heralded in the engineering age.

When a variety of articles and objects had been duly collected and assembled they were all tested for practicality, strength and durabilty. It was eventually evident that the best structure had six components - four legs, a base and a back. Two legs only would wobble, three legs would not stand on a slope; but four legs placed under each corner of a square base was most stable for standing on an irregular surface. This basic understanding of equidistance and angle led to the discipline of trigonometry as used in building.

Now that 'chairman' man had the psychological advantage of height, safety, comfort and a manouverable structure he realised that through the principles of manipulation and multiplication he could duplicate and enlarge any thing he built.

He sat down to think.

2. The Toilet - The Middle of Civilization.

Ancient man is portrayed as a primitive species roaming the lands to eke a meagre existence as either a hunter or a gatherer. Staying alive depended on his or her ability to live off the fruits of nature through scavenging and foraging. He was essentially homeless.

It is not clear if the job deliniation between hunter and gatherer was as distintinctive as the gender difference but it probably made sense for the child bearers and food preparers to hang around the camp while the weapon wielders chased prey.

Sometime between then and now things changed. Urbanization forced the sexes to share roles and even the traditional role titles changed. Man is now the hunter/gatherer and woman is the spender/collector. (This theory can be tested at any shopping mall during the day when men are at work and women are at play, exhibiting a different type of work behaviour - homemaking.)

A long time ago, someone decided they wanted the comforts of home. It was becoming too hard lugging all this equipment, lodgings, supplies and families across the countryside. It was about time for some permanency. There simply came a time when woman said, "bugger this, you go out and fight and hunt, I'm staying home". And she did - she sat right there on the chair.

Before long, the need to urinate inspired her to consider what was to become the next stage of civilization. There was, after all, only one clear difference between the versatility of man's ability to pee, and woman's. He could stand anywhere, anytime, without discretion whilst she needed a discreet place to squat. The chair soon acquired a hole in its base and a curtain surrounded the legs. A lengthier curtain allowed a man to stand in privacy, and the enclosed area soon became a closet and then a room.

The smallest room in the house soon became the most popular and most unhygenic. The need for privacy also necessitated increased housework and awareness of disease. Hunting and gathering was now supplemented with domesticity for part of the human race.

The chairman/woman of the builders and duplicators soon realized the need for many more water closets and many more houses and set about finding ways to capitalize on the developing industry. A basic understanding of the principles of necessity, availability and desire helped with the marketing and advertising that was now necessary to sell the idea of the utopian urban metropolis.

3. The Gun - The End of civilization.

When man became accustomed to hoarding all his possessions in one place he needed to know they were safe. Accumulating all this stuff was a lot of work and that seemed to make it valuable - it needed to be protected and he needed a bigger stick to ward off the competition. Throwing rocks was no longer effective, the enemy just threw them back and standing at his door brandishing a stick was just encouraging close armed combat. A better deterent would be fire on the end of a stick - a firearm.

Once man learnt to combine the skills of rock throwing, stick waving and gunpowder, his superiority was assured. The physcological tactics of primitive combat necessary in the face of the enemy no longer applied when the weapon could kill from afar - it could mean an instant, indiscriminate, silent death.

A better understanding of explosives, ballistics and manufacturing soon led him to develop a deadly array of weapons all based on the original firestick. He no longer needed to be a hunter or a gatherer, everyone could stay with the comforts of home, and spend and collect. His primitive days were over, he had a gun, he had the authority and someone needed to be told.

He sat down to think.

My Dog will Guard My Place

My Zoe Dog willingly rolls over on her back , spreads her legs and wants me to rub her tummy. I approach this situation with caution. I ask myself, what is in it for her what is in it for me? My dog is not holding a gun to my head, she is not holding me for ransom, she does not require love to live. She gladly accepts my care and attention to her needs - she does not whine or upset my equilibrium to let me give her love. She totally accepts my attention, or lack of. When I look in her doleful eyes, I feel joy and sadness that she willingly accepts my love regardless.

