How the Mighty Have Fallen

What the hell happened to us?  As a species we used to be pretty formidable.  We used to get into small, leaky ships and cross oceans, explore new lands and exploit the crap out of them.  Alternatively we greeted the arrival of these world spanning marauders with a spear through their guts, feasted on their flesh and sacrificed whatever was left to dark and bloody gods.  And whichever side of that particular ledger your ancestors were on there was the ability to feel a certain sense of pride.

Once upon a time we abandoned such claims to civilisation as we pretended and went to the ends of the earth in order to find and kill large, tusked, mighty horned animals.  And we did that largely for shits and giggles.  Yes there was a time when for better or ill (and I'm prepared to concede it was mostly ill) humanity stepped up to the plate, ate what was on the plate, broke the plate and then beat up the chef until he brought us more food and on a new plate because this one's broken!

What was the heading of one of the stories in my newspaper today?  The Royal Victorian Eye and Ear Hospital is urging people to be careful around a particular type of pot plant.  Apparently the descendants of yesteryears proud explorers (or explorer eaters) cannot navigate their way around a balcony without tripping and impaling themselves on a plant.  It's a good thing we wiped out all of the dodos in seventeenth century.  If we encountered them today they'd probably wipe us out.

I am actually familiar with the plant in question and I will cheerfully acknowledge that if you get it in your eye or ear it will do you no end of unpleasantness.  Its tough, its spiky and it doesn't take crap.  But let's face it, its a plant.  It doesn't move very quickly, we should be able to avoid it if we try.  I used to wonder why hipsters wore beards.  Now I know, its because if we gave them razors they'd probably disembowel themselves by accident.

Do we really need warning labels on our potplants?  Have we truly sunk so low?  What sort of example is that setting to all of the other plants and animals in this world who, lets face it, are certainly just waiting for their opportunity to give back some of the crap we've been unleashing on them for generations.  I'm not even talking about tigers and grizzly bears here.  It's not going to be long before sheep are going to be looking at a shearer with a contemptuous grin and an attitude of "Yeah?  You and who's army?"  I give it a few years before cows are strapping us into our own milking machines and whales start building landships so they can hunt us with spears.

Trembling in fear we will clutch our (ethically sourced, non toxic but still not to be given to children under the age of fifty) fluffy toys to our chest and plead for mercy when Louie the Fly informs us that he's developed a spray that will keep us away from his barbecues.  I look upon my species and I despair.  And it doesn't help at all that this criticism is coming from someone who has proved to be incapable of changing a light bulb.