We Stupid Apes

We Stupid Apes

All creatures have means of survival. The rabbits hide in their burrows. The ants and the bees flourish with vast numbers. The lions have their ferocity, and their stealth.

And we apes have our wits.

The beasts of the plains, and the mountains, and the forests. They have their strengths. But when we plan, we overcome. They prowl at the edge of our settlements, their bellies demanding human meat. We light our campfires, and they know where to look for us. But together, we guard against them. We apes who know how to triumph.

We stupid apes who so often choose otherwise.

While we laud our achievements, we forget our natures. Our foolish, jealous whims. We covet what our neighbours have, and we fall to fighting. While we squabble, the other beasts watch. When our backs are turned, they strike. Divisions only serve to make us vulnerable. Our achievements turn to folly, and we are dragged to our demise.

Is this our history, or our future?

We build our cities, our lights, our satellites. Planet earth shines, a bright beacon in a perhaps crowded universe. What beasts lurk in the dark of space, watching our world? Which slavering jaws snap, just beyond the means of our sensors? And when we have sufficiently bloodied ourselves in war, which creatures will descend upon us to feed?

Will nations sit as one around the campfire, or continue to forward only greed and hatred? Each time we make war, we turn our backs to the wilderness. We stupid apes chose to light our beacons. Still we fail to see what's out there. But we have sent an invitation to the heavens.

And when our guards fight each other for long enough, perhaps something malevolent will answer.