It seems strange that I can deserve the love from an animal.

For all the inabilities that restrict my acceptance of my rightful place on this earth - I never cease to wonder why my pet shows endless obedience and devotion to the 85% bag of liquid that I call me.

I call her 'Little Wolf' because she would sacrifice her life to protect me, but I continually disappoint myself in my efforts to prove that I can even protect myself. I have been so disciplined to accept that I am a subservient to the debilitating training program of the human race, that I momentarily forget my duty to care for for those who become victims of my inability to give love.

Why does it seem so easy to share my heart with an animal when I feel so alienated from the human race? She accepts the fact that I have the ability to kick her around the room like a football, but I know that when she folds hers her ears back - she is scared - and I know that she needs my assurance that everything is OK even though I'm pacing the room as though there are demons pursuing my soul and the end is nigh.

If I were to die comatose on the floor, trying to breathe, spewing up my soul; do I lie here gasping and sucking my last breath through a haze of confusion because of my inability to accept that no one said "thank you".....?

No. There are not many who will appreciate my contribution, and there are not many who will sit with me while I pass away and lick my face while I die.

My Dog does not ask much - in fact she asks nothing at all - except allegiance - she would rather die for my cause than me.

I am continually at a loss to understand why my dog will accept my faults and indiscretions and the human race will not. But I will not relinquish the capacity that I have, to extend my compassion for the inadequacies that I have the inability to control, understand or appreciate.

When I die; I will feel the moist licks of my dog most.

Most of humanity will be to too ready to judge me, or praise me, or condemn me, or pity me, or dip their grubby little paws into the meager goldmine that will pass to my descendants.

My dog, and only my dog, will lie beside me and guard me from predators - she has an innate understanding of how precious I am. She will kiss me and protect me because I gave my life to her.

Even when I am gasping my last breaths and cannot stroke her head as I am dead, my dog will guard and protect what she knows is precious and she will not let you near my stagnant body as I regretfully pass from here to there.

Even when I exit from here - my dog will guard my place.

Every Woman's Guide to Man Training

I am not writing this because I want you to hear. I am writing this because I believe it is right. I will write the truth as I see it; not as other people wish it to be to be seen. (Thank you John Scopes).

No man ever went to war on his own accord - he felt is was his duty.

Neville Chamberlain said, in 1938 - "In war, whichever side may call itself the victor, there are no winners, but all are losers". Neville proudly led Britain into World War II and resigned in 1940 after Germany invaded Norway.

Neville's wife, Anne, married him in 1911. He was already a successful business man and had sincerely expected to remain a bachelor and he often said that he never would have become Prime Minister without her support. Her main claim to fame was that she created a bright border of flowers to replace the drab London shrubs at No.10, Downing Street.

Now I'm not going to go on about the second war because that was the only thing of any significance that happened as a result of the first war, but I wonder what mysteries lurk beneath the motives for all the political maneuverings and human carnage.

As I often do when I am amazed and disillusioned by the incapacity of the human race to prove that it is not actually the 'inhuman race' in its race to prove that it is genuinely compassionate towards its fellow members, I begin to wonder why we bother to wage war.

History shows me that war is traditionally waged to extend or protect geographical boundaries. Every nation has a sovereign right to safeguard its inhabitants and allow them freedom of expression and trade. But why? Most of the physical attributes that delineate the areas of individual trading zones that we so often call countries, were decided hundreds of years ago. Because the threat of military annihilation has manipulated many small countries into subservience, they no longer have the will to improve their situation or the leverage to manipulate a more favourable position.

So it seems that any new wars are not really about physical expansion but more about freedom of expression - and to me that is exactly the situation that mirrors the "Battle of the Sexes".

There was once a popular author who theorised that Men were from Mars and Woman from Venus - I wish to dispute this. Women are not from Venus, that is a myth perpetuated by the propaganda Gods of the War Machine to placate the male model of the humanoid. No they are not from Venus, they aren't even from this solar system. They originate from some deep, dark distant cavern in the outskirts of the Universe called 'Manipulamano'.

