Species Monkey Quotes

Perfect! Now we're being chased by hoards of monkeys! Perhaps you would care to name their species as we're attacked, just so I can appreciate the special traits of said monkey as it kills me!" "At least when the monkeys are harassing you, you dont have any time to harass me!

That's the whole point of a talent show,’ says Dee, doing a spin onstage. ‘It's illogical, chaotic, stupid, and a whole hell of a lot of fun.’ Dee nods to Dum. ‘It's what sets up apart from monkeys. What other species put on talent shows?

Whilst Man, however well-behaved, At best is but a monkey shaved!

Because we’re human, and humans are mean, independent monkeys that reached their greatness by killing every other species of hominid that looked at us funny.

Mr. Charles Darwin, who looked a bit like God which is interesting, wrote a book called You're a Fucking Monkey, Mate. He played around with the title for a while: We're All Fucking Monkeys; You're a Fucking Monkey, Mate; Get Out of My Face, You Fucking Monkey. And he ended up with On The Origin of Species.

Vimes died. The sun dropped out of the sky, giant lizards took over the world, and the stars exploded and went out and all hope vanished and gurgled into the sinktrap of oblivion. And gas filled the firmament and combusted and behold! There was a new heaven - or possibly not. And Disc and Io and and possibly verily life crawled out of the sea - or possibly didn't because it had been made by the gods, and lizards turned to less scaly lizards - or possibly did not. And lizards turned into birds and bugs turned into butterflies and a species of apple turned into banana and a kind of monkey fell out of a tree and realised life was better when you didn't have to spend your time hanging onto something. And in only a few billion years evolved trousers and ornamental stripey hats. Lastly the game of Crocket. And there, magically reincarnated, was Vimes, a little dizzy, standing on the village green looking into the smiling countenance of an enthusiast.

They say that animals are incapable of feelings and reasoning. This is false. No living thing on earth is void of either. They also say that man is the most intelligent — and the most superior — species on earth. This is also false. It is very arrogant to assume that we are the most intelligent species when we keep repeating the same mistakes over and over again. It has been shown that both rats and monkeys learn from making errors, yet we have not. Our history proves this. All creatures on earth have the capacity to love and grieve the same way we do. No life on the planet is more deserving than another. Those who think so, are the true savages.

I mean to say, we all sprang from humble origins. Goodness gracious, who would have thought that a species of monkey would take over the kingdom of the world. … I cannot help but feel that the monkey was not a good choice. Surely one of the cat family would have been much more satisfactory. They have a much less emotional approach to life. ("The Shadmock")

You mean you want me to throw rocks at a bunch of monkeys in a tree in order to compete for food and prove that I, man, am the superior species? Chica,” he said, clicking his tongue, “I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this my whole life.

They were two human primates carrying another primate. One was the master of the earth, or at least believed himself to be, and the other was a nimble dweller in trees, a cousin of the master of the earth. Both species, the human and the monkey, were in the presence of another life form, which was older and more powerful than either of them, and was a dweller in blood.

Humility is a virtue of the heavenly, not arrogance. Are we the most superior beast on earth? No, not in strength and not in intelligence. It is very arrogant to assume that we are the most intelligent species when we keep repeating the same mistakes over and over again. Both rats and monkeys have been shown to learn from error, yet we have not. More people have died in the name of religion than any other cause on earth. Is massacring God’s creations really serving God – or the devil? And what father would want to see his children constantly divided and fighting? What God would allow a single human life to be sacrificed for monetary gain? Again, the Creator or the devil?

In clear-cutting, he said, you clear away the natural forest, or what the industrial forester calls "weed trees," and plant all one species of tree in neat straight functional rows like corn, sorghum, sugar beets or any other practical farm crop. You then dump on chemical fertilizers to replace the washed-away humus, inject the seedlings with growth-forcing hormones, surround your plot with deer repellants and raise a uniform crop of trees, all identical. When the trees reach a certain prespecified height (not maturity; that takes too long) you send in a fleet of tree-harvesting machines and cut the fuckers down. All of them. Then burn the slash, and harrow, seed, fertilize all over again, round and round and round again, faster and faster, tighter and tighter until, like the fabled Malaysian Concentric Bird which flies in ever-smaller circles, you disappear up your own asshole.

Man, naturally, should be a vegetarian because the whole body is made for vegetarian food. Even scientists concede to the fact that the whole structure of the human body shows that man should not be a nonvegetarian. Man comes from the monkeys and monkeys are vegetarians – absolute vegetarians. If Darwin is correct, then man should be a vegetarian. Now, there are ways to judge whether a certain species of animal is vegetarian or nonvegetarian: it depends on the length of the intestine. Nonvegetarian animals have a very small intestine. Tigers and lions have a very small intestine because meat is already a digested food. It does not need a long intestine to digest it. The work of digestion has been done by the animal and now you are eating the animal’s meat. It is already digested; a long intestine is not needed. Man has one of the longest intestines – that means man is a vegetarian. A long digestion is needed and there will be much excreta which has to be thrown out.

Perfect! Now we’re being chased by hoards of monkeys! Perhaps you would care to name their species as we’re attacked, just so I can appreciate the special traits of said monkey as it kills me!” He ran along beside me. “At least when the monkeys are harassing you, you don’t have time to harass me!” The monkeys were getting close. I almost tripped over one as it darted in front of my legs. Ren leapt over a fountain with his tiger power. Show-off. “Ren, you’re holding back. Just get out of here! Take the backpack and go.” He laughed acerbically as he ran ahead of me; then, he turned to look at me while jogging backward. “Ha! You wish you could get rid of me that easily!” He ran a bit farther ahead of me and switched to the tiger. Then he barreled back toward me and actually leapt over my running body into the throng of monkeys to slow them down. I shouted back at him while still running, “Hey! Careful where you jump, Mister! You almost took my head off!

When Charles Darwin published On the Origin of Species in 1859, he exposed the world to a momentous discovery . For the first time in history, human beings were seen not as creatures of divine origin, but instead, as a product of nature, an animal like every other on the planet. Imagine yourself back in that amazing year. The day before Darwin’s book was published, you wake up thinking yourself the image of God; the next morning you realize you have the face of a monkey. Not everybody immediately embraced this rude demotion from god to goat.

As I said earlier it is most surprising that the kingdom of then world should have come under the sway of a species of monkey, and there is reason to suppose that there were other claimants to the throne. ("The Shadmock")

There are over a million types of fish in the sea as there are flowers in all of the world's gardens. There are at least a million different types of minerals as there are species of birds or monkeys. The possible configurations of lifeforms that could be created from a single atom are infinite. There are at least a billion people on this earth, and no two faces look the same. It is very arrogant to assume that we have seen all of God's miracles.

So what does correlate with brain size? The answer, Dunbar argues, is group size. If you look at any species of primate-at every variety of monkey and ape-the larger their neocortex is, the larger the average size of the groups they live with.

