30 June 2008
08 June 2008
From the Field Notes of Dr. G. Howard Greene, Anthropologist:
April 12: I may have stumbled across the most significant discovery of my own life. I became marooned on this island about a week ago after a band of Maori pirates ransacked and then destroyed my ship. They left me to die with a small backpack and no food in a lifeboat. This pen and paper, a small Nalgene, some short pieces of webbing, a Bic lighter, and my iPod is all that I was left with to survive. I blacked out sometime overnight and once I regained consciousness the raft had washed ashore.
April 14: I have been surviving upon nuts and berries for the last two days, as I imagine local human being might. I sleep in a tree not far into the brush to avoid the insects that I fear more than death. Speaking of death, I have decided what music will usher me into eternal sleep: Aegis Byrun by Sigur Ros. I know I cannot go on much longer. I’ve had a good run, I have nothing else to live for, goodbye!
April 15: Still alive. I have begun running about the canopy in hopes I might accidentally fall and kill myself.
April 16: Saved! I have located the local human population. I have done my best to remain undetected by them. Initial observations indicate that they are completely unspoiled by modernity: natural dress, early human tool use, loose hierarchical societal structure. This hierarchy seems to be based upon who can build the best fire. The moral conflict is ripe. If I do not make contact I will surely not survive, the lack of protein in my diet is already slowing my mind. If I do show myself to them I may taint their harmonious lifestyle.
April 17: I don’t want to die!!! I am too young, if I make it back to the western world I could be the richest and most famous Anthropologist of all time. Please to let me die out here alone.
April 19: I stripped down naked and walked into a completely alien human community. I have stashed my backpack amongst the trees. I was greeted with inquisitive stares from the males and shrieks of horror from the females. I was ushered quickly into a grass hut and given a loin cloth after being stabbed with several needles. After gaining consciousness once more I was allowed to roam freely. I came across one woman who wore an enormous amount of body paint. She sat in a chair within some sort of alter. She faced a massive bonfire and she stared unbrokenly into it. Suddenly she barks an order and a nearby man scrambles to do her bidding. I walked into her gaze and try to meet her eye. She rolled her head on her neck and took a moment to focus. She shrieked and I looked down to notice that my loin cloth was no longer secured. I felt a familiar prick and blacked out.
I returned to my tree and gathered my safari clothing and backpack. I walked right up to the privileged woman and stared back into her eyes. I turned the Bic in my hand and flicked it with my thumb. She nearly fell out of her chair she was so excited. My guess is that she wasn’t having the best time leading these people and was glad to pass the duty along to me. My apparent ability to conjure fire from my hand stunned everyone and they fell to their knees. The power I feel is just as stunning to me, I feel like God must feel when he attends one of those mega-churches in the Southern U.S.
Ah ha, but I have another trick up my sleeve! I pulled the iPod out of my backpack and put the earbuds into the listening orifice of the nearest local. A wild look came over his eyes as the Mars Volta tore right through his brain. Soon a line formed to hear my new feat of magic. Man, these people are great, who would have thought that the exact same organ could have evolved in such different directions. I guess Darwin probably thought that.
April 20: Bad news, I ran out of butane today. No longer able to bring about flame at will, I have been dethroned. My replacement stole my iPod and I have been forced to make playlist selections for her. I’m scared and I want to go home. The battery bar is down to a short red line, and my next selection will be Sigur Ros.
April 14: I have been surviving upon nuts and berries for the last two days, as I imagine local human being might. I sleep in a tree not far into the brush to avoid the insects that I fear more than death. Speaking of death, I have decided what music will usher me into eternal sleep: Aegis Byrun by Sigur Ros. I know I cannot go on much longer. I’ve had a good run, I have nothing else to live for, goodbye!
April 15: Still alive. I have begun running about the canopy in hopes I might accidentally fall and kill myself.
April 16: Saved! I have located the local human population. I have done my best to remain undetected by them. Initial observations indicate that they are completely unspoiled by modernity: natural dress, early human tool use, loose hierarchical societal structure. This hierarchy seems to be based upon who can build the best fire. The moral conflict is ripe. If I do not make contact I will surely not survive, the lack of protein in my diet is already slowing my mind. If I do show myself to them I may taint their harmonious lifestyle.
April 17: I don’t want to die!!! I am too young, if I make it back to the western world I could be the richest and most famous Anthropologist of all time. Please to let me die out here alone.