Oh oh, I can feel the barbs of the femanoid rising to their defense and I sense their anticipation of the fight and the sweet thrill of satisfaction as they relish the agony they inflict on the manoid as he rides into battle with his balls in his hands and his guard down.

May God help us. He created Man in his own image and then ripped a rib out and created Woman and what did she do? She noticed that she had a few bumps and curves and orifices that were not quite structured in the traditionally accepted form of the breast thumping, ego breathing, dominating, appendage hanging, club swinging, foul smelling, undomesticated, hairy, unkempt version of the dick wielding, hole poking, self centered male beast.

Sometime around about the time when she figured out that the figurative fig leaf was scant protection against the throbbing gristle within the loin cloth it was decreed that if HE wanted IT, he was going to have to work for it. Hey, if you want this sweet little pussy to just roll on her back for a tummy rub, well goddamn it boy - you're gonna' work for it - and that's where the trouble started.

Now she wouldn't admit it and she certainly wouldn't say it but she had suddenly become afflicted with the malady of 'Dickus Envious' - (I'm sure Freud would be proud of me, but I disagree with his opinion that I want to get into my mum's knickers).

It became scathingly obvious to her that it was no longer acceptable to be wined and dined, beaten over the head and dragged off to a cave for a penile peccadillo. Things would have to change damn it. She was getting pretty sick and tired of being a collector gatherer, bending her arse over stupid little berries and vegies and washing loinclothes in the river in the pissing rain. And then she'd go back to the cave, hang a boiling pot of hash over a triangle of burning sticks and prepare to bend her arse over again so that the hairy old bastard could get his rocks off, fall into a restful sleep and disappear the next day into the wilderness to down a few of ales at the local Mammoth Slaying Mud Pit.

There just had to be a better way.

But I digress. What the hell was Annie Chamberlain doing planting pretty flowers when Neville was fighting the battle of his life to save his country. Come to think of it, what the hell was his opponents' current squeeze, Eva Braun, doing in the Bunker while Hitler was watching the size of his potential kingdom shrink as quick as his penis in a mousetrap. Or for that matter, lets go back a few centuries and observe a few other copulating examples of penile servitude and labial mastication. (I hope you're reading this Ms. Greer!).

What the hell was Napoleon Bonaparte thinking when he marched a few hundred thousand soldiers to Moscow, discovered that he probably couldn't get in and promptly turned around and marched his troops back home again - losing about half of them to death from the freezing cold or desertion? You call that man a conqueror - crap! He only had one thing on his mind : prove to that sweet little bitch, Antoinette, that his dick really could be massaged by his hand in his breast pocket because he was Emperor of the world! And the poor sucker died of lead poisoning - yeah sure - died from severe penile swelling caused by too much lead in his pencil because she wouldn't give over.

But I digress - again. The point is (and I admit the some of the facts as they are alleged to be, are deliberately distorted to protect the innocent), that I question what were the lovely beaus of these manly man weapon wielders were doing to the poor guys heads in the meantime.

It's strange that there are no armies comprising of women. Females don't appear to be sociologically inclined to band in groups, wield weapons and plunder, pillage and rape just to prove how tough they are - but they'd sure as hell be mean mother fuckers every fourth week. Many military complexities would occur when at any one time roughly 25% of them decided they just wanted to lie down and have a cup of tea and then at a moments notice, want to rip your balls off!

That's part of the beauty of the female race - they are just so unpredictable. But, beware, they have learned to compensate by exerting their biological mood swings in a manner that undermines the entire future of the male species.

Men need to be aware that they are the hapless victims of a sinister plot secretly waged by women to undermine their authority and their usefulness. Do not be distracted by the media hype declaring that men will soon become obsolete in their biological role as implanting seeds for their offspring - that is a clever ploy to encourage men to find new ways to entertain women to perpetuate the myth that they actually care about us.