The rather uncomfortable feeling most of us have when we're around snakes is evidence of how this ancient experience continues to influence us today. Throughout the long prehistory of our species and those that preceded it, snakes were a mortal threat. And so we learned our lesson. Others didn't, but that had a nasty habit of dying. So natural selection did its work and the rule--beware of snakes--was ultimately hardwired into every human brain. It's universal. Go anywhere on the planet, examine any culture. People are wary of snakes. Even if--as in the Arctic--there are no snakes. Our primate cousins shared our long experience and they feel the same way: Even monkeys raised in laboratories who have never seen a snake will back away at the sight of one.

Dee checks to make sure his mic is turned off. ‘It’s not about common sense.’ Dee surveys the crowd with some pride. Dum also checks to make sure his mic is off. ‘It’s not about logic or practicality or anything that makes a remote amount of sense.’ He sports a wide grin. ‘That’s the whole point of a talent show,’ says Dee, doing a spin onstage. ‘It’s illogical, chaotic, stupid, and a whole hell of a lot of fun.’ Dee nods to Dum. ‘It’s what sets us apart from monkeys. What other species puts on talent shows?

The ocean, for me, is what LSD was to Timothy Leary. He claimed the hallucinogen is to reality what a microscope is to biology, affording a perception of reality that was not before accessible. Shamans and seekers eat mushrooms, drink potions, lick toads, inhale smoke, and snort snuff to transport their minds to realms they cannot normally experience. (Humans are not alone in this endeavor; species from elephants to monkeys purposely eat fermented fruit to get drunk; dolphins were recently discovered sharing a certain toxic puffer fish, gently passing it from one cetacean snout to another, as people would pass a joint, after which the dolphins seem to enter a trancelike state.)

Being nearly four years old, she was certainly a child: and children are human (if one allows the term "human" a wide sense): but she had not altogether ceased to be a baby: and babies are of course not human--they are animals, and have a very ancient and ramified culture, as cats have, and fishes, and even snakes: the same in kind as these, but much more complicated and vivid, since babies are, after all, one of the most developed species of the lower vertebrates. In short, babies have minds which work in terms and categories of their own which cannot be translated into the terms and categories of the human mind. It is true that they look human--but not so human, to be quite fair, as many monkeys. Subconsciously, too, every one recognizes they are animals--why else do people always laugh when a baby does some action resembling the human, as they would at a praying mantis? If the baby was only a less-developed man, there would be nothing funny in it, surely.

I can tell you that these two statues are not monkeys native to India. This one’s a spider monkey. They come from South America. This one is a chimpanzee, which is technically an ape, not a monkey. They’re often classified as monkeys because of their size.” I gaped at him. “How do you know so much about monkeys?” He crossed him arms over his chest. “Ah, so am I to assume that talking about monkeys is an approved topic of conversation? Perhaps if I were a monkey instead of a tiger you might clue me in as to why you’re avoiding me.” “I’m not avoiding you. I just need some space. It has nothing to do with your species. It has to do with other things.” “What other things?” “Nothing.” “It’s something.” “It can’t be anything.” “What can’t be anything?” “Can we just get back to the monkeys?” I yelled. “Fine!” he hollered back. We stood there glaring at each other for a minute, both of us frustrated and angry. He went back to examining the various monkeys and ticking off a list of their traits. Before I could stop myself, I shot off a sarcastic, “I had no idea that I was walking with a monkey expert, but, then again, you have eaten them right? So I guess that would be the difference between say, pork and chicken, to someone like me.” Ren scowled at me. “I lived in zoos and circuses for centuries, remember? And I don’t…eat…monkeys!

The many meanings of 'evolution' are frequently exploited by Darwinists to distract their critics. Eugenie Scott recommends: 'Define evolution as an issue of the history of the planet: as the way we try to understand change through time. The present is different from the past. Evolution happened, there is no debate within science as to whether it happened, and so on... I have used this approach at the college level.' Of course, no college student—indeed, no grade-school dropout— doubts that 'the present is different from the past.' Once Scott gets them nodding in agreement, she gradually introduces them to 'The Big Idea' that all species—including monkeys and humans—are related through descent from a common ancestor... This tactic is called 'equivocation'—changing the meaning of a term in the middle of an argument.

One general theory for the origin of AIDS goes that, during the late nineteen-sixties, a new and lucrative business grew up in Africa, the export of primates to industrialized countries for use in medical research. Uganda was one of the biggest sources of these animals. As the monkey trade was established throughout central Africa, the native workers in the system, the monkey trappers and handlers, were exposed to large numbers of wild monkeys, some of which were carrying unusual viruses. These animals, in turn, were being jammed together in cages, exposed to one another, passing viruses back and forth. Furthermore, different species of monkeys were mixed together. It was a perfect setup for an outbreak of a virus that could jump species. It was also a natural laboratory for rapid virus evolution, and possibly it led to the creation of HIV. Did HIV crash into the human race as a result of the monkey trade?

The upsides of the high-reactive temperament have been documented in exciting research that scientists are only now beginning to pull together. One of the most interesting findings, also reported in Dobbs’s Atlantic article, comes from the world of rhesus monkeys, a species that shares about 95 percent of its DNA with humans and has elaborate social structures that resemble our own.

we have been conquered, but we will fight to the last breath because living with someone else’s hand on our necks is intolerable, has always been intolerable, will always be intolerable. Not because of Laconia, not because of the union, not because of any of the authorities through all of history that have made rules and then dared people to break them. Because we’re human, and humans are mean, independent monkeys that reached their greatness by killing every other species of hominid that looked at us funny. We will not be controlled for long. Not even by ourselves. Any other plan is a pipe dream.

To eat liver, knowing that you, too, have a liver, brushes up against the cannibalism taboo. The closer we are to a species, emotionally or phylogenetically, the more potent our horror at the prospect of tucking in, the more butchery feels like murder. Pets and primates, wrote Mead, come under the category “unthinkable to eat.” The same cultures that eat monkey meat have traditionally drawn the line at apes.

A study published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences found that restricting calories by 30 percent significantly increased life span in monkeys.27 The experimental diet, while still providing adequate nourishment, slowed monkeys’ metabolism and reduced their body temperatures, changes similar to those in the long-lived thin mice. Decreased levels of triglycerides and increased HDL (the good) cholesterol were also observed. Studies over the years, on many different species of animals, have confirmed that those animals that were fed less lived longest. In fact, allowing an animal to eat as much food as it desires can reduce its life span by as much as one-half.

some impudent young Parisian had made a malicious reference in his presence to the latest theories suggesting a link between primitive man and lower species. Dumas replied: “Yes, sir, I do indeed come from the monkey. But you, sir, are returning to one!” He

species from elephants to monkeys purposely eat fermented fruit to get drunk; dolphins were recently discovered sharing a certain toxic puffer fish, gently passing it from one cetacean snout to another, as people would pass a joint, after which the dolphins seem to enter a trancelike state.)

