Most baboons live in hierarchical troops of 5 to 250 animals.
"Baboons can determine from vocal exchanges what the dominance relations between individuals are. When a confrontation
occurs between different families or where a lower-ranking baboon takes the offensive, baboons show more interest in the exchange
than exchanges between members of the same family or when a higher-ranking baboon takes the offensive. This is because confrontations
between different families or rank challenges can have a wider impact on the whole troop than an internal conflict in a family
or a baboon reinforcing its dominance.[1]"
On a visit to the Kruger National Park in South Africa in 1980, a band of these monkeys proceeded to attack our
vehicle as it drove down a public road. The experience was most threatening since the rabid behavior of these primates
attempted to intimidate any human they came across. Not a stellar example of the majesty of the wild kingdom.
Civilization is not a concept that has filtered down the food chain to savage beasts. Was this park the natural habit
of this species or were they mere predators looking for an easy prey?
Baboons have rough spots on their protruding hindquarters, called ischial callosities. These callouses are
nerveless, hairless pads of skin which are present to provide for the sitting comfort of the baboon. Their diet
is omnivorous. They are foragers and are active at irregular times throughout the day and night. They can raid human dwellings.
So cites Wikepedia.
Wonder if anyone sees the resemblance in the tactics and behavior of the transnational wind developers?
Reflect upon the mode of stealth attack used to infiltrate our communities and the barbaric and vicious intimidation used
to silent resident opposition. Just who is the predator? The faceless marauders gang together to cave up the quarry
and assign territories to the varied LLC's shell companies used to steal your resources, defecate upon your land, assault
your homes and attack your family.
Thirty years ago Afrikaners knew how to rid themselves of hostile baboons. They exported them to zoos
. . . Now that these monkeys have been let loose upon society, what lesson can be learned from this struggle for the
survival of the fittest?
Look to the Monkey's Paw, which is a classic horror story apparently written by W.W. Jacobs,, first appearing
in Harpers Monthly in 1902. The story begins with a quotation "Be careful what you wish for, you may receive it"
- unfortunately attributed by the author to Anonymous.
Wikepedia offers this summary account:
"The story opens with the second owner of the monkey's paw, Sergeant Major Morris - who came into possession
of it upon the death of its first owner - giving the talisman to Mr. White of Laburnum Villa. It is worth noting that a Laburnum
is a poisonous plant, perhaps intended by Jacobs as an omen of death. Heedless of the Sergeant's warnings about the cursed
nature of the paw, Mr. White, encouraged by his wife, carelessly asks for £200. His wish is granted, but in a horrific manner:
he receives a payment of £200 as the result of the death of his son Herbert, who is fatally crushed by industrial machines
at his workplace. Jacobs does not describe the grim accident in the story, preferring to report the incident through a company
representative, arguably increasing the incident's horrific qualities.
Following their son's funeral, the Whites settle into a dull, depressed existence. One night, Mrs. White,
seized by a sudden idea, tries to convince her husband to wish their son back to life. At first he refuses, but once again
allows himself to be swayed: he wishes his son back to life. Nothing happens, and the couple, crushed by the disappointment,
prepare to retire to bed. Later, they are shocked to hear a knocking at the door, whereupon the wife realizes that Herbert
had to journey from the cemetery where he was buried to their house, accounting for the delay. She rushes downstairs to open
the door, nearly hysterical with joy. Mr. White, meanwhile, has been seized by terror, recognizing the horrible creature that
must wait upon their doorstep (he, unlike his wife, has seen the body prior to its burial, and was able to identify it only
by the clothing). Desperately groping for the cursed paw, he makes a third wish, and the knocking at the door ceases. The
exact details of the third wish are not revealed, but, responding to his wife's cry of disappointment; he staggers downstairs
to join her, looking out at the empty street outside their home."
Those industrial machines crushed the son. Greed for a fantasy desire invited the monkey's paw to grant
their wish. Family lament longed to restore tranquility after the stark consequence from that wish. The family home
was never the same - much as our own neighborhood environment will never be made whole.
What the White's wished for brought them a living hell. Much like what is in store for towns that invite in industrial
wind developers, the monkey's paw brings with it a terrible outcome. Allowing baboons to enter our communities has already
developed a depressed existence for everyone who cares about a balance in the natural order. Taming the monkeys means
shipping them out of our neighborhoods. The freak show that the wind developers peddle has Enron written all over it.
The promise of local benefits at the price of living with industrial machines is too high for any sensible person to covet.
Accepting the allure of the siren's call brings the noise of turbine tyranny. It is analogous to making a
bargain with the devil.
When a baboon becomes uncontrollable and not even fit for display in a menagerie, society often demands that
the monkey meets the same fate as Herbert. Be careful what you wind project proponents wish for; you may be wishing upon your
own Monkey's Paw. Inviting baboons into your township makes you no better then bestial developers. You may be willing to seal
your own fate, but you have no right to condemn us to your nightmare.
SARTRE - March 23, 2007