Men have become subservient to the female aura - the mystery of the female orgasm has fostered the desire to prove that they can satisfy the female libido.In fact my research leads me to believe that men are inclined to believe that women are directly controlled by their regular biological and physical circumstances, that they are in fact slaves to their primitive genetic urge to seek out the best mate and reproduce - and that is all there is, everything else is an illusion.

An illusion! I hear you say - no surely not? Come on guys get your dick out of your hands and have a look around you. I'll summarize the schedule in point form as we follow the growth of the female from birth to death :

All babies cry when they are born only because they get a slap on the bum. Boys enjoy it - like "hey cool, I passed out for a bit - let's party". Girls cry because you disturbed their nap.

Little girls at kinder get jealous that they've got nothing to play with between their legs.

Little older girls at primary school wear dresses because they want to be able to show you (very quickly) that their knickers look real pretty.

Bigger little girls at secondary school have noticed the attention men give their mothers and mimic the preening, prancing, attention seeking habits their aging, strung-out, sexually frustrated role models exhibit.

At puberty, the mother lode take their innocent charges aside and relieve the stress of discovery of regular lunar inspired bleeding for the majority of their lives by delivering the news that they must be nice to find a nice man to breed with and have nice kids.

(Woops - that should be enough - where do the sweet innocents go from here?)

Suddenly, those lovely legs look even better with less knickers.

The discovery that she actually had the ability to restrict and regulate his copulating by feigning embarrassment over such a yucky thing as blood and such a silly thing as a headache.

The realization that multiple orifices seem to excite the male for no apparent reason offered a whole range of possibilities for male exhaustion and female multiplicity that do not lead to pregnancy but actually increase their status as playthings.

Awareness that boys like toys and seem to have control of their lives and girls can satisfy a demand that boys are willing to pay for.

The availability of sex toys that bypass the need for real penile penetration.

"Gee. I only have to open my legs and be able to cook a good meal and he'll do anything for me".

"Cool, I can stay home all day, not actually having a job and he will slave at the Mammoth Pit all day, make money, take me out, be polite just so he can slip that silly train in my tunnel and blow off some steam"

Pregnancy swells them to the size of a blithering, waddling, deformed, ugly, moody, baby mammoth and they wonder if they are still desirable.

After childbirth, the body does not quite return to its normal shape and it is suddenly apparent that there are other female predators taking an interest in their sperm store.

The post child female enrolls in the "Other Mothers Gossip Club" which is actually a pseudonym for "Lets Get Together and Share Stories of How I Fucked Over My Neanderthal Tosser For a Fortune Club" which is really a secret club called "Time for Another Drinkies Darling".

Lonely, sexually frustrated middle aged female pulls out all stops to recapture her youth by spending enough money on cosmetics, massages, joggers and lycra pants to put an entire generation of Nigerians through Medical School.

Consumption of alcoholic beverages increases to the point that her obstetrician starts wearing beer glass goggles so that she feels comfortable.

Suddenly it's no longer necessary to be a bitch because of the monthly cycle - now it's just good enough to be a bitch because they can.

And the most blessed thing of all - the dick wielding, chest beating behemoth doesn't realize that after working all his life for HER, he's going to die first, leaving her a vast fortune, house, car and retirement fund and complete unfettered access to all his desperately horny rich friends.

(Now that's a Wildlife Species Special I really wanna' see David Attenborough do!)

But I digress again. Although I still find it legally fascinating that you do more time in a personal prison for Divorce than you do in a real prison for Murder.

Are you beginning to see where this is heading - maybe not, okay.

Just remember one thing - there is a place in the universe that not many men understand, it is a place were few have the courage to go and few have had the opportunity to visit and return from unscathed. It is a place of confusion and delusion, a realm of deceit, a scene set for a disaster, a place where only the brave man will venture for fear of castration, and a place in a space that is a woman's place - and she wants it all.

And now I will take you back to the beginning.....watch the swinging watch and listen to my commands. When you awake, everything will be better once you listen to this:

Male and Female do no longer exhibit the accepted anthropological traits of Hunter, Gatherer, Collector, Nurturer (Margaret Mead - eat your heart out). We are now from here on in, only classified in TWO categories : Trainer and Fetcher.