Monkeys" "You can buy cooler, more humdrum pets-- a monkey deprived of his mother in the cradle feels the want of her affection so keenly he either pines away or masters you by literally hanging on your neck-- no ounce of your patience or courage is misplaced; the worst is his air of boredom and neglect, manifested in tail-chewing and fur plucking. The whole species is vulnerable to killing colds, likes straw, hay or bits of a torn blanket, a floortray thinly covered with sawdust, they need trapezes, shelves, old rubber tires-- any string or beam will do to set them swinging-- these charming youngsters tend to sour with age

For some reason there is a tendency to assume that one wild animal is a suitable model for another related species, whereas similar evidence would not be acceptable in human or veterinary medicine. For example, Shulaw etal. (1986) developed a serologic test to detect antibodies to Mycobacterium aviumssp. paratuberculosisin white-tailed deer, but determined the validity of the test “in deer” by using samples from infected sika and fallow deer. It is doubtful that a test developed to detect disease in humans would be accepted for use in public health circles, if its validity had been established by using squirrel monkeys and baboons!

If you now ask me if there is any difference between the human sense of fairness and that of chimpanzees, I really don’t know anymore. There are probably a few differences left, but by and large both species actively seek to equalize outcomes. The great step up compared with the first-order fairness of monkeys, dogs, crows, parrots, and a few other species is that we hominids are better at predicting the future. Humans and apes realize that keeping everything for themselves will create bad feelings. So second-order fairness can be explained from a purely utilitarian perspective. We are fair not because we love each other or are so nice but because we need to keep cooperation flowing. It’s our way of retaining everyone on the team.

Humans are uniquely good throwers. No other species even comes close. Monkeys and apes can throw branches, rotten fruit, and excrement (I still remember an encounter with an irate troop of howler monkeys in Costa Rica . . .), but they do not use projectiles as lethal weapons in hunting or combat. Our closest relatives, chimpanzees, are quite pathetic at throwing.94 Imagine

We imagine we will colonize other planets, but we have barely probed this one. We have yet to find a lifeless place on Earth, and there are many places we have yet to check. The surface of Earth is covered in unstudied life. There are new species, unnamed species, living even in your own body. There is much here still. More than we now know, and more than we can yet imagine.

Pattern recognition is so basic that the brain's pattern detection modules and its reward circuitry became inextricably linked. Whenever we successfully detect a pattern-or think we detect a pattern-the neurotransmitters responsible for sensations of pleasure squirt through our brains. If a pattern has repeated often enough and successfully enough in the past, the neurotransmitter release occurs in response to the mere presence of suggestive cues, long before the expected outcome of that pattern actually occurs. Like the study participants who reported seeing regular sequences in random stimuli, we will use alomst any pretext to get our pattern recognition kicks. Pattern recognition is the most primitive form of analogical reasoning, part of the neural circuitry for metaphor. Monkeys, rodents, and birds recognize patterns, too. What distinguishes humans from other species, though, is that we have elevated pattern recognition to an art. "To understand," the philosopher Isaiah Berlin observed, "is to perceive patterns." Metaphor, however, is not the mere detection of patterns; it is the creation of patterns, too. When Robert Frost wrote, "A bank is a place where they lend you an umbrella in fair weather and ask for it back when it begins to rain" his brain created a pattern connecting umbrellas to banks, a pattern retraced every time someone else reads this sentence. Frost believed passionately that an understanding of metaphor was essential not just to survival in university literature courses but also to survival in daily life.

Of course, all animals have different things to learn while traversing the arc that takes them from sexually immature, vulnerable child to reproductively capable, developed adult. In our case, those include advanced language skills and critical thinking. But there’s one feature that defines adolescence in species from condors to capuchin monkeys to college freshmen. It’s a time when they learn by taking risks and sometimes making mistakes.

As fascinating and just plain weird as the deep-sea geothermal vent ecosystems are, they have a great deal less diversity than we find in ecosystems that receive direct sunlight. At deep-sea vents we’ve counted about 1,300 species so far. In the Amazon rain forest, we can find 40,000 species of insects, just insects, in a typical square kilometer. Couple that with trees, monkeys, spiders, and snakes, and the rain forest has thousandfold the diversity.

A group of giant insectoid creatures floated to the area near the stage. One of them spoke in a series of clicks that the language master knew instantly. "Play hard and fast hairless monkeys!" Greeg shouted, "We're Transmitted Infections from the inner-worlds and this is punk fucking rock!" Crash hit a crunching , distorted guitar note. the Slugs spit in happiness at the sound of the guitar. Greeg liked a species with a love for badass music. He was sure this would be a great show.

The total combined weight of all living humans currently on Earth is around three hundred and eighty-five million tons. That is the so-called biomass of our species. The biomass of our livestock—sheep, chickens, cows, and so on—is around eight hundred million tons. And the combined biomass of every other mammal and bird on Earth is less than one hundred million tons. All the whales and tigers and monkeys and deer and bears and, yes, even Canada geese—together, they weigh less than a third of what we weigh.

Jensen discovered (and many subsequent experiments confirmed) that many animals—including fish, birds, gerbils, rats, mice, monkeys, and chimpanzees—tend to prefer a longer, more indirect route to food than a shorter, more direct one.* That is, as long as fish, birds, gerbils, rats, mice, monkeys, and chimpanzees don’t have to work too hard, they frequently prefer to earn their food. In fact, among all the animals tested so far the only species that prefers the lazy route is—you guessed it—the commendably rational cat.

long middle finger resembling a twig that it could use for probing for grubs. There is a telling example of convergent evolution when an unrelated species (the Long-Fingered Possum from Papua New Guinea) devised a similar strategy to address the same problem. (Douglas was very intrigued by the implications of convergence. What need is there to posit a designer if the operation of random forces, constrained by the reality of the world, produces the same elegant solution, as if there were no choice in the matter?) We monkeys have

Imagine a single survivor, a lonely fugitive at large on mainland Mauritius at the end of the seventeenth century. Imagine this fugitive as a female. She would have been bulky and flightless and befuddled—but resourceful enough to have escaped and endured when the other birds didn’t. Or else she was lucky. Maybe she had spent all her years in the Bambous Mountains along the southeastern coast, where the various forms of human-brought menace were slow to penetrate. Or she might have lurked in a creek drainage of the Black River Gorges. Time and trouble had finally caught up with her. Imagine that her last hatchling had been snarfed by a [invasive] feral pig. That her last fertile egg had been eaten by a [invasive] monkey. That her mate was dead, clubbed by a hungry Dutch sailor, and that she had no hope of finding another. During the past halfdozen years, longer than a bird could remember, she had not even set eyes on a member of her own species. Raphus cucullatus had become rare unto death. But this one flesh-and-blood individual still lived. Imagine that she was thirty years old, or thirty-five, an ancient age for most sorts of bird but not impossible for a member of such a large-bodied species. She no longer ran, she waddled. Lately she was going blind. Her digestive system was balky. In the dark of an early morning in 1667, say, during a rainstorm, she took cover beneath a cold stone ledge at the base of one of the Black River cliffs. She drew her head down against her body, fluffed her feathers for warmth, squinted in patient misery. She waited. She didn't know it, nor did anyone else, but she was the only dodo on Earth. When the storm passed, she never opened her eyes. This is extinction.

