MY GAZELLES ARE ALL IN ROW, (But they run off a lot)
Survival of the fittest. Define fittest. What is fittest. I know that I am the very last representative of a species and I would love to maintain the illusion that I am on top of the food chain but after Munich it does seem like hollow boasting. So what if I am clutching at straws and reading about our halcyon days back when we ruled the roost, I am not writing about that old mythical bird the halcyon because she could charm those prehistorical wind and waves into calm, whereas I obviously cant. In fact when I read the histories I can only point out the falsehoods of our belief that we were the dominant species at any time. In fact they were down right lies, dominant my arse.
Lets talk ants for a moment, they were everywhere and they outnumbered us by a zillion to one, or maybe the historic battle twixt Homo Sapiens and the common rat, guess what we lost that one despite all of the technology. Cockroaches have traditionally given us a run for our money, whilst seagulls have regularly taken the piss out of us. Oh yeah we extincted the sharks and most of their seabed cousins, but we did that completely blindly, IE; whoops. Although we were obviously superior to a cow, or as we managed to kill them off too our Gorilla relatives. However I can hand on heart proudly state that we were definitely better than the Dodo. Yes a large and docile flightless bird that made the fatal mistake of being tasty meat to my ancestors. So great Granddad O’Gradywould have been running amok with a baseball bat as he was fed up of the ships supply of salted meat. Granddad+Baseball bat + Dodo = Dinner.
Sadly the fittest I am not. Last night I could have been mistaken for the dominant Alpha male aboard the Solstice but not today. No I am on an equal footing with my Lemur buddies but I have yet again been outclassed by a fucking Squirrel. I have spent my whole life casually looking out for them, I have had epic battles with my escaping rodent buddies, I have found them on almost every level of the ship, I have even tried to improve there somewhat spacious accommodation but enough is enough. I woke up and there he was, eating my breakfast on the Nav Com. I can hear him lurking around the bridge somewhere and Jenny thinks its funny. It’s a good job she’s a robot or I would shoot her with the tranquilliser gun.
Actually I am outnumbered by the robots, I know they all talk about me behind my back but even they are evolving. So I sit trapped in a bubble unable to evolve in any real way or protect my own breakfast. Even the dogs seem to be able to outrun me, which begs the question of how the hell my ancestors overcame all the tooth and tail wildlife they were competing with. Fittest. Fit in my environment would seem to have an opportunistic streak eight parsecs long and a big bushy red tail. The son of bitches or whatever you call a female squirrel. I don’t mind them taking little holidays but just not on my bridge and not with my breakfast.