HISTORY OF THE EARLY UNMAN

Where did man come from? This question has occupied the human sidethought for thousands, perhaps even tens of thousands of lazy deeryear. It is a question responsible for many of the world’s myths & religions. Yet those old answers, they are merely one primitive dog attempt after another for a conquest—just some old pelican’s idea of showing off his explanatory prowess. A mating game and a mushroom. Cast it all away, dancer! Today we spread out a veil. Today we will sacrifice a limb-cut Mt. Everest on the altar of the smiling science. So grab a woodchuck & squeeze!

The sexual desires of Evolution have created many a strange dead end. Here on this cold aquatic globe, this glowing network of the sponge. Yes, through the mist of time we can see it all. We see his chronic self-pleasuring, his madcap apeman beastialities. We shake our little scientoid heads at him. Many a pointless seed has been spilled here, deep under the cloud of pre-recorded time. Race after race of bizarro-apemen, all created to satisfy his deviant needs. A real criminal he was, way back when. He needed the cold policemen-eye of a historian to keep him in check, to keep him morally straight. His Binocular so cryptic, his gravities bold…It’s a very shameful act he pulled on animalia back then, and yet it’s ok. It’s ok. Because we were one of those dead ends too. Just another sexual-imaginative accident of his, something dreamed into ether existence by him, misused and then forgotten. But we turned it all around. We made it past our first berry-picking, and we killed it at the first hunter-gatherer apocalypse. A little extra help from that Leyak of Language—little spoonful of her possession—that was all it took. A real trickster species we ended up being, eh? A goddamn porcupine of the Real! But this here essay is not about our story. My area of intellectual expertise lies elsewhere. I am so very sorry, I hope that is not what you had desired. No, instead I will tell you a story of our lovable apetwins. Behold the Unman!

A disclaimer—As with all prehistory histories, most of what follows is complete conjecture. But I assure you that I have studied all the bones. Each and every one. And through my hydromancy practice I have gained a secondary authentication. These dry words can be trusted, my friend, for I am no wet salamander. And I shall never flee at the approach of an uncomfortable truth. Yes, in the realm of Idea I am a sneering viking warrior, and irony is my excaliber. O foolish, foolish throats!

Our first Apetwin had an insect eye. An insect heart. Our first Apetwin had almost no concepts of his own. He was born without a cabalistic grocery cart, and his cavehome was completely bare. Except for his one friend, the red weasel, no one ever came to visit him. He tried taking walks around the plains, tried to do the old meet-and-greet, but all this caused was a raising of severe eyebrows. And those cruel, cruel Elephantkind! They would always frown at him, they would cover their offspring’s bulging red eyes whenever he passed. He seemed to cause severe allergic reactions. The termite kingdom even labelled him “a very dangerous individual”, and said he had no hamstrings. He’d only been alive for about a week, this little Unman, and yet the pinky aggregations of gossip had so quickly become established… He just couldn’t counter it all, he just couldn’t “put up”. Life on the savannah became disagreeable to him. His new word for life became “dead duck”. And so, on the second Tuesday of his life he crawled inside his dirty hidey hole and turned himself into a grey statue, never to dethaw. A sad ending for a sad meatball. But let’s not dwell! And hey—about 157,535 years later his grim statue-self was found by a traveling hippie death cult, and worshiped as their god. Yes, for a few sweet summers (Between ’70 and ’73) he got to play as King of all the Archons, and had the front row seat to endless sex magick shenanigans, often involving a tribe of albino gorilla. And not everybody can say that, eh?!

Our second Apetwin was a variant on the first. But this time around he was all horn, baby. All point & all angle. Yes, this time around nobody gave him any slippery shitstuff, because they were all far too afraid of him. They ditched the conspiratorial, and didn’t so much as pass a slither in his direction. In all their little booties, they quaked. At birth his apeface had been covered over with a strange metallic star. Yes, even while babyfresh, he shined. Vaguely organic was this facestar of his, and possibly sentient too. Somekindof parasitic somethingorother, a devious sucker of his fur. This star cursed like a non-aquatic sailor. (Not at all, in other words. This star was completely mute.) It also made it very difficult (impossible) for him to ever eat a tasty lunch. The most heroic action of this Ape’s life involved a fight with a deranged porcupine. This was on the third, maybe fourth day of his life, I think? Somekindof mating argument, if I am remembering correctly, something about access to a voluptuous porcupine female. He triumphed over the tricksy death quills, but died of starvation soon after. This is because he had no mouth with which to eat, as I mentioned previously. This is also why we of the english language call it STARvation. A tribute of sorts to this legendary apeboy hunk.

The third Apetwin (aka Charlie Ape), was a true ghostboy. He clouded himself regularly, because he was completely addicted to Phantom. Whenever his head spectrals reached a level low enough for a pupil return he sprayed again with the ReFog(™) . It was in this way that he avoided the nastiness of the sunlight, and the sad pretensions of the floral. His cosmic familiars? They often sprayed with ReFog(™) too. That sassy Sally Ape, that old old Momma Ape…A bunch of risky impatients they all were. Baby did not partake in any of this, however. Baby had a round plaster belly filled with flies. Baby was deafdumbblind. Baby knew not what he was, nor where he was. But as for that Charlie, Sally, & Momma, they all wanted a bigger, cloudier drift to exist inside themselves. They wanted something with a true extraterrestrial kick. And so (with a little misused Freudian analysis) they combined their three headselves, becoming one great winged headself. This newly-formed divine headself suctioned itself up, flying straight under moon’s surprised eyelid. It accidentally struck a hidden shadow vein there, and boom! All three apes were immediately transferred into a permanent apparitional state. A cautionary tale, folks.

Onward, then to the fourth Apetwin! This fellow started out small. No distinguishing personality features. No real fetishes or quirks to speak of. One thing that this fourth line of ape did enjoy was a good long swim. These apes loved the feeling of wet fur on warm grass. They loved to open their mouths underwater, to feel a cool aquatic massage along their weary gums. They would often smile very broadly after a dip, to show the tribe a set of sparking white river-cleaned teeth. And before any fuck, a quick dip was always expected. Just good form, you know? Hygienic. Unfortunately, in those prehistoric times there was just one large river, spiraling out from the core. The One had not yet diverged into the Many. This ancient river was 73 miles wide, and it teemed with sexually transmitted disease. Eventually this fourth ape line became consumed by the microscopic, their peaceful utopian society torn apart by a cornucopia of infection. One disease caused their ape genitalia to balloon with an effusion of strange red flesh bubbles, which when popped caused them very great pain. Another caused their blood veins to expand and spiral upwards, devouring their heads & disjoining their thoughts. And it all ended with a discharge which was musical. The less said about all that, the better.

Here I will end my account of the prehistoric Unmen. There are many more dead ends to cover, and I yet have forgotten them all. Loosey goosey, Loosey goosey. Depart my friends, and let not the mammalian tragedies of our past weary your present steps.