Or consider a study of male marmoset monkeys, a monogamous species in which fathers are actively involved in parenting. Researchers measured T response to the ovulatory odors of unfamiliar females, and found that it depends on the male’s family status. Single males showed testosterone elevations (as well as penile ones) in response to the sexually enticing smell. But to “family” males (those pair-bonded with offspring), this same stimulus apparently had little effect—perhaps because it represented a distraction rather than an opportunity—and their T levels remained unresponsive.53 In

The astronomers looked up through telescopes and saw the sky in new detail. This draper, Leeuwenhoek, looked down and saw everything else. He saw that the world was mostly microscopic. All along, the biological story had seemed to be about humans, but Leeuwenhoek would show that we were enormous and oversized—the Big Gulps of life. Linnaeus would much later show that there were more big species than had been imagined. But it was Leeuwenhoek who showed that most life was many times smaller than us. History produces unlikely revolutionaries. Leeuwenhoek was to be, without doubt, a revolutionary

Even humanity's lack of concern for its rampant overpopulation problem now made a terrible kind of sense. What difference did it make if our planet was capable of supporting all seven billion of us in the long term when a far greater threat to our numbers was waiting in the wings? And despite the overwhelming odds, humanity had done what was necessary to ensure its own survival. It filled me with a strange new sense of pride in my own species. We weren't a bunch of primitive monkeys teetering on the brink of self-destruction after all—this appeared ti be an altogether different kind of destruction we were teetering on the brink of.

Several primate species have communication systems of considerable sophistication. Gelada baboons have 22 different kinds of call, and gorillas have been recorded using some 30 different gestures.34 One of the best studied animal communication systems is the repertoire of alarm calls uttered by the vervet monkeys of East Africa. Vervets lead a perilous existence, at constant risk from eagles, leopards and snakes, and they possess a distinctive warning call for each. When researchers record one of these calls and play it back to other vervets, the monkeys reliably scan the skies in response to the eagle call, look down at the ground at the snake call, and leap into bushes at the leopard call.

Language is a social energy, and our capacity for articulate speech is the key factor that makes us different from other species. We are not as fast as cheetahs – or even as horses. Nor are we as strong as bulls or as adaptable as bacteria. But our brains are equipped with the facility to produce and process speech, and we are capable of abstract thought. A bee may dance to show other bees the location of a source of food, a green monkey may deliver sophisticated vocal signals, and a sparrow may manage as many as thirteen different types of song, but an animal's system of communication has a limited repertoire; ours, on the other hand, is 'open', and its mechanisms permit a potentially infinite variety of utterances.

The distinctiveness that we have so assiduously ascribed to ourselves as humans is, in reality, an accident of history. Imagine, for instance, how much more distinct we could have claimed our species to be had all the great apes become extinct before we began pondering our position in the world of nature. If vervet monkeys were our closet relatives, humans would indeed appear to stand separate. Equally, if the species of hominid that links us to our common ancestor with the African apes had not become extinct, the gap between us and chimpanzees would be closed all the way. Gradations between human and ape would be present at every step, and our revered distinctiveness would vanish. It is simply a contingent fact of history that certain species did become extinct during the past five million years, leaving us to compare ourselves with the African apes as our closest living relatives. And it is a sobering fact of current history that the comparison between humans and apes may soon become virtually artificial, as each species of ape faces extinction in its natural populations. If this happens, it means we will lose the opportunity to learn about ourselves from our nearest living relatives, just at the time that we have indeed recognized them as our relatives. It also means that we will have frittered away our one remaining chance to allow our sibling species to live the way of life for which they, and we, co-evolved across the millennia.

The jungle bristled with life. There were sloths, pumas, snakes, crocodiles; there were basilisk lizards that could run across the surface of water without sinking. In just a few hectares there lived as many woody plant species as in the whole of Europe. The diversity of the forest was reflected in the rich variety of field biologists who came there to study it. Some climbed trees and observed ants. Some set out at dawn every day to follow the monkeys. Some tracked the lightning that struck trees during tropical storms. Some spent their days suspended from a crane measuring ozone concentrations in the forest canopy. Some warmed up the soil using electrical elements to see how bacteria might respond to global heating. Some studied the way beetles navigate using the stars. Bumblebees, orchids, butterflies—there seemed to be no aspect of life in the forest that someone wasn’t observing.

The final misconception is that evolution is “just a theory.” I will boldly assume that readers who have gotten this far believe in evolution. Opponents inevitably bring up that irritating canard that evolution is unproven, because (following an unuseful convention in the field) it is a “theory” (like, say, germ theory). Evidence for the reality of evolution includes: Numerous examples where changing selective pressures have changed gene frequencies in populations within generations (e.g., bacteria evolving antibiotic resistance). Moreover, there are also examples (mostly insects, given their short generation times) of a species in the process of splitting into two. Voluminous fossil evidence of intermediate forms in numerous taxonomic lineages. Molecular evidence. We share ~98 percent of our genes with the other apes, ~96 percent with monkeys, ~75 percent with dogs, ~20 percent with fruit flies. This indicates that our last common ancestor with other apes lived more recently than our last common ancestor with monkeys, and so on. Geographic evidence. To use Richard Dawkins’s suggestion for dealing with a fundamentalist insisting that all species emerged in their current forms from Noah’s ark—how come all thirty-seven species of lemurs that made landfall on Mt. Ararat in the Armenian highlands hiked over to Madagascar, none dying and leaving fossils in transit? Unintelligent design—oddities explained only by evolution. Why do whales and dolphins have vestigial leg bones? Because they descend from a four-legged terrestrial mammal. Why should we have arrector pili muscles in our skin that produce thoroughly useless gooseflesh? Because of our recent speciation from other apes whose arrector pili muscles were attached to hair, and whose hair stands up during emotional arousal.

When Dennis McKenna drank ayahuasca , he had a vision in which he became “a sentient water molecule, percolating randomly through the soil, lost amid the tangle of the enormous root fibers of the Banisteriopsis World Tree.” I could feel the coolness, the dank dampness of the soil surrounding me. I felt suspended in an enormous underground cistern, a single drop among billions of drops … as if squeezed by the implacable force of irresistible osmotic pressures, I was rapidly translocated into the roots of the Banisteriopsis tree …” He was “carried through the articulating veins toward some unknown destination”. McKenna found himself within the extraordinary cellular mechanisms that turn light into “the molecular stuff of life”. Pulled on a kind of conveyor belt to the place where photosynthesis occurs. His consciousness exploded as he was “smited by the bolt of energy emitted by the phytic acid transducers and my poor water-molecule soul was split asunder”. As this vision ended, he found himself “embedded in the matrix” of the plant’s biochemical makeup. Suddenly he was suspended above the Amazon rainforest, looking over its vast expanse: “The vista stretching to the curved horizon was blue and green and bluish green, the vegetation below, threaded with shining rivers, looked like green mold covering an overgrown petri plate.” McKenna felt: “anger and rage toward my own rapacious, destructive species, scarcely aware of its own devastating power, a species that cares little about the swath of destruction it leaves in its wake as it thoughtlessly decimates ecosystems and burns thousands of acres of rainforest.” He wept. Suddenly a voice spoke to him: “You monkeys only think you’re running things. You don’t think we would really allow this to happen, do you?

