Sunday, 12 August
 |
| Grammar |
Good Morning Justin…
When did it get complicated being human? I’m talking groups of people here. You have to figure from earliest times on it
was a challenge to just stay alive. People
thirty thousand years ago were clever but they were still one species in the mix
of animals trying to live. Humans hunted
and they were also being hunted. Maybe
they moved about in extended family groups.
They probably ranged as far as they needed so that they could find
food. Running across other groups of
humans could amount to an uncertain greeting.
If food was in abundance they might find items to trade. If times were hard and food was scarce each
side would likely feel hostile towards the other. Groups of people might also want to protect
abundant territory so that it is used only by them. It seems probable they found ways of marking the
boundary of land they considered theirs.
Running across a skull mounted on a stake, particularly if it were
human, would get anyone’s attention and would be thought of as a threat. If your group was large in number, or
desperately hungry, you are likely to proceed despite the warning. Large numbers have large needs but they can
also overwhelm smaller groups of people.
Ancient people would find security in having large numbers of people on
their side.
A man of long ago would view a woman as a mysterious vessel. She would have the mystique of creating new
life. How magical it is for one person to
create another person… and from within. What
a puzzle it is. Groups of people create
words that are necessary to communicate basic information. What kind of animal did I see? Where was it?
How many were there? A few more
words and now there are stories that can be told to reveal our thoughts. Stars are the eyes of the many dead who gather
above to watch the progress of their children.
One day we each must join them.
Now is too soon. Bison Woman has
given child in the same time as do the herds that bring forward their
calves. She and the young one must be
protected even though she brought great turmoil to the group. Men with good feeling became angry with one
another. There were wounds. Bison Woman saw all and she made known her
liking. It mattered little. Man who mounts Bison Woman gives small
thought to her likes.
People that move with herds must live in skins for protection from
being cold and wet. The sun can also be
too much. Insects that live on animals
also pester the people that follow herds.
Animals that eat herd flesh find people agreeably filling, as well. People must drink from the water muddied by
the herd. People, once so very strong,
become weak for no known reason and soon must be given back to the earth. Little people, so new to the group, join the
stars at night before they can be of help.
Women must always bring new people but they, too, wear out all too
soon.
We speak more words with each other because they give us new
thought. Thought is magic. Thought give us fire. Thought give us tools. Thought makes difficult life more easy. Easy life gives happy feeling. We like words because words give better
thought. Now we hear new thought. River People do not follow herd. River People do not live in skins. River People live in wood. River People eat much plant. River People always stay where they always
are. Life seems easy for River People. We want easy River People life. River People must go now.
We are surprised. River People
have too much thought. River People
thought not easy. They do not see eyes
of dead overhead at night. They watch
signs in stars that tell them of what is to be.
Stars say time of flood. Stars
say time to put seeds into ground. Stars
say time to gather seeds from plant. River
People talk words of numbers. They have
many number words. Words are for
ears. They scratch marks. They make words for eyes. They talk great magic. They make magic with numbers. Numbers come and go. How do numbers get so big?
Too many numbers make bad feelings.
Too many words make for bad talk.
Kill animal is quick. It is happy
time. Seeds are not quick to make
plant. It is not happy time. There is no good tomorrow for River People. There is no happy mud.
Love,
Dad
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