> > > Me, I'm going to start a society to reinstate "Neanderthal," man, [who
> > > elbowed out by softy old "Modern," man.] It should be possible to get
> > > to that state of innocence and perfection with a little judicious Gene
> > > manipulation.
> > > Until we reach that state of felicity, perhaps I will refer North
> > as
> > > "Vinland."
> > When I was an anthropology major in the Dark Ages, we learned
> > "intermarried" with the next group (and I don't remember their name).
> > we blended. And, if you believe the Clan of the Cave Bear series, the
> > heads" were simply not as smart as the next iteration and faded away.
> > Survival of the fittest and all, but there was definitely
> > that took place. My past-life dreams don't go back that far, so I don't
> > have an opinion.
> > But, I thoroughly enjoy reading yours.
> > Ellen
I have a horrid idea that my sole understanding of the Neanderthal lark
derives from reading,"The Lost World," by Conan Doyle, [who I expect was an
Irishman.] so it is likely to be neither accurate nor up to date.
NB. I didn't mean that my inaccuracy should be attributable to his
Irishness but that I don't suppose he at that time was very well informed
about Neanderthal men. I remember when Piltdown man got exploded and Conan
Doyle came a long time before that.
I shoved that bit in to reinforce my argument and probably to assuage my
inferiority complex to which I admit. I do this to save other people the
extra advantage of pointing it out to me.
In the matter of "Past life dreams," I have never had any, which may [or
may not,] be my loss. There is a book by Jack London, the title of which I
have forgotten about a bloke in "San Quentin?" jail who devotes his time to
cruising around in his past lives while he is in a "Straight Jacket," for
extra punishment. And that is the name of the book, "The Jacket." but does
anybody read Jack London any more.
He is a bit labourious for quite a bit of the time.
I thought you said, Ellen, that you were going to withdraw. I hope you don't
as you seem to have a certain humour which is a leaven to some of the stuff
Yesterday afternoon, I spent a long time trying to find a poem by Kipling,
on the net or web, [as yet I have been unable to discover which is which.]
in which he compares, "The English," with "The Celts." I thought to toss it
into this cauldron to see what would happen.
Although I am convinced that it is to be found, and downloaded I, in my
"rats in a mazeish," way was unable to track it down. Which is a pity
because the last line if each verse is "But the English, ah the English,
they are quite a race apart."
Although I have no conviction that Kipling had got it right, [or that he was
not talking with his tongue stuck fast in his cheek.] the poem could be
useful for keeping the head of patriotic steam up on this list.