Thomas Wollaston, in the Annals and Magazine of Natural History, complained that Darwin did no seem to know what a species actually was. The British Quarterly, deliberately sitting up trouble, speculated that a time might come when a monkey could propose marriage to a genteel British lady. Perhaps cruelest of all was a cartoon in Punch magazine, depicting a gorilla with a sign on its neck. Deliberately evoking the anti-slavery tract of Darwin's Wedgwood forbears, the sign read:"Am I a Man and a Brother?

One of the strangest features of human anatomy, when people are compared with the other 200 monkey and ape species in the primate family, is the sclera, or the white of the eye. In all our primate cousins, the sclera is barely visible. In humans it stands out like a beacon, signaling to any observer the direction of a person’s gaze and hence what thoughts may be on their mind.

I deny that this happened. First, it is impossible for one animal to make love to another if the female does not have a vagina that matches the male’s genitals. It is not possible for a dog and a monkey or a wolf and a hyena to mate with each other. Even an antelope cannot mate with a deer, for they are of different species. Even if they did mate with each other, it is not possible for them to produce young. I do not think a bull had intercourse with a wooden cow in the first place, for all four-legged animals smell the genitals of the animal before mating with it and only then mount it. And the woman could not have endured a bull mounting her. A woman could also not carry a fetus with horns.

Dressed in jeans and black Keds, Rebecca wore a Giant Monkey Frog T-shirt. Under the image of a grotesque-looking Peruvian amphibian perched precariously on a tree branch, the shirt’s slogan read “Licking This Frog May Make You Crazy.” She had purchased the shirt twenty years ago when the Phyllomedusa bicolor species was endangered. Now it was extinct.

The problem of anxiety isn't that the organism responds to threats by near-instantly powering up. That's clearly a good thing, species-survival-wise. It's that sometimes the organism starts seeing threats too readily.

When Doyle and McCowan applied Zipf's law to dolphin communication, they discovered that, like human language, it had a slope of -1. A dolphin's signal was not a random collection of different sounds, but instead had structure and complexity. (Doyle and his colleagues also applied Zipf's law to the signals produced by squirrel monkeys, whose slope was not as steep as the one for humans and dolphins (-.6), suggesting they have a less complex form of vocalization. Moreover, the slope of baby dolphins' vocalizations looked exactly like that of babbling infants, suggesting that the dolphins were practicing the sounds of their species, much as humans do, before they began to structure them in ordered ways.

The entropy level indicates the complexity of a signal, or how much information it might hold, such as the frequency of elements within the signal and the ability to make a prediction about what will come next in the signal, based on what has come before. Human languages are approximately ninth-order entropy, which means that if you had a nine-word (or shorter) sequence from, say, English, you would have a chance of guessing what might come next. If the sequence is ten words or more, you'll have no chance of guessing the next word correctly. The simplest forms of communications have first-order entropy. Squirrel monkeys have second or third-order, and dolphins measure higher, around fourth-order. They may be even higher, but to establish that, we would need more data. Doyle plans to record a number of additional species, including various birds and humpback whales.

What made it particularly interesting was that it multiplied easily in various species, in monkeys, humans, guinea pigs. It was extremely lethal in these species, which meant that its original host was probably not monkeys, humans, or guinea pigs but some other animal or insect that it did not kill. A virus does not generally kill its natural host.

They looked at two future climate scenarios, best case and worst case. For each case, they extrapolated out to the years 2020, 2050, and 2080. Even under the best-case climate assumptions, they discovered that global warming would push leishmaniasis across the entire United States into southeastern Canada by 2080. Hundreds of millions of Americans could be exposed—and this is just by wood rats. Since many other species of mammals can host the leish parasite—including cats and dogs—we know the potential problem is far greater than what was described by this study.* A similar spread of the disease is expected in Europe and Asia.

Darwin found that if you looked closely enough, nature conveyed a very different message. How could, for instance, the Galápagos Islands serve as home to thirteen separate species of finches, each similar to the other, yet each peculiarly adapted with different-shaped beaks for their particular island habitats? Clearly these finches had migrated over time from the mainland and from one island to another, and then, once separated, had begun to diverge and to become distinct from one another. But how? And why? Why did the giant sloths, whose bones Darwin recovered on his voyage, go extinct, while other creatures thrived in the same environment at the same time? And how was it that some animals seemed poorly designed for their environments, in defiance of Paley’s perfect watchmaker—woodpeckers that lived on treeless terrain, land birds with webbed feet—yet they managed to adapt and survive through makeshift means that no divine designer would ever have intended? Why did pythons have vestigial legs, and why did the bones inside the wings of a bat parallel the bones in the human hand and arm? This was evidence not of a master design, Darwin realized, but of a slow and gradual change in existing forms, spread across the ages, inherited from remote—and shared—ancestors. The evidence he painstakingly assembled on his voyage, then presented, bit by bit, in his classic book, pointed to very slow, very gradual changes in living things over millions of years, to creatures suddenly dying out and disappearing when their forms no longer allowed them to survive in a changing climate or environment, and to new forms of life that emerged and thrived in their place.

Her answer was immediate: “Climate change.” As the United States becomes warmer, she said, the ranges of the sand fly and the wood rat are both creeping northward, the leish parasite tagging along. The sand fly genus known to spread this kind of leish has now been found in the United States five hundred miles northwest and two hundred miles northeast of its previously established range. A recent study modeled the possible expansion of leishmaniasis across the United States over the next sixty-five years. Since it takes both vector and host to spread the disease, the scientists wanted to know where the sand fly/wood rat combination would migrate together. They looked at two future climate scenarios, best case and worst case. For each case, they extrapolated out to the years 2020, 2050, and 2080. Even under the best-case climate assumptions, they discovered that global warming would push leishmaniasis across the entire United States into southeastern Canada by 2080. Hundreds of millions of Americans could be exposed—and this is just by wood rats. Since many other species of mammals can host the leish parasite—including cats and dogs—we know the potential problem is far greater than what was described by this study.* A similar spread of the disease is expected in Europe and Asia. It seems that leishmaniasis, a disease that has troubled the human race since time immemorial, has in the twenty-first century come into its own. Anthony Fauci, director of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases at the NIH, told our team bluntly that, by going into the jungle and getting leishmaniasis, “You got a really cold jolt of what it’s like for the bottom billion people on earth.” We were, he said, confronted in a very dramatic way with what many people have to live with their entire lives. If there’s a silver lining to our ordeal, he told us, “it’s that you’ll now be telling your story, calling attention to what is a very prevalent, very serious disease.

Dwarfish cats can evolve into big cats, but never can cats evolve into rats. Evolution takes place within a species, never one that creates a new species. If an ape can evolve into a man, then a goose can evolve into a swan. Nature says, origin of swan is swan, of monkey is monkey, of man is man!