April 19: I stripped down naked and walked into a completely alien human community. I have stashed my backpack amongst the trees. I was greeted with inquisitive stares from the males and shrieks of horror from the females. I was ushered quickly into a grass hut and given a loin cloth after being stabbed with several needles. After gaining consciousness once more I was allowed to roam freely. I came across one woman who wore an enormous amount of body paint. She sat in a chair within some sort of alter. She faced a massive bonfire and she stared unbrokenly into it. Suddenly she barks an order and a nearby man scrambles to do her bidding. I walked into her gaze and try to meet her eye. She rolled her head on her neck and took a moment to focus. She shrieked and I looked down to notice that my loin cloth was no longer secured. I felt a familiar prick and blacked out.
I returned to my tree and gathered my safari clothing and backpack. I walked right up to the privileged woman and stared back into her eyes. I turned the Bic in my hand and flicked it with my thumb. She nearly fell out of her chair she was so excited. My guess is that she wasn’t having the best time leading these people and was glad to pass the duty along to me. My apparent ability to conjure fire from my hand stunned everyone and they fell to their knees. The power I feel is just as stunning to me, I feel like God must feel when he attends one of those mega-churches in the Southern U.S.
Ah ha, but I have another trick up my sleeve! I pulled the iPod out of my backpack and put the earbuds into the listening orifice of the nearest local. A wild look came over his eyes as the Mars Volta tore right through his brain. Soon a line formed to hear my new feat of magic. Man, these people are great, who would have thought that the exact same organ could have evolved in such different directions. I guess Darwin probably thought that.
April 20: Bad news, I ran out of butane today. No longer able to bring about flame at will, I have been dethroned. My replacement stole my iPod and I have been forced to make playlist selections for her. I’m scared and I want to go home. The battery bar is down to a short red line, and my next selection will be Sigur Ros.
From the Los Angeles Times Editorial Section dated June 8, 2008:
After an extensive search for Anthropologist Dr. G Howard Greene the United States Navy has found the body of said scientist on an island thought to be completely uninhabited. Those people are have said to have murdered Dr. Greene in a jealous rage over his pure, white skin. Navy SEALs have taken their leader, a stunning and topless native, captive and interrogated her several times over using several different techniques. She has refused to talk. Ripe for the taking, several hotel and resort companies are in bidding for the island, including the Hilton corporation and that really rich guy who goes skydiving all the time and owns Virgin Media Corporation.
A crack team of Anthropologists are currently in the middle of Americanizing these people and robbing them of any native customs and culture. They will be baptized by the end of the month and ready to provide the labor base for the new resort island. Any whom oppose will be executed, jailed, and then put on trial. Mention this ad and receive 15% off your vacation at Jungle Fever Island Resort and Spa.
A crack team of Anthropologists are currently in the middle of Americanizing these people and robbing them of any native customs and culture. They will be baptized by the end of the month and ready to provide the labor base for the new resort island. Any whom oppose will be executed, jailed, and then put on trial. Mention this ad and receive 15% off your vacation at Jungle Fever Island Resort and Spa.
From the Obituary section of the Los Angeles Times dated June 8, 2008:
Dr. G Howard Greene was an exceptional man whose only goal in life was to pursue his dreams. Money and fame were not important to a person who would only love the opportunity to learn and thrive in such a beautiful world. He achieved his dream in his last days on Earth by finding and learning about a completely isolated people. We will love you and miss you always. Mention this ad and receive buy one get one free admission to the Greene Museum and Shrine located at the Jungle Fever Island Resort and Spa.
03 June 2008
This is Steve...
Who is he, I have no idea, but if you do please let me know, I want to know where he bought his moustache. He sure does look like he is having alot of fun at Vail though. Ah, Vail, its so big and yet every tourist seems to end up on the same part of the mountain anyway. How do they do it? Why are the back bowls at Vail so famous amongst people who have never skied? Is there some sort of funnel? It takes about half a day to get back there on purpose, so how does everyone end up at Two Elks for lunch by accident? For answers to these questions and more please send an e-mail to this address: kpetitt@vailresorts.com. Thats Kristen Pettit, International Communications Manager. She can also be reached by telephone at (970) 496 1493. I cannot be reached by telephone. Isn't the Internet great?
Oh, and this guy really likes his calzones. Maybe he will tip me in skis some day.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)