e, as a species, seem to be devolving. Progress, once the perpetual battle cry of the modern man, recently seems to have fallen silent, or at least on deaf ears. What in the world am I talking about?
Where it all began
About 4.5 billion years ago some hen-pecked Cro-Magnon man was the first to fall prey to the inexorable combination of The Little Missus and The Joneses. Our hapless pre-historic. bread-winning ancestor (assuming there was bread in those days) doubtless dragged his weary bones back to his mud hut one evening after a long day's hunting and gathering. Over a humble meal of rotten berries and cold pterodactyl innards, the following exchange ensued:
The Little Missus.: Pooky bear, do you love me?
Cro-Magnon man: Yes, dear.
The Little Missus.: I ran into Mrs. Jones today.
Cro-Magnon man: Yes, dear.
The Little Missus: She went on and on about how she just adored her new wall-to-wall mammoth skin carpeting.
Cro-Magnon man: Yes, dear.
The Little Missus: Can we get wall-to-wall mammoth skin carpeting?
Cro-Magnon man: Yes, dear.
The Little Missus: Deep pile?
Cro-Magnon man: Yes, I do seem to have stepped in it.
Continued...
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