Watch us evolve... It won't take that long...

We can see in every generation our roots. Just as we can see embryonic stages reticent of our special ancestors. Children and teens show us the way.

We were pack hunters not herd animals. There were alphas. Children played. Adolescents competed with one another. The strong mated as they chose, the weak had limited options. But, we were different. Our strength could be varied. We began devising different ways to hunt. The individual that could throw a rock the furthest may not have been the individual that could throw with the most accuracy. However, simple competitions could resolve rank.

And then we shifted. The pack became the tribe. A tribe generally has 2 leaders. Although a chief may make the ultimate decision, most seek the advice of a wise woman or shaman. Roles start being assigned. Those roles still have a hierarchy. The tribe generally prefers the best hunter to the best gatherer. However, as hunting moves from innate ability or talent to skill, it becomes an occupation. Individuals arise that take on tasks for the whole tribe. Weapon quality varies by the maker and the tribe benefits from well equipped hunters.

And so professions arose. Humans stopped moving. Farming and raising of livestock allow us to settle. The tribe becomes a village. A village may have one leader, but generally it does not. Elders are respected for their knowledge and so are cared for. Trades form. Metalworking, masonry, carpentry; these can only be sustained while food is plentiful. Commerce must begin. It becomes nearly impossible to designate an alpha. The blacksmith's forge allows the plow. The plow allows the harvest. The harvest allows the blacksmith to eat. Just as evolution always had, we filled niches. Now, those niches were among ourselves. A new ecosystem built on top of the existing one composed entirely of 1 species.

However, no resource is unlimited and the need to hunt has been replaced with the need to protect. It is easier to take than to grow and so another niche arises. Super predators arose: pillagers. The need for alphas returned. However, pillaging is not sustainable. The enemy will only be at the gates every once in a while. The professional soldier is not necessary at first. The blacksmith makes weapons, a basket weaver turns fletcher, a carpenter becomes a bowyer. The fighters are often praised and success is often rewarded just as it had been in the pack, but a town guard is not promoted to high ruler. The pillagers are not always defeated. From time to time the take control and demand tribute. However, a dictator can not be sustained by a village, that requires a town or city.

For better or worse, we continued to specialize.

It is my last name after all...

I would like to thank the people at Pandora for reuniting me with parts of my mind.

I often "aim" posts at those who have lost faith. Not faith in something beyond this physical plane, but it their fellow human beings. In a way, this is simply defense of my world view. In my little world, we our are only hope. My faith in humanity is what allows me to see another world, a better world.

So, occasionally I wonder why I maintain this belief. I question everything. It is my nature. Why then given the visions of humans at large would I choose to see "good" and light? The answer is simple in a way... music..

Art as a whole would be a more precise answer but avoiding the rhetoric of the definition of art seemed simpler. We as humans have learned to communicate beauty, love, anger, and pain. The greatest among our wordsmiths can evoke emotions regardless of distance, time, or listener. The poets touch us, move us. But over the millenia, we have combined this poetry with mixtures of percussion, vocalizations, vibrating strings, bending reeds, and changes in air pressure. The very air has become our tool. And when combined, the world changes.

There are many that have been moved by Whitman, but everyone knows the words of Lennon and McCartney. Whether or not they moved you... Whether or not you connected with them... The words are there. My very mention of the name has had an effect.

We have done this as a group. We have learned to communicate in moments decades of thoughts, feelings, and knowledge. From those that created the instruments, recording equipment, and broadcast systems, to the artists, to the listeners themselves.

The tones, rhythms, and timing give phrasing to the words. They add a depth the words alone can not. In some cases of spoken word, these tones are from the words themselves, but the very bending of the air around us has the power one would expect. It suffuses us. It penetrates. It evokes.

I would also put forward that it does not overpower at its best. Unlike its cousin the motion picture, it does not attempt to tell the whole story itself. It lets the listener add their own visuals, just as the still photo and work of paint and pen allow the viewer to add their own soundtrack. Yet, it conveys more of the artist intention than the work of print.

Not to downplay the power of any of these works. The emotion of fear has not been evoked by music in my own case, yet movies and live performances have had this effect in numerous cases. The works of Steinbeck have brought tears to my eyes on many occasions. I have felt the joy of protagonists and loathed antagonists and vice versa more times than I can count. The mere mention of the name Jane Austen causes me to become irrational.

But, where I do feel music has an advantage is its response time. A poet with the aid of musical accompaniment can have their effect in moments. Causing listeners to rise up, to come down, to remember the lost, to feel the need for loved ones, to wish for a different time, to wish for time to stand still, to move, to stay still, to dance, to laugh, to smile, to cry...

With this ability to generate beauty... With this power at our disposal... How can I not see the light in my fellow humans? They are all listeners.