The inaugural speech of Mr Sir Orange when assuming office as Minister of Art & Fisheries became a topic of national and international debate. Notably human beings objected to the notion that they had acquired bipedal locomotion either by inter-species breeding with penguins or by cultural adaptation and cohabitation with animals that naturally moved about on two legs. Humans disqualified the notion that “bipedal locomotion contributed to, or perhaps even accounted for, the well known physical, psychological and social instability of the homo sapiens” as ludicrous and void of scientific evidence.
Mr Sir Orange’s coining of the word artifishal to designate objects that were both fish and art was described at best as a gimmick. Readers were subtly reminded that the coining of new words was one of the characteristic traits of certain schizophrenics.
He agreed without hesitation when called by the beautiful Miss Miss Reporter who requested an interview. Time to set things right, he thought, seated at the veranda of the Orangery, with its fine view of the Artifishal Pond and adjacent orange orchard.
“Good of you to come,” he greeted Miss Misreporter, “great to have you here so soon after that splendid inaugural event last week.”
“Thank you,” she replied politely, vaguely remembering a large variety of fine drinks that lasted deep into the moonlit night.
“Your Excellency,” she started out, “your speech provoked considerable controversy. Notably human beings object to the idea that bipedal locomotion has been achieved by interbreeding with penguins.”
“Or possibly is a culturally acquired trait which in the course of time became part of the human genetic makeup.” added Mr Sir Orange.
“The problem is,” continued Mr Sir Orange, “not with the facts or their interpretation. The problem is human conceit. They believe that their upright locomotive position is evidence of human superiority in the Mammalia class. But in that class are animals that do things that are more spectacular than walking on two legs. What about the whales that live in the sea? Or the bats that can fly in darkness?”
“Point taken,” admitted Miss Miss Reporter, busily recording with her smart phone. “Now what about their brain and linguistic ability? Are these not the features that make them stand out amongst the population of the Kingdom of Animalia?”
“Starting with the human brain,” responded Mr Sir Orange, “we note that the volume of the brain of the average mature human is about 1,400 cc; that is almost 1½ liter or two bottles of wine.”
“Wine you said?” inquired Miss Misreporter.
“Hold on,” Mr Sir Orange said,” let us deal with the human brain first. It is a large brain indeed but the real issue is what the human does with the brain that supposedly controls his actions. Now look at the ant. The ant has a brain the size of a pin point. Now consider what the ant can do with such a tiny brain. How well organized is its society! The brain of the human being is 10,000’s times larger than that of an ant. Is the human society several 10,000 times better organized than the society of an ant? I think we can safely conclude that that is not the case. The human brain, therefore, large as it is, is not particularly effective and efficient. It, possibly, simply is too large for man to handle. The over-sized brain combined with the physical instability issuing from its bipedal locomotion generates an animal that is psychologically and socially unstable. And as far as linguistic ability is concerned: are we not talking? Verbal communication is not unique to the human being but widespread among mammals and others in general. You just need the right ears to hear it.”
“I see,” sighed Miss Misreporter looking admiringly at smart looking and clever talking Mr Sir Orange.
“Dear Miss Miss Reporter,” Mr Sir Orange said, "I think we have convincingly refuted the objections raised against our statement concerning the condition of the human being, the condition humain of our besotted two legged friends. And now," he asked the adorable lady seated across him at the table with the fine view over the Artifishal Pond, “do you remember which wine you liked best last week?”
Mr Sir Orange’s coining of the word artifishal to designate objects that were both fish and art was described at best as a gimmick. Readers were subtly reminded that the coining of new words was one of the characteristic traits of certain schizophrenics.
He agreed without hesitation when called by the beautiful Miss Miss Reporter who requested an interview. Time to set things right, he thought, seated at the veranda of the Orangery, with its fine view of the Artifishal Pond and adjacent orange orchard.
“Good of you to come,” he greeted Miss Misreporter, “great to have you here so soon after that splendid inaugural event last week.”
“Thank you,” she replied politely, vaguely remembering a large variety of fine drinks that lasted deep into the moonlit night.
“Your Excellency,” she started out, “your speech provoked considerable controversy. Notably human beings object to the idea that bipedal locomotion has been achieved by interbreeding with penguins.”
“Or possibly is a culturally acquired trait which in the course of time became part of the human genetic makeup.” added Mr Sir Orange.
“The problem is,” continued Mr Sir Orange, “not with the facts or their interpretation. The problem is human conceit. They believe that their upright locomotive position is evidence of human superiority in the Mammalia class. But in that class are animals that do things that are more spectacular than walking on two legs. What about the whales that live in the sea? Or the bats that can fly in darkness?”
“Point taken,” admitted Miss Miss Reporter, busily recording with her smart phone. “Now what about their brain and linguistic ability? Are these not the features that make them stand out amongst the population of the Kingdom of Animalia?”
“Starting with the human brain,” responded Mr Sir Orange, “we note that the volume of the brain of the average mature human is about 1,400 cc; that is almost 1½ liter or two bottles of wine.”
“Wine you said?” inquired Miss Misreporter.
“Hold on,” Mr Sir Orange said,” let us deal with the human brain first. It is a large brain indeed but the real issue is what the human does with the brain that supposedly controls his actions. Now look at the ant. The ant has a brain the size of a pin point. Now consider what the ant can do with such a tiny brain. How well organized is its society! The brain of the human being is 10,000’s times larger than that of an ant. Is the human society several 10,000 times better organized than the society of an ant? I think we can safely conclude that that is not the case. The human brain, therefore, large as it is, is not particularly effective and efficient. It, possibly, simply is too large for man to handle. The over-sized brain combined with the physical instability issuing from its bipedal locomotion generates an animal that is psychologically and socially unstable. And as far as linguistic ability is concerned: are we not talking? Verbal communication is not unique to the human being but widespread among mammals and others in general. You just need the right ears to hear it.”
“I see,” sighed Miss Misreporter looking admiringly at smart looking and clever talking Mr Sir Orange.
“Dear Miss Miss Reporter,” Mr Sir Orange said, "I think we have convincingly refuted the objections raised against our statement concerning the condition of the human being, the condition humain of our besotted two legged friends. And now," he asked the adorable lady seated across him at the table with the fine view over the Artifishal Pond, “do you remember which wine you liked best last week?”