Dave went to the largest hospital in Rome and demanded to see a tropical disease specialist there. At the beginning of the examination, when Dave opined that it was leish, the doctor snapped, “No it isn’t.” But by the end of the examination, the doctor agreed that he did indeed appear to have the disease. He suggested Dave return to the States for a more precise diagnosis, since leish is notoriously difficult to identify; it is not a single disease but a suite of diseases caused by some thirty different parasitic species carried by several dozen kinds of sand flies.

I was still trying to decide whether I should go to NIH or not when the DNA analysis of Dave’s parasites came back. It showed he was infected with a species of leish parasite known as Leishmania braziliensis. This was bad news for Dave and the rest of us, because L. braziliensis causes the third, mucosal variety of the disease, and is considered to be one of the most difficult of all to cure. Dr. Nash decided to begin Dave’s treatment immediately. He would use a drug called amphotericin B, administered by slow infusion.

Pretty soon, however, I noticed something familiar. Most books are also about the exceptional. The biggest history bestsellers are invariably about catastrophes and adversity, tyranny and oppression. About war, war, and, to spice things up a little, war. And if, for once, there is no war, then we’re in what historians call the interbellum: between wars. In science, too, the view that humanity is bad has reigned for decades. Look up books on human nature and you’ll find titles like Demonic Males, The Selfish Gene and The Murderer Next Door. Biologists long assumed the gloomiest theory of evolution, where even if an animal appeared to do something kind, it was framed as selfish. Familial affection? Nepotism! Monkey splits a banana? Exploited by a freeloader!31 As one American biologist mocked, ‘What passes for co-operation turns out to be a mixture of opportunism and exploitation. […] Scratch an “altruist” and watch a “hypocrite” bleed.’32 And in economics? Much the same. Economists defined our species as the homo economicus: always intent on personal gain, like selfish, calculating robots. Upon this notion of human nature, economists built a cathedral of theories and models that wound up informing reams of legislation. Yet no one had researched whether homo economicus actually existed. That is, not until economist Joseph Henrich and his team took it up in 2000. Visiting fifteen communities in twelve countries on five continents, they tested farmers, nomads, and hunters and gatherers, all in search of this hominid that has guided economic theory for decades. To no avail. Each and every time, the results showed people were simply too decent. Too kind.

I’ve made a lot of bad decisions in my life. Some of them have gotten good people hurt, even killed. Many of them have caused immense property damage, and one was responsible for the extinction of an entire species of South American monkey.

For us, then, life is a confidence trick we must run on ourselves, hoping we do not catch on to any monkey business that would leave us stripped of our defense mechanisms and standing stark naked before the silent, staring void. To end this self-deception, to free our species of the paradoxical imperative to be and not to be conscious, our backs breaking by degrees upon a wheel of lies, we must cease reproducing. Nothing less will do.

Not because of Laconia, not because of the union, not because of any of the authorities through all of history that have made rules and then dared people to break them. Because we’re human, and humans are mean, independent monkeys that reached their greatness by killing every other species of hominid that looked at us funny. We will not be controlled for long. Not even by ourselves. Any other plan is a pipe dream.

There are over a million types of fish in the sea as there are flowers in all of the world's gardens. There are at least a million different types of rocks/minerals as there are species of birds or monkeys. To believe we are the only "intelligent beings" on this earth and beyond is ignorance. The possible configurations of lifeforms that could be created from a single atom are infinite. There are at least a billion people on this earth, and no two faces look the same. It is very arrogant to assume that we have seen all of God's miracles.

both the gossip theory and the there-is-a-lion-near-the-river theory are valid. Yet the truly unique feature of our language is not its ability to transmit information about men and lions. Rather, it’s the ability to transmit information about things that do not exist at all. As far as we know, only Sapiens can talk about entire kinds of entities that they have never seen, touched or smelled. Legends, myths, gods and religions appeared for the first time with the Cognitive Revolution. Many animals and human species could previously say, ‘Careful! A lion!’ Thanks to the Cognitive Revolution, Homo sapiens acquired the ability to say, ‘The lion is the guardian spirit of our tribe.’ This ability to speak about fictions is the most unique feature of Sapiens language. It’s relatively easy to agree that only Homo sapiens can speak about things that don’t really exist, and believe six impossible things before breakfast. You could never convince a monkey to give you a banana by promising him limitless bananas after death in monkey heaven. But why is it important? After all, fiction can be dangerously misleading or distracting. People who go to the forest looking for fairies and unicorns would seem to have less chance of survival than people who go looking for mushrooms and deer. And if you spend hours praying to non-existing guardian spirits, aren’t you wasting precious time, time better spent foraging, fighting and fornicating? However, fiction has enabled us not merely to imagine things, but to do so collectively. We can weave common myths such as the biblical creation story, the Dreamtime myths of Aboriginal Australians, and the nationalist myths of modern states. Such myths give Sapiens the unprecedented ability to cooperate flexibly in large numbers.

When chimpanzees embark on a raid, their behavior resembles a monkey hunt. They’re out for blood—but this time it’s the blood of a member of their own species. Based on chimpanzees’ alert, enthusiastic behavior, these raids are exciting events for them.… During these raids on other communities the attackers do as they do while hunting monkeys, except that the target “prey” is a member of their own species.

it is not. No, I am not. No, we have been conquered, but we will fight to the last breath because living with someone else’s hand on our necks is intolerable, has always been intolerable, will always be intolerable. Not because of Laconia, not because of the union, not because of any of the authorities through all of history that have made rules and then dared people to break them. Because we’re human, and humans are mean, independent monkeys that reached their greatness by killing every other species of hominid that looked at us funny. We will not be controlled for long. Not even by ourselves. Any other plan is a pipe dream.

Six different kinds of forest all around us. Seventeen hundred flowering plants. More tree species than in all of Europe. Thirty kinds of salamander, for God’s sake. Sol 3, that little blue dot, had a lot going for it, when you could get away from the dominant species long enough to clear your head. Above us, a raven the size of an Oz winged monkey flew up into a white pine.

The advantages of high rank must be pretty enormous, otherwise evolution would never have installed such foolhardy ambitions. They are ubiquitous in the animal kingdom, from frogs and rats to chickens and elephants. High rank generally translates into food for females and mates for males. I say “generally,” because males also compete for food, and females for mates, even though the latter is mostly restricted to species, like ours, in which males help out with child rearing. Everything in evolution boils down to reproductive success, which means that the different orientations of males and females make perfect sense. A male can increase his progeny by mating with many females while keeping rivals away. For the female, such a strategy makes no sense: mating with multiple males generally does not do her any good. The female goes for quality rather than quantity. Most female animals do not live with their mates, hence all they need to do is pick the most vigorous and healthy sex partner. This way, their offspring will be blessed with good genes. But females of species in which the mates stay around are in a different situation, which makes them favor males who are gentle, protective, and good providers. Females further enhance reproduction by what they eat, especially if they are pregnant or lactating, when caloric intake increases fivefold. Since dominant females can claim the best food, they raise the healthiest offspring. In some species, like rhesus macaques, the hierarchy is so strict that a dominant female will simply stop a subordinate walking by with bulging cheek pouches. These pouches help the monkeys carry food to a safe spot. The dominant will hold the head of the subordinate and open her mouth, essentially picking her pocket. Her intrusion meets with no resistance because for the subordinate it’s either this or get bitten.

Some people love animals of a particular species so much that they seem unable to help themselves, even if they know the rules and risks. They simply must have them. The decision might be split-second, with people finding animals for sale and being overcome with the desire to possess them -- or even to 'save' them, according to Burgess. Imagine strolling through a market on a hot day and seeing a monkey in a little cage, looking sad and weak. 'To some extent maybe you want to rescue the animal because it looks heat stressed,' she says. 'A lot of people really genuinely love animals and want to be close to them,' Nuwer told me. 'The idea of being close to the wild and tapping into our natural selves is really compelling. It is trying to fulfill some vague longing that some of us have inside us.

in a book like Sapiens by Yuval Noah Harari, now says that the Portlandesque bumper-sticker view of evolution as a linear progression from monkey to Homo erectus to Homo sapiens to (naturally) progressive secular humanist is untrue. Many scientists now think that all sorts of hominin species were on the earth at the same time. (Fun fact: the average person of European ancestry is 2 percent Neanderthal.4) Harari makes the case that the

Humans do not usually catch infectious diseases from animals; pathogens tend to confine their nasty work to a single species or genus. (Leishmaniasis is a striking exception.) But microbes mutate all the time. Once in a while, an animal pathogen will change in such a way that it suddenly infects a person. When people in the Near East first domesticated cattle from a type of wild ox called an aurochs, a mutation in the cowpox virus allowed it to jump into humans—and smallpox was born. Rinderpest in cattle migrated to people and became measles. Tuberculosis probably originated in cattle, influenza in birds and pigs, whooping cough in pigs or dogs, and malaria in chickens and ducks. The same process goes on today: Ebola probably jumped to humans from bats, while HIV crashed into our species from monkeys and chimpanzees.

The attitude toward members of one's own species should of course not be equated with that toward other species. Lack of concern for other species is to be expected, given the virtual absence of attachment. Animals often seem to regard those who belong to another kind as merely ambulant objects. Sue Boinsky reports that when an angry capuchin male in the wild ran out of ammunition while hurling things at her, he simply turned around, grabbed an unsuspecting squirrel monkey who sat nearby, and threw it at her as if it were just another branch. The capuchin, who would never have acted in this way with a member of his own species, clearly could not care less about the shrieking little monkeys with whom he shared the forest. Cruelty to other animals is something that we humans may have begun worrying about; it is a concern without precedent in nature. Hunters judge the hunted by caloric rather than emotional value, and even if other species are not perceived as food, usually nothing is to be gained by investing care in them.

...monogamy is a myth that has been rammed down people’s throats for far too long. He has read a lot on the subject. It isn’t just a matter of excess hormones or vanity, but, as all the research indicates, a genetic configuration found in almost all animals. Paternity tests given to birds, monkeys and foxes revealed that simply because these species had developed a social relationship very similar to marriage did not necessarily mean that they had been faithful to each other. In 70 per cent of cases, their offspring turn out to have been fathered by males other than their partners. Igor remembered something written by David Barash, Professor of Psychology at University of Washington in Seattle, in which he said that the only species in nature that doesn’t commit adultery and in which there seems to be 100 per cent monogamy is a flatworm, Diplozoon paradoxum. The male and female worms meet as adolescents, and their bodies literally fuse together

We are neither mysterious nor incredible; we are just monkeys dancing to society’s tune. But it's nice that she still idealizes humanity. She won't do it in a few years, but I don't want to ruin her experience of discovering the nothingness of this species on her own. It is surprising, but the moment you realize that humans are nothing more than a more advanced tribe of monkeys is delightful. It is somewhat reassuring, like a weight floating away off your back, to realize that we as people are useless for the world we live in and that the only time when everything around us enjoys our presence is when we die. Our death is useful to the Earth, our existence is insignificant and somewhat destructive, although you cannot blame us - it is in our nature to destroy everything. We destroy ourselves; why would you expect us not to damage the rest of the things around us?

Humans are “high-fidelity” copiers: our young imitate adults to the letter, while other animals will make do with a slapdash approximation. This difference can make apes, monkeys, and even dogs look like the smarter species. Shown a procedure with an extra, unnecessary step—like touching a box with one’s forehead before prying it open and retrieving the treat inside—chimps and canines will skip the superfluous move to go right for the goods. Children, however, will faithfully imitate every step.

When people in the Near East first domesticated cattle from a type of wild ox called an aurochs, a mutation in the cowpox virus allowed it to jump into humans—and smallpox was born. Rinderpest in cattle migrated to people and became measles. Tuberculosis probably originated in cattle, influenza in birds and pigs, whooping cough in pigs or dogs, and malaria in chickens and ducks. The same process goes on today: Ebola probably jumped to humans from bats, while HIV crashed into our species from monkeys and chimpanzees.

On this list of overwater colonists are many of New Zealand’s most abundant and conspicuous plant taxa, ones I remember seeing there even though I was mostly watching birds. They include diverse shrubs and small trees in the genus Pittosporum; two lineages of podocarp conifers; the world’s largest buttercup species (the one Tara and I saw at Arthur’s Pass on the South Island), along with all the other New Zealand buttercups; the many species of Celmisia daisies; the ubiquitous, scaly-leaved Hebe shrubs; Sophora bean trees with showy yellow flowers; and two lineages of southern beeches (Nothofagus). Basically, anyplace in New Zealand with lots of native plants is home to many taxa on this list of long-distance colonists.

nonreproductive sex is “natural,” a defining characteristic.5 Does all this frivolous sex make our species sound “animalistic”? It shouldn’t. The animal world is full of species that have sex only during widely spaced intervals when the female is ovulating. Only two species can do it week in and week out for nonreproductive reasons: one human, the other very humanlike. Sex for pleasure with various partners is therefore more “human” than animal. Strictly reproductive, once-in-a-blue-moon sex is more “animal” than human. In other words, an excessively horny monkey is acting “human,” while a man or woman uninterested in sex more than once or twice a year would be, strictly speaking, “acting like an animal.

If you have two X chromosomes, as most women do, it’s incredibly unlikely that you’ll end up being red-green color-blind, whereas roughly 10 percent of men are. If red-green color vision was obviously selected for in diurnal primates, why was it located on the X chromosome? It’s possible this type of color vision was more advantageous for the primate Eve than for her consorts and sons. Perhaps being more efficient at spotting more nutritive foodstuffs (extra-sweet berries, extra-tender young leaves) made a real difference in pregnancy and breast-feeding. If Purgi utilized the same sex-specific parenting strategies as many living primates do, foraging for herself and her infant offspring, then the survival of the young depended far more on the female than the male. In other words, there was more pressure to see red and green on the newly diurnal Purgi than there was on her male counterparts. The second possibility is that Purgi foraged for food with a group, as some of today’s New World monkeys do. In that scenario, it’d be advantageous to have both trichromatics and dichromatics working together, grazing not only in daylight but in the dim light at dawn and dusk, when the dichromats would be better at finding the good stuff. Or both of these things were true: our Eve, as the female, had the most pressure on her to be able to see red and green, but in a highly social species that did some amount of food sharing, it would have been advantageous to have some dichromats, too.

Monotropa—“ghost pipes”—long ago gave up their ability to photosynthesize. With it, they abandoned leaves and their green color. But how? Photosynthesis is one of the most ancient of plant habits. In most cases, it is a nonnegotiable feature of planthood. Yet Monotropa have left it behind. Imagine discovering a species of monkey that doesn’t eat, and instead harbors photosynthetic bacteria in its fur, which it uses to make energy from sunlight. It’s a radical departure.

No other mammals on the planet have been observed regularly helping one another through birth. Or at least, none we know of. Two monkey species have been observed assisting in a birth, but each case seems incredibly rare. One was a black-and-white snub-nosed monkey in 2013, but it was hard to draw conclusions since it was a daytime birth and usually they occur at night. The second, involving a langur monkey, was recorded in 2014—and if it hadn’t been recorded, no one would have believed it. Chinese primatologists had observed this group of langurs for years and saw that the females generally gave birth alone. But not this time. On a rocky outcropping, an older female monkey hung around a younger mother who was clearly struggling in active labor. The newborn came out halfway. The older monkey quickly pulled the baby out of the mother’s vagina, held the kid for a minute, licked it, and then handed it to its mother. This may be the first clear evidence of active birth assistance in any mammal besides humans.

I remembered one of the many stories about him: some impudent young Parisian had made a malicious reference in his presence to the latest theories suggesting a link between primitive man and lower species. Dumas replied: “Yes, sir, I do indeed come from the monkey. But you, sir, are returning to one!

Animals develop such relationships quite readily, also between species. As pets, they do so with us, so that we can hold them upside down or stuff them under our sweater—scary moves that they won’t accept from strangers. Or, conversely, we stick an arm into the mouth of a large dog—a carnivore designed to take a chunk out of it. But animals also learn to trust one another. In an old-fashioned zoo, a monkey kept in the same enclosure as a hippopotamus acted as dental cleaner. After the hippo had eaten its fill of cucumbers and heads of salad, the little monkey would approach and tap the hippo’s mouth, which would open wide. It was obvious that they had done this before. Like a mechanic under the hood of a car, the monkey would lean in and systematically pull food remains from between the hippo’s teeth, consuming whatever he pulled out. The hippo seemed to enjoy the service, because he’d keep his mouth open as long as the monkey was busy.

Let’s start with mammals – a grouping which includes rats, bats, monkeys, manatees, lions, hippos, and of course humans too. I believe that all mammals are conscious. Of course, I don’t know this for sure, but I am pretty confident. This claim is not based on superficial similarity to humans, but on shared mechanisms. If you set aside raw brain size – which has more to do with body size than with anything else – mammalian brains are strikingly similar across species.

For billions and billions of years, while the planet Earth was spinning through space, the process of evolution took place. There were minerals, then plants, then animals, all formed from atoms created in the stars. The planet had been floating in space for 4.5 billion years before modern humans showed up. It is worth noting that before humans showed up, life on Earth for the other species stayed pretty much the same. Food, shelter, and survival were the name of the game. Things haven’t really changed that much for them. The monkeys lived in trees for tens of millions of years, just as they do now. The fish swam in the waters for hundreds of millions of years, just as they do now. Everything on Earth stayed pretty much the same until you humans showed up with your human mind. You discovered electricity and made the nighttime bright. You built giant skyscrapers and machinery that never existed before. You even dug into the earth, extracted minerals, and developed advanced materials like silicon chips. Then you built a rocket ship, got in, and flew to the moon. Compare that to what any other animals have done. They are living exactly the same as they did a thousand years ago, a hundred thousand years ago, a million years ago. You’re not. You used to live in caves; now you’re planning to live on Mars. What did that? Did God hide a rocket ship, and you found it somewhere? No, your mind did that. Your mind figured out everything was made of atoms, then you figured out how to split the atom. The human mind actually figured out how the universe was made, all the way down to the quantum level. Your mind put up the Hubble Space Telescope that can see back to the beginning of creation. The Hubble can pick up light that has been traveling through space for more than thirteen billion years. This allows us to see what was happening thirteen billion years ago. Can you even think about that? The fact is you can because you have a human mind.

No, it is not. No, I am not. No, we have been conquered, but we will fight to the last breath because living with someone else’s hand on our necks is intolerable, has always been intolerable, will always be intolerable. Not because of Laconia, not because of the union, not because of any of the authorities through all of history that have made rules and then dared people to break them. Because we’re human, and humans are mean, independent monkeys that reached their greatness by killing every other species of hominid that looked at us funny. We will not be controlled for long. Not even by ourselves. Any other plan is a pipe dream.

Of all the species on earth, we seem to be the only ones lacking an "enough" gene. In the wild, dogs, lions, cows, monkeys, apes, even mosquitoes and houseflies, eat until they are satisfied. They don't keep eating to obesity. Animals from squirrels to blue jays store food for winter-and some do store a little more than their needs. This might be seen as suboptimized evolution, as if they weren't evolved enough to remember where they'd hidden all their stores. However, the leftovers benefit other animals and move seeds to new growing sites. It's all part of a balanced ecosystem with zero waste.

The cognitive sophistication of a mammalian species, in fact, is nicely predicted by the extent of the convergence that occurs in its cortex-more is present in humans than in monkeys, and more in monkeys than in rats. When plasticity occurs simultaneously in two regions that fed into a convergence zone, plasticity is also likely to occur in the convergence zone since it will be the recipient of the high level of activity that occurs when plasticity is being established in the individual regions. Obviously, synchrony and modulation also influence convergence zones, further increasing their potential to integrate information across systems.

Does all this frivolous sex make our species sound “animalistic”? It shouldn’t. The animal world is full of species that have sex only during widely spaced intervals when the female is ovulating. Only two species can do it week in and week out for nonreproductive reasons: one human, the other very humanlike. Sex for pleasure with various partners is therefore more “human” than animal. Strictly reproductive, once-in-a-blue-moon sex is more “animal” than human. In other words, an excessively horny monkey is acting “human,” while a man or woman uninterested in sex more than once or twice a year would be, strictly speaking, “acting like an animal.

Naming species is not big science. It is like mapmaking or dictionary work and, on its own, of relatively little use. But it is the first step. It is the first thing children do as they lay hold of their surroundings. It is the simplest measure of the world. It is analogous to finding and naming the planets and the stars. Once named, it is another matter altogether to set the stars and planets, the moons and other bodies in motion relative to each other, but it is the beginning. Every culture known names species, then groups them, and then builds them into knowledge and stories. Naming, and the learning associated with it, is part of what makes us human.

Most days you do not look at the stars, and in the same vein it is all too easy to ignore the other life we pass by. The species on our bodies are small, and the crust of the Earth is so far away.