The male has become a willing participant in the female training programme. Men are being trained to obey. Women don't really know what they want - all they know is that from the moment they are born, they don't have something men have - a PLAYTHING. So to compensate for their ignorantly self perceived deprivation they practice a game of manipulation and control. Face it, every girl wants to be a boy because he can DO things and GET things that she cannot conceive of and doesn't know how to get.

A women will spend her life not knowing what she really wants (she's not quite sure of her place in the world - evidenced by her obsession with cosmetic and fashion imagery and illusion). But she will spend an inordinate amount of time and energy searching for things that she thinks she might want.

The 'Man Training' programme is her way of controlling any situation to her advantage so that if, just on the off-chance that she finally does see something that she does want, the man who is so desperately clutching her bosom will not even question his motives, but instantly come to attention, chase and retrieve, just like a well trained pet.

Of course the root of the problem still remains nevertheless. She does not know what she wants, but as long as she has trained a man to fetch it, he will keep on fetching and providing even though it's not really necessary. Instinctively, his dick needs a home - and she knows it.

Now I am well aware that many will think that this all nonsense and I have no idea what I'm talking about. Well I am going to sum this all up with one example that I want Men and Women to think about.

When a man goes to stand and relieve himself in the toilet bowl, and the household members are also female; he instinctively knows (through diligent training) that he must lower the seat for the next delicate female derriere to comfortably position itself thereon in such a manner so that she will not soil her pretty little fingers by touching any part of the urinal lid or seat.

Well, f..k you princess, there's a new game in town, and you, bitch is gonna' learn it.

When a man goes for a piss, it doesn't matter if he splashes or squats, sprays or prays - all he's gotta' do afterwards is PUT THE SEAT DOWN AND THEN THE LID. The point being that she is now going to lift the lid herself - MAKE THE BITCHES WORK FOR IT. (she's going to have to DO something for HERSELF).

Besides which, you're covered dude. You put the lid down for hygiene purposes and you don't know who will be there next. This is ANTI-DISCRIMINATORY. Men should no longer be treated as lesser equals.I don't wanna put the seat down any more - "you freakin' do it". Goddamn it - I've never seen a female put the seat UP for me!

But, I digress again.

My point is that I need to remind you about the War, any Wars, all Wars. I don't think that Anne Chamberlain was really that happy with her garden out the front of No. 10 Downing Street. In fact, she probably wasn't really happy with the wedding ring, or the car, or the school the kids went to, or the fucking silver tea set, or her pissant (sic) husbands profession or handling of the country. No way was she happy with anything, but she knew she could be happier if she could get what she thought she wanted and she knew she had just the man to do it for her.

I can almost hear Barbara Bush whispering in hubbies ear - "I want Iraq". What the hell was Helen of Troy thinking, or Cleopatra or Mrs. Genghis Khan or Mrs. Stalin thinking, or Cherie Blair or Janette Howard or any of the other thousands of females who stood silently behind their powerful partners succinctly whispering sweet juicy promises of endless passion and devotion in return for a seat on the observation deck on the sinking stinking ship of greed.

Big things start off little. It doesn't take long for a female to realise that if a man can get her a bunch of flowers, he can get her a bunch of diamonds. If he can get her a piece of land and build a house, he can get her a country or few and all the chattels attached and maybe even an empire.

Female intuition is an amazing thing but their ability to survive, thrive and dominate is a terrifying thing - God help any man who incurs her wrath.

Beethoven's Ninth Symphony

This comment by Goblinono originally appeared in response to "What Does Beethovens Ninth Symphony Mean?" published at - http://www.theatlantic.com/culture/archive/2010/09/what-does-beethovens-ninth-symphony-mean/62556/

"The little deaf fella' who pumped out this masterpiece on a piano with no legs had long admired the overtures of Scottish songsters. Beethoven was never comfortable with the resonance of the human voice and wrote this to be presented so near the top of the vocal range that it tends to outwit the performers. His inspiration was from poetry by Friedrich Schiller and he was probably trying to depict scenes of rapturous romance attuned to chaos and arousal. Unfortunately he died whilst working on his tenth symphony, which may have surpassed all his previous works because by now he was determined to overcome the restrictions of popular tonal laws. In considering his musical development he may well have topped himself trying to depict orgasm as his crowning achievement"

A Mathematical Twist

This is Goblinono's response to an article "A Mathematical twist on the Fermi Paradox" from Discovery News at this address - http://news.discovery.com/space/a-mathematical-twist-on-the-fermi-paradox.html#mkcpgn=rssnws1

"Considering that our existence on this planet is probably the result of a random event that was a legacy of all the evolving forces of the universe, mathematically our existance should not exist in the realm of probability but in the realm of improbability. If we consider the size of the universe, its age and the direction of light travel (that depends of course on whether the universe is expanding or contracting!) and then factor in all the information about the universe that we are not yet privy to because of our young age and limited technology we may find that we are in fact THE ONLY incidence of a chance occurence in this great cosmological melting pot. The odds of this happening are incedibly high - and it seems to me that if the odds are so against this chance event, then we probably are THE ONLY civilization to have occured as a random event.

The essence of probability theory was developed in the 1600's from a partnership between a gambler (de Mere) and 2 mathematicians (Pascal and de Fermat) and it was postulated that if an event had a lesser chance than one in a hundred, then it probably would not happen.

There is also a mathematical problem presented by the 'inspection paradox' - the probability distribution of a quantity that has already started its life is shifted, leading to a larger average than would otherwise be expected. For example : when you wait for a bus, the distribution of bus interarrival times has already started.

In other words - if you were an apple in a bunch of apples inside a spinning bag hung from the ceiling it would be hard to be objective about your position unless you removed yourself from the bag - and then you would no longer be included in the sample you were studying - so the odds have changed yet again!"

Launch their Hearts

This is a comment posted by Goblinono in response to an article "Brain Freezer claims secret of Eternal Life' at -http://news.discovery.com/tech/cryonics-brain-life-death.html#view-comments

"Sure sounds like a high-tech facility - rusting warehouse, a table as steps! If you freeze a body today and then defrost it, all you will have is an unfrozen body - there is not necessarily any signs of life because the body is much like a machine that transports the brain and houses the soul. There are theories that the human body weighs around 20 grams less after death - some say that is the weight of the soul, though I would suggest that is the weight of moisture leaving the body. Does anyone really want to be re-born in the future without a soul or spirit - do you really want to take the chance of living in a man made hell and exhibiting the mindlessness of a clone or a zombie? You can't just "launch their hearts", there is more to human life than just a beating heart!"

Friday, 2 July 2010, 1:04:07 PM

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Nature's Pressure Cooker

I continually maintain that mother nature will keep seeking ways to right the imbalance the human plague of consumption is causing this planet.

It is interesting that this 'silent' event comes at a time of increasing global natural disturbances such as the explosion of Eyjafjallajokull, unusual weather disturbances, increasing seismic activity in unusual places and the blowout and subsequent capping of the oil well in the Gulf of Mexico.

This may not be a fortuitous event, but natures way of addressing the damage we are doing to the ecological stability (internally and externally) of this planet - our home.

It seems as though we are now living on a giant pressure cooker that is about to blow off excess forces that we cannot foresee, do not understand and cannot stop.

If this event happens every 300-900 years and the last was supposedly in 1700, we are already within the window of opportunity, or miss-opportunity (if that's the word?). Maybe now is the time to take your long service leave!

*(This is a comment by an enraged goblinono in response to an article titled "Seattle's Ongoing 'Silent Quake' lends Clues to the Big One" at :: -
http://news.discovery.com/earth/seattles-ongoing-silent-quake-lends-clues-to-the-big-one.html#mkcpgn=rssnws1).