Suddenly too many things need to be done right now, so for a while Monday Evening will rely on other people’s work starting with:
Race-Memory, by G.K. Chesterton, 1925
(by a dazed Darwinian)
I remember, I remember,
Long before I was born,
The tree-tops where my racial self
Went dancing round at morn.
Green wavering archipelagos,
Great gusty bursts of blue,
In my race-memory I recall
(Or I am told I do).
In that green-turreted Monkeyville
(So I have often heard)
It seemed as if a Blue Baboon
Might soar like a Blue Bird.
Low crawling Fundamentalists
Glared up through the green mist,
I hung upon my tail in heaven
* * *
I am too fat to climb a tree,
There are no trees to climb;
Instead, the factory chimneys rise,
The past was bestial ignorance:
But I feel a little funky,
To think I’m further off from heaven
Than when I was a monkey.
Coming up on a hundred years later, we’ve dealt with those smoking factory chimneys